Lu Yuanguang thought to herself that she now fully understood why the Emperor had insisted on visiting the Ministry of Revenue in person. After all, without such a direct demonstration, someone of her ordinary aptitude would have found it exceedingly difficult to grasp exactly what style and approach to adopt when compiling future comparative reports.
Her initial self-perception had been that of “a minister assisting the Emperor,” but now it was subtly shifting toward “a minister learning from the Emperor.”
Zhang Luo reminded her, “Your Majesty, it is almost the Hour of the Rooster (around 5-7 PM).”
Wen Yanran set down the documents and smiled. “You have both worked hard today.”
Lu Yuanguang hurriedly expressed that she did not deserve such praise, while He Tingyun, in addition to echoing the sentiment, jested, “I have delayed half an afternoon at the Ministry of Revenue. I beg Your Majesty to forgive my negligence in attending to official duties.”
Hearing this, Wen Yanran was once again reminded of He Tingyun’s nickname, “Suspended He,” and silently thanked the readers in the comment section in her heart – thanks to their enthusiastic spoilers, she had been able to effortlessly identify and recruit the talent she needed from the vast sea of bureaucracy.
When Wen Yanran returned to the Wester Yong Palace, Zhong Zhiwei had already arrived.
Having spent considerable time with her, Wen Yanran had grown quite familiar with the general and greeted her casually. “I’ve kept you waiting, Captain Zhong.”
Zhong Zhiwei turned around and, without a word, immediately performed a deep, formal bow.
Wen Yanran halted her steps, standing still with her hands clasped behind her back. She waited until Zhong Zhiwei had finished the bow before smiling and saying, “Rise, Captain Zhong. It is precisely because of your diligent and devoted service in the guards that you have earned this promotion to commander based on merit.”
Zhong Zhiwei understood perfectly well that the only reason she, someone with a half-borderfolk background, could leap to the position of Commander of Inner Guards – a role seen as a trusted confidant of the emperor – was entirely because Wen Yanran was willing to support her.
Initially, her goal in joining the Imperial Guards had been to restore her family’s prestige and live up to her training. But after meeting Wen Yanran, she gradually came to understand what it truly meant to be loyal to one’s sovereign and serve the country, and why a scholar would die for one who recognizes their worth.
As part of the Imperial Guards, who were close attendants to the Emperor, she sometimes had an even clearer sense of the Emperor’s character than court officials did. Zhong Zhiwei could feel that Wen Yanran genuinely wanted to appoint and trust her. She pressed her forehead to the ground once more, her voice resolute and unwavering. “From this day forward, I will spare no effort and will never betray Your Majesty’s trust and appointment.”
Wen Yanran gave a slight nod, signaling for Zhong Zhiwei to follow her into the hall.
She had summoned Zhong Zhiwei today primarily to discuss her own security arrangements, instructing her to select a few Imperial Guards of reliable character and exceptional martial skill to serve as close attendants. She also took the opportunity to ask Zhong Zhiwei for recommendations on dependable training methods.
Zhong Zhiwei thought for a moment and replied, “Your Majesty’s body is of utmost value, and you have only recently recovered from a serious illness. For now, the priority should be strengthening your bones and muscles.”
Instead of directly teaching the emperor fist or staff techniques, she first demonstrated how to loosen the joints, how to assume a horse stance, how to perform a lunge, and how to execute kicks, guiding Wen Yanran through each movement one by one.
The Emperor’s body was of immeasurable worth. Whenever Wen Yanran’s movements became too vigorous during her exercises, the attendants in the Wester Yong Palace would visibly pale with anxiety. Had they not been accustomed to the Emperor’s resolute and decisive temperament, some might have already stepped forward to admonish her. Even someone as steady as Chi Yi showed a flicker of unease.
When beads of sweat appeared on the Emperor’s forehead, the ever-perceptive Zhang Luo promptly approached to report that General Xiao was preparing to enter the palace.
Wen Yanran said, “It’s getting late. Captain Zhong, you may also stay and dine at the Western Yong Palace.”
Zhong Zhiwei had no particular objection – it was merely a meal, after all. Wherever the Emperor instructed her to eat, she would eat. She simply replied, “Thank you for your gracious offer, Your Majesty. You may continue to walk a few more steps inside the hall and not rest immediately, lest you experience abdominal discomfort.”
Wen Yanran smiled. “Very well. Thank you for the advice, Captain Zhong.” After a moment, she added, “Would you like to freshen up, Captain Zhong?”
Zhong Zhiwei replied, “I have not perspired, nor do I feel fatigued.”
Wen Yanran couldn’t help but laugh. “It seems I have judged others by myself.”
The Emperor, assisted by her female official, withdrew to the inner hall. There, she washed up briefly and changed into fresh clothes – in this era, heating water was nowhere near as convenient as in modern times, and having hot water readily available was clearly a privilege of the wealthy and noble.
Wen Yanran draped an outer robe over her shoulders and waved a hand to the attendants. “You may all withdraw for now. Only Ah-Yi shall remain.”
Chi Yi stepped forward quietly, carefully adjusting Wen Yanran’s robes and fastening the sash. With a soft smile, she suggested, “The evening has grown cold, Your Majesty. Shall you add a fur-lined coat?”
Wen Yanran replied, “Not just yet.”
The Emperor’s dressing room was a separate chamber specially designated for this purpose. The hollow layers within its four walls were heated by fires, storing warmth to maintain a comfortable temperature. A connecting passage linked it to the bedchamber. Wen Yanran, accompanied by Chi Yi, walked through the partitioned door into the bedchamber, opened a cabinet, and retrieved a plainly decorated box.
Inside this box were thirty-two gold pieces – personal savings she had accumulated during her time as the Ninth Princess.
According to the current exchange rate, one gold piece was equivalent to ten thousand copper coins.
Wen Yanran said, “It is commendable that you declined rewards in favor of your colleagues in the Imperial Household Department, showing such harmony and camaraderie. However, having no personal savings at all may inevitably leave you vulnerable to manipulation.”
Chi Yi had just been promoted to the Emperor’s side and recently received an official promotion – a time when caution and prudence were paramount. Moreover, the City Bureau was not a department with substantial authority, lacking channels for accumulating wealth. While the Emperor could certainly bestow further favors, to maintain the dignified appearance of her previous gesture of declining monetary rewards, it was necessary to wait some time before granting another reward.
Wen Yanran felt that since both Chi Yi and Zhang Luo came from humble backgrounds and were essentially drawn by her into the turbulent waters of the capital, it was only natural to provide them with extra care and support.
Although the amount of money in this box was not particularly large, its advantage lay in the fact that it was not recorded in the archives of the Imperial Household Department.
“After you leave, share some with Ah-Luo as well.”
Seeing that Chi Yi was about to decline out of courtesy, Wen Yanran smiled with her hands clasped behind her back. “It’s no trouble. I will soon have a profitable windfall coming in.”
Two palace attendants led the way in front of Xiao Xichi, holding lanterns, while six other palace servants followed behind her as they made their way to the Western Yong Palace. When Wen Yanran invited the new chieftain of the Qingyi tribe as a guest, she made sure to observe all the proper formalities on the surface.
Xiao Xichi reflected on everything she had seen and heard about the new Emperor in recent days. She felt that the Emperor was likely much like herself – someone who bided their time, waiting for the right moment. The difference was that the Emperor had already seized the opportunity to rise, while she herself still did not know when she would be able to return to Qingyi.
The palace attendant escorted Xiao Xichi into the Western Yong Palace. By the time she arrived, the tables and seating mats in the main hall had already been arranged. A person dressed in the uniform of the Imperial Guards was seated there – from her appearance, it was the newly appointed Commander of the Inner Guards.
Xiao Xichi knew that the person before her was Zhong Zhiwei, renowned as the “Emperor’s Sword,” and did not dare to underestimate her. After exchanging greetings, the two took their seats.
Wen Yanran did not keep them waiting long. Almost as soon as Xiao Xichi arrived, she appeared, draped in a thick fur cloak and arriving by carriage.
Following Wen Yanran’s usual habit, she preferred walking for distances that were not too far. However, the aftereffects of today’s horse stance practice had been particularly intense, forcing her to adjust her mode of transportation slightly.
Chi Yi carefully assisted the Emperor down from the carriage.
Wen Yanran walked slowly into the hall and raised a hand to excuse the two from formal greetings. “You are both around my age, and today is a private banquet. There is no need for restraint.”
Zhong Zhiwei, of course, repeatedly expressed that she dared not presume.
Xiao Xichi clasped her hands and said, “Your Majesty is most gracious.”
As she listened to the Emperor’s words, the corner of Xiao Xichi’s eye twitched involuntarily – even with the constraints of their respective roles as ruler and subject, she felt a strong urge to retort, “Who exactly is the same age as a thirteen-year-old child?” If not for the fact that Wen Yanran had prematurely bound her hair due to her accession to the throne, according to current customs, she would typically still be wearing her hair in twin pigtails when going out. By any measure, she fit the description of a typical “yellow-mouthed child” – a phrase used to refer to the very young.
Wen Yanran glanced at Xiao Xichi, then took her seat with a light smile.
According to the ceremonial rules of the Great Zhou Dynasty, the Emperor’s evening meal was supposed to consist of twenty-seven dishes. Excluding those sent in advance to high officials, nearly twenty dishes remained. As it was winter, there were fewer fruits and vegetables, with most dishes being chicken, duck, fish, lamb, and various soups. Wen Yanran ate with restraint – partly because the head physician of the Imperial Infirmary had advised that although the Emperor had recovered from her illness, she still needed to focus on gradual recuperation and avoid overindulgence, as it would hinder her recovery, and partly because…
The flavor of the imperial meals was actually just average.
It wasn’t that they were unpalatable, but they simply didn’t live up to her inner expectations of what delicious food should be.
In the Great Zhou Dynasty, cooking methods were primarily roasting, frying, and stewing. Stir-frying did exist but was not very common and could not be considered a mainstream culinary technique.
Wen Yanran picked up a piece of lamb leg with her chopsticks and, looking at the food in her bowl, couldn’t help but think: No wonder so many protagonists in transmigration novels become famous far and wide thanks to their exceptional cooking skills – it’s actually quite logical. If she were to encounter someone whose cooking suited her taste, she’d truly be tempted to bestow a noble title on them…
Having a meal with an unfamiliar superior wasn’t the most pleasant experience. The only slight comfort for Xiao Xichi was that the Emperor did not speak much during the meal, and the imperial chef’s skills were rather commendable.
After the meal came casual conversation. Wen Yanran smiled and said, “We have heard that General Xiao is well-versed in military strategy and excels in martial arts – a true talent for command.”
Xiao Xichi’s heart skipped a beat upon hearing this, and she quickly clasped her hands in deference. “Your Majesty praises me too highly. I have been idle all day, with nothing of substance to accomplish…”
One advantage of being the emperor was that she sometimes didn’t need to pay too much heed to her subordinates’ opinions. Without waiting for Xiao Xichi to finish, Wen Yanran gently clapped her hands. Immediately, a court attendant presented the sword that Xiao Xichi had removed upon entering the palace.
“I invited General Xiao here today to learn from your swordsmanship,” Wen Yanran said, leaning slightly against the desk with a faint smile. “If you win, I shall grant you a wager. But if you lose, you must also concede a wager to me.”
Xiao Xichi rose solemnly. “I dare not engage in combat before Your Majesty. But may I ask what the wager entails?”
People of this era placed great importance on honor and trust. If Xiao Xichi won the wager and used it as a pretext to ask the Emperor to allow her to return home, the court officials might grumble about the Emperor’s frivolity, but they would have no choice but to accept it. Even if they were utterly unwilling, their only recourse would be to secretly send assassins to intercept her on the road. Still, she would have a significant chance of successfully returning to Qingyi.
Thus, when Wen Yanran mentioned granting her a wager, even someone as composed as Xiao Xichi couldn’t help but feel tempted.
Wen Yanran gazed at the Qingyi chieftain before her and said with a smile, “As for what the wager is, General, you will learn in due time.”
The court attendant held up the sword with both hands and presented it to Xiao Xichi. Meanwhile, Zhong Zhiwei on the other side had already risen, her hand resting on her own sword. After a moment of hesitation, Xiao Xichi gripped the hilt and said, “In that case, I must beg Your Majesty’s pardon.”
As a borderfolk, daring to hold a weapon in the Emperor’s presence gave Zhong Zhiwei every excuse to summon the Imperial Guards and have Xiao Xichi killed on the spot. Yet, even if Wen Yanran had demanded Xiao Xichi be executed without any pretext – such as ordering her to be shot down by arrows upon entering the palace – the court officials would not have reacted with strong disapproval. At most, they would have criticized the Emperor afterward.
After all, in the eyes of people of this era, there existed an insurmountable gap between borderfolks and the Central Plains people. Although Zhong Zhiwei also had borderfolk ancestry, she and Xiao Xichi were not from the same tribe and shared no hometown affection. Moreover, aside from the Central Plains people looking down on borderfolks, the borderfolks themselves held prejudices against one another, resulting in intricate and complex internal relationships.
The court attendant led the two to the open area in front of the hall. The door behind them remained wide open, separated only by a transparent, wind-blocking dragon gauze curtain that demarcated the inside from the outside.
