Chapter Text
“Your Highness, we need to escape!”
“Hm?” Xie Lian’s gaze wandered across the bleak white landscape out the window. After hearing the same exhortation so many times, he didn’t bother to glance over at Feng Xin.
Like clockwork, Mu Qing’s snide voice cut in next. “Where could we possibly escape to without losing our heads?”
Xie Lian sighed lightly.
“That’s fucking bullshit!” Feng Xin snapped. “His Highness is one of the greatest martial artists in the world. How could anyone even dream of stopping him?”
“If you’re not intelligent enough to answer that question yourself, then stop making suggestions.”
“Enough,” Xie Lian said quietly. “No matter how skilled we are, we’d be hunted anywhere we went. And, furthermore . . . Xianle can’t afford for me to be so selfish.”
“Xianle doesn’t exist anymore,” Feng Xin said, but the harshness has faded from his tone.
Xie Lian shook his head. “I’m not being needlessly sentimental. Whatever our homeland is called now—no matter who governs it—the people who live there are still our people. If the king of Tonglu took his anger out on what’s left of Xianle, how many of the common people would die just for us to become fugitives? It’s pointless.”
They’d had this same argument upon their arrival in Tonglu nearly a month ago. Back then, Feng Xin had worn a similar expression of anguish as he’d said, “But if you don’t leave, you’ll die!”
“If that’s my fate, then so be it,” Xie Lian had said at the time.
“How can you say that?”
“Whether I’m to face death by a thousand cuts, dismemberment, or a merciful cup of poisoned wine, the result is all the same,” Xie Lian had said calmly. “Why, then, should I fear death?”
He’d been confident in those words until they’d received word that the king of Tonglu had no intention of ordering his immediate execution. Instead, Xie Lian would join the king’s harem at the lowest rank.
Feng Xin had been speechless from outrage when they received that decree. Xie Lian hadn’t said anything either, not because he was surprised—this outcome was within his expectations—but because Feng Xin wouldn’t like it if he admitted he’d rather just be killed. Whatever awaited him as a concubine in Tonglu, it surely wouldn’t be anything good.
Feng Xin and Mu Qing were the only two people from the diplomatic procession permitted to stay in Tonglu with him. These two attendants had served him ever since he was a child, and Xie Lian was selfishly glad they were both at his side. At least he could have a small piece of home with him in this foreign land, albeit for a short time. As soon as he got the opportunity, he’d find a way to send them out of the palace.
In Xianle, Xie Lian was the beloved crown prince. In Tonglu, he was a hostage prince, no better than a prisoner on death row. Though Hua Cheng didn’t want to kill him today, the king could change his mind on a whim tomorrow; rumor had it he’d killed people for far less. Since Xie Lian couldn’t guarantee his attendants’ safety, there was no point in letting them die here with him.
At this point, Xie Lian was resigned to his own fate. The last few sparks of resistance had started to die out when he saw his parents’ severed heads mounted on the city walls back home, and they’d been fully smothered during the journey to Tonglu, when he’d witnessed how nearby villages had been ravaged by war.
The king and queen of Xianle had been known for their wisdom and benevolence, but neither of those qualities helped them turn the tide against the kingdom of Wuyong’s onslaught.
The seven states of the Central Plains had each been ruled by independent kings up until Wuyong’s annexation of Xianle. Now only six states remained, and Xie Lian no longer had a kingdom or a family.
The king of Wuyong, Jun Wu, had chosen not to kill the former heir of Xianle. Instead, he’d offered Xie Lian to the king of Tonglu as a plaything.
Hua Cheng was renowned across the seven kingdoms as a bloodthirsty warrior and ruthless strategist. He’d slaughtered his way to the throne at only fifteen years old; in the twelve years since, he had transformed Tonglu into perhaps the strongest military power of all the states.
Even if Jun Wu had ambitions of conquering the entire Central Plains, Wuyong needed time to recover from the war against Xianle and to assimilate its new subjects. This diplomatic agreement between Jun Wu and Hua Cheng was merely a temporary truce, with the added bonus of humiliating the last survivor of Xianle’s royal family.
This performance of diplomacy would not suppress the festering hostility between Tonglu and Wuyong for long. Xie Lian knew he was a sheep being delivered into a tiger’s mouth.
Fortunately, even after innumerable days in Tonglu’s Cold Palace, Xie Lian had yet to even see Hua Cheng. He didn’t have to meet the king to be taken in as a concubine, nor had Hua Cheng sought him out since. As anxious as the uncertainty made Feng Xin, Xie Lian was relieved to be forgotten by the king. Their situation would only deteriorate further if he displeased Hua Cheng in some way—or, worse, if he somehow pleased him.
The servants assigned to the Cold Palace were well aware that Xie Lian had little chance of winning the king’s favor. When weeks passed without a visit or a summons to Hua Cheng’s bedchamber, they were diligent in ensuring the enemy prince lived in misery.
Amid the bitterly cold winter, Xie Lian had received neither charcoal nor so much as a quilt. If he and his attendants were not skilled martial artists, they might have already frozen to death.
Xie Lian wanted to sigh again, thinking about the long days ahead of them, but he was jarred back to the present by the arrival of a palace maid.
Mu Qing retrieved their daily ration of food from her, but once he set the box on the table, they all stared blankly at it. It wouldn’t take a refined palate or a keen sense of smell to feel sick after a mere whiff of whatever was inside. The food had clearly gone rancid; it might not even be fit for dogs now. Such an occurrence was not rare—on good days the food was unappetizing but edible, but they often had to resign themselves to this.
Perhaps Xie Lian’s senses had been dulled along with his spirit. These days, he would just eat the rotten food anyway, ignoring Feng Xin’s protests that he would get sick. He had, on several occasions, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Food was food, in the end. He probably wouldn’t die from eating it, but he would certainly die if he didn’t.
Feng Xin slammed a hand on the table. “Those fuckers think they can bully us, just because that rabid dog they call a king—”
At the sudden clamor outside, they all turned to look out the window. Xie Lian’s chest seized with alarm when he saw the royal sedan. The king never passed by the isolated Cold Palace for any reason; no one did. He wouldn’t be here now unless—
“Is he coming here?” Mu Qing demanded.
“No, he’s fucking not!” Feng Xin’s hand automatically reached for his bow before he remembered that it was no longer with him; they hadn’t been permitted to bring any weapons with them into Tonglu. He swore loudly and sprang to his feet, instinctively standing in front of Xie Lian, though he wasn’t quite able to block Xie Lian’s view.
Xie Lian’s brows drew together as he watched the eunuchs who were carrying the sedan come to an abrupt halt. He tried to calm his breathing and steady his inner force. All of a sudden, though, the sedan turned around and carried that haunting red figure back the way he came.
Xie Lian blinked, confused.
Could the king be . . . lost?
Hua Cheng cursed furiously in his head the entire way back to the royal study.
If it weren’t for that godforsaken bird, he would’ve gotten to see the person he wanted to see.
Ever since he had arrived in this world earlier today, that cursed thing had been yapping at him nonstop. He’d been tolerant of it at first, but it had quickly squandered his shallow reserve of good will.
[Welcome to the system! We hope you enjoy our service and fulfill your wish to transform “Blessed by the Heavens” into a literary masterpiece.]
Who the fuck wished to do anything with Blessed by the Heavens other than burn it?
Hua Cheng had read that vile male power fantasy of a stallion novel with enough hatred and disgust in his heart to flatten nations.
There was only one reason he had persisted in reading the entire book: his interest had been piqued by a side character early on, and he skim-read another thousand pages waiting for that character to return.
Naturally, finding out he had transmigrated into the story also had only that one upside. At least Hua Cheng now had the power to change that character’s fate.
If only the bird-brained system would cooperate.
It wasn’t even dignified enough to be a disembodied voice in his mind. This transmigration system took the form of a literal bird that followed him around, twittering things at him that no one else could hear.
The first time it had told him something he didn’t like, he had simply strangled the damn thing and had its feathered corpse delivered to the kitchens to be roasted. Unfortunately, whatever magic had brought Hua Cheng into the world of Blessed by the Heavens also allowed the system to take the form of any bird it wanted. Despite knowing that killing it was useless, Hua Cheng had vented his anger a few more times.
And yet it still dared to thwart him!
[Warning! As a beginner, you do not have access to the “OOC” upgrade. Please complete a beginner-level quest to unlock this feature. Before unlocking, any act in violation of the original Hua Cheng character settings will result in a deduction of the player’s character points.]
“I don’t care about your stupid points system,” Hua Cheng had told the bird. “Scram!”
[Warning! A deficit of character points will result in the player being deported back to your original world.]
This had given Hua Cheng pause. He was dead in his original world; he didn’t remember how it happened, but he knew that his life there had ended. Wasn’t this system warning just a blatant death threat?
“How do I unlock the OOC feature?” he’d asked through gritted teeth.
[The player must complete a beginner-level quest.]
“What fucking quest?”
[The player must find a beginner-level quest to complete.]
At that point, he’d found a handy bow and used the bird as target practice.
How was he supposed to find a quest? Did that mean he’d have to follow the plot of the novel?
The original Hua Cheng was worthless scum. He didn’t seem to do anything with his time other than stab people with his scimitar or bed beautiful men and women. By the end of the book, he’d practically had enough harem members to see a different one each night of the year.
Of course, the mindless denizens in the comment section praised this sleazy tyrant’s prowess in seducing women and men alike. Hua Cheng’s fingers on the keyboard almost hadn’t been able to keep pace with his disdain as he cursed eighteen generations of these readers’ families.
The readers were bad enough, but the author clearly had some disease of the mind that led him to write such a repugnantly self-indulgent story. And he’d dared to give his protagonist the same name as Hua Cheng! How could Hua Cheng not be filled with rage when he read about the senseless depravity of his namesake? If Hua Cheng ever met this Jiangjun Zhe Jian, he’d unsheathe his new scimitar without a second thought.
He of course had no desire to follow the original storyline of this book, but he would have to do something to unlock the ability to act “out of character” for one specific purpose.
He wanted to meet Xie Lian.
The only point of light in over a thousand pages of garbage was the kind, gentle, resilient crown prince of the vanquished Xianle kingdom. Though he was beautiful and virtuous, the original Hua Cheng had paid him no mind, not even deigning to meet him until the annual spring hunt, which even the lowliest members of the harem were allowed to attend. With the thick blanket of snow covering the palace grounds now, spring seemed eons away; Hua Cheng couldn’t simply wait for this subplot to develop naturally—nor could he allow their relationship to unfold as it had in the book.
The king of Tonglu was not a compassionate man, but he was easily moved by beauty. Given his sadistic tendencies, however, what he liked most was seeing delicate beauties in distress. He could swoop in and play the hero for as long as his interest lasted, at which point he would discard them without a care. Once the author of Blessed by the Heavens lost interest in a member of the harem, he would just toss them off-page, never to be seen again while the king focused his attentions on finding new recruits.
Xie Lian was clearly not of great interest to the author, so he showed up only a few times to suffer grievances and stoke the king’s sadistic urges before fading into the background. Even with so little presence in the novel, this unyielding hostage prince had captured the heart of one reader: Hua Cheng. While other commenters dismissed this character as boring and tragic, Hua Cheng would scan each page looking for Xie Lian’s name. He’d been rooting for Xie Lian to stab the king right in his protagonist halo and escape. He deserved more than a brief moment of royal favor, but the original Hua Cheng was unable to recognize Mount Tai right in front of him.
To be forcibly placed in the body of such useless scum, the transmigrated Hua Cheng was truly unhappy.
When he woke up in this body, he’d tried to head straight to the Cold Palace, but the system would not stop squawking at him.
[Warning! Out of character! The original Hua Cheng would not visit the Cold Palace for no reason.]
Hua Cheng did not intend to die before he actually met the man of his dreams, so he’d been forced to find a new approach.
No matter what reasons he’d invented for going to meet Xie Lian, that stupid bird had kept insisting it was out of character. Finally, he had resolved to just pass by the Cold Palace and take a look, as a means of surveying his territory.
[Warning!—]
“Can’t I go wherever I please in my own palace?” Hua Cheng said imperiously.
The bird actually shut up for once, perhaps unable to find an argument against that. Arbitrarily forcing the eunuchs to carry his sedan around in the cold while he neglected statecraft probably did seem fairly in character for the original Hua Cheng.
Despite this venture, however, Hua Cheng had failed to actually catch a glimpse of Xie Lian through the windows of the Cold Palace. Moreover, he’d become incensed over the dilapidated state of Xie Lian’s accommodations. How could such a person live in squalor like that?
As he sat resentfully in the sedan, mulling over his next move, he glared down at his head eunuch, whose name he hadn’t and wouldn’t bother to learn. “Fix that place up,” he snapped.
The eunuch stared at him, dumbfounded. “Your Majesty?”
[Warni—!]
“The Cold Palace. The sight of it harms m—our eyes.” Well, eye. He was still getting used to this body only having one eye that worked, since the original owner had gouged it out in order to dispel the rumors that he was cursed. “How can our royal prestige be maintained when parts of our own palace are in such disrepair? At least do something about that hideous exterior.”
What Hua Cheng truly wanted to do was move Xie Lian to the palace meant for the queen—at this point in the story, the king had not yet selected one, though later he would marry several queens and prince consorts while the court ministers cowered in horror, unable to stop him.
Barring that plan, Hua Cheng at least wanted to renovate the Cold Palace into a place of warmth and luxury. Yet neither of those courses of action seemed possible with Hua Cheng’s current limitations, so he’d have to work harder to find that “quest” the bird had promised.
The eunuch hastily agreed to consult the Ministry of Works about the renovations. Once he had ensured Hua Cheng was safely delivered back to his study, he got to work assigning various tasks to his underlings.
Hua Cheng took the opportunity to write out what he remembered of the plot in Blessed by the Heavens. Perhaps he’d find a clue on what he was supposed to be doing now.
The head eunuch looked as though he would faint any minute upon seeing his writing. Hua Cheng had never been particularly adept at calligraphy, nor did he know many traditional characters. The simplified script, combined with his penmanship and unfamiliarity with a brush, probably made the eunuch think he was writing in some demonic language. Hua Cheng didn’t care; it was actually quite useful that no one could read his thoughts.
This activity proved difficult, though, largely because Hua Cheng could not remember all or even most of the book’s plot. Who was so idle as to commit to memory a bunch of dog-blooded nonsense? All he could do was write down some vague ideas. Assassination attempt, harem drama, assassination attempt, scheming ministers, more harem drama, assassination attempt, power struggle with the queen dowager, yet more harem drama, assassination attempt . . . and so on.
It was no wonder so many people wanted to kill the original owner of this body. Hua Cheng wanted to kill him too. Sadly, this body now belonged to him.
He was still stewing over all of this when the eunuch announced it was time for the king’s dinner. Hua Cheng cocked his head as he watched the servants setting up his evening meal, then glanced down at his notes as a new thought crept into his mind.
When he finally sat down at the prepared table, he picked up his silver chopsticks and paused over one of the exquisitely prepared dishes.
“Who tested this food for poison?”
A trembling eunuch came forward and knelt. “Your Majesty, this humble—”
“Our dragon body is very precious,” Hua Cheng said. “Surely you don’t think one food taster is sufficient.”
The head eunuch subtly shoved a different eunuch forward. The young man immediately knelt. “Your Majesty, this humble servant would be honored—”
“Not you.” Hua Cheng set down his chopsticks. “Choose someone from the harem.”
The head eunuch looked rather speechless. “Your Majesty? From—the harem?”
“Naturally. In the entire harem, there must be someone who won’t be missed. They should be grateful for the opportunity to serve us, should they not?”
The original Hua Cheng might have been ruthless, but he usually made a slightly better show of magnanimity toward his concubines. The old eunuch looked taken aback, though apparently not enough to trigger a system warning. Hua Cheng stared fiercely at him, willing the old man to read his mind, but he hurried away without accepting his king’s telepathic communications.
Hua Cheng sighed and leaned back in his chair. He needed to develop some tacit understanding with his staff, or all his plans would go to waste.
He waited impatiently for at least three incense sticks to burn before the eunuch returned with a young woman in tow.
She kept her eyes lowered, not daring to look at him as she knelt down and greeted him. “This concubine is willing to serve Your Majesty.”
“Who is this?” a nonplussed Hua Cheng asked the eunuch.
The eunuch didn’t actually look surprised by the question. “Replying to Your Majesty, this is the Lady Qi of Mediocre Talent.”
“Why is she here?” Hua Cheng said coldly.
Given the eunuch’s expression, Hua Cheng was rather surprised he didn’t just drop to his knees right then and start begging pathetically for his life. “Your Majesty asked this humble servant to choose a member of the harem to test for poison.”
“Yes,” Hua Cheng agreed. “We don’t want this one. Choose a different one.”
He dismissed Lady Qi, catching a hint of relief on her face as she bid farewell. She may have only mediocre talent, but at least she wasn’t stupid enough to be blinded by the protagonist halo.
At this point in the novel, there should be at least a dozen members of the harem, if not more, so it wasn’t unreasonable that the eunuch didn’t know which one he wanted, but Hua Cheng couldn’t help feeling annoyed. How did this blind fool not see the obvious choice?
If Hua Cheng directly asked for Xie Lian, the system would no doubt start making a racket again and trying to eject him from this world.
“This humble servant understands.”
Hua Cheng huffed and propped his feet up on the table, ignoring the eunuch’s scandalized expression. He couldn’t be sure this fussy old man really did understand. “We want someone pleasing to look at and sturdy enough to withstand a bit of poison if necessary. Someone who does not have political ties we need to be cautious of. Is this too much to ask?”
“Your Majesty!” the eunuch gasped. “This hum—”
“Oh, just scram already,” Hua Cheng said, lazily waving his hand. “Don’t come back until you’ve found the most suitable candidate.”
The head eunuch scrutinized him for a long moment as Xie Lian waited in uncomfortable silence. “His Majesty has summoned you,” the eunuch finally said. He puffed out his chest a bit as he announced this.
Xie Lian’s brows drew together. “What for?”
The day had already been strange, what with the random appearance of the king’s sedan and the subsequent flood of servants who had apparently come to make the Cold Palace “less offensive to His Majesty’s royal vision.” These aesthetic changes had little bearing on Xie Lian, so he’d focused on meditating instead, while Feng Xin stood angrily at the window, suspecting them of some sort of trick.
The eunuch gave an annoyed flick of his whisk. “Is it for you to know what for? Do not keep His Majesty waiting.”
Xie Lian sighed and took a step forward, but Feng Xin’s hand on his arm pulled him back.
“Your Highness!” his bodyguard said in a low, urgent tone. “You can’t go!”
Mu Qing’s face was set in a grave mask, but not even he contradicted Feng Xin’s words this time.
“I have to go,” Xie Lian reminded them both. He patted Feng Xin’s hand and removed it from his arm. “Don’t cause trouble. I’ll be back soon.”
The eunuch muttered warnings and admonishments to him the entire way to the royal study. Xie Lian listened politely at first, but after a while he started to tune him out. Whether Xie Lian pleased the king or not, he didn’t really care. Both outcomes were undesirable.
Xie Lian kept his head lowered as he entered the study and knelt down to perform a greeting. It was not a natural posture for him, but he’d had to learn it for the sake of self-preservation.
“Your Majesty, this is Lian-shijun,” the old eunuch said.
Xie Lian frowned slightly. This title placed him at the bottom of the harem’s hierarchy and was really no better than being titleless; it simply meant his role was to serve the king. But he could no longer cling to the pride of a royal son, so he had to grit his teeth and say nothing.
“This one will do,” the king said. His deep voice was surprisingly pleasant to Xie Lian’s ears despite the haughty tone. “Come here.”
The old eunuch wiped the sweat from his forehead and urged Xie Lian forward.
Xie Lian couldn’t help but glance up as he approached the man in blood-red robes. He really was as handsome as the rumors suggested—perhaps even more so—with a black eyepatch concealing one eye and a trace of amusement on his face as he caught Xie Lian’s gaze.
“Do you know why you’re here?” the king said.
Xie Lian nodded, unwilling to reply. He’d been summoned here to test for poison; he needn’t demean himself further by talking about it.
“Good. What are you waiting for, then?”
Xie Lian calmly picked up a pair of chopsticks and selected a pastry from the dish closest to him. Under the intent gaze of the king, he took a delicate bite. Between his time in the Xianle prison, the long journey here, and the desolate days in the Cold Palace, he hadn’t tasted food so luxurious in a long time. It was hard to appreciate it now.
“How do you expect to properly test for poison with such a small bite?” the king said.
“. . .” Xie Lian had been planning to eat the whole pastry anyway—it would be a waste otherwise, surely—but he hadn’t expected to be rushed like this. He put the rest of it in his mouth, no longer concerned with propriety.
“Is it delicious?”
Xie Lian couldn’t help but look at him, trying to gauge whether the king was mocking him, but Hua Cheng’s face gave nothing away.
“Yes, Your Majesty. The palace cooks are skilled.”
“Eat another one. We can’t be sure how small the poison dosage is, so you’d better be thorough.”
Xie Lian was quite speechless. He wanted to ask if the king had personally poisoned the food, but he managed to refrain. With his constitution, he didn’t fear a bit of poison, so he obediently ate another pastry.
“Another one, just to be certain.”
Hua Cheng continued to order him around, making him try every dish multiple times. His paranoia seemed rather extreme, but considering the bloody way he’d acquired his throne, it did make some sense.
Xie Lian certainly wasn’t going to complain, even if he did start to feel a bit sick from eating too much. He only regretted that he couldn’t bring any food back for his companions.
“Your Majesty, all of these dishes appear to be safe, as far as this subject can tell,” Xie Lian informed the king after he’d tried the last one.
“Good. Now—” The king paused for a brief moment. “Get out. I’ve suddenly gotten the urge to hunt some fowl.”
Unsure whether to laugh or cry, Xie Lian made a hasty retreat back to the Cold Palace.
Hua Cheng was feeling quite satisfied with his plan. The original owner of this body was known to be capricious and unreasonable, so that damn bird could hardly argue with him using Xie Lian as a shield.
There was no poisoning attempt this early in the story, so Hua Cheng could happily present his favorite character with all this exquisitely prepared food.
After seeing him in the flesh, Xie Lian exceeded all of Hua Cheng’s expectations. He was beyond imagination, pure and otherworldly like an immortal who had descended from the heavens for a brief visit.
He’d never seen anyone so beautiful, not in this world or the last. He never wanted to look at anyone else again.
Because he had built no tacit understanding with the palace staff, however, a random eunuch dared to present him with a tray of name plaques that very evening.
“Your Majesty, please select a name tag.”
Hua Cheng nearly laughed out of anger.
When he didn’t respond, the servant grew anxious. “Your Majesty has not visited the harem for several days. Your concubines miss you like the deserts miss the rain!”
Hua Cheng was supposed to be a tyrant, but he clearly wasn’t a very good one if a mere servant dared to speak to him like this. Trying to coerce him into spending the night in the harem—preposterous! It wasn’t as though he could flip Xie Lian’s tag now, when he didn’t have free rein over his actions and words. He didn’t want Xie Lian to feel at all resentful of his presence or fearful of what he might do.
Hua Cheng still didn’t say anything, so the eunuch continued, “Your Majesty, the queen dowager will blame this humble servant if a tag is not flipped today!”
“Enough with the hysterics. We have important matters of state to attend to. Do you want to take responsibility for the well-being of the common people yourself?” He threw the memorial he was holding; it smacked the young eunuch on the shoulder. “Get out!”
The eunuch didn’t dare press any further. He scrambled away, no doubt to go get scolded by the queen dowager.
Hua Cheng really couldn’t be bothered to deal with her. As queen dowager, she was officially his royal mother. The original Hua Cheng’s own mother had been a palace maid who died when he was young, leaving him without any support in the palace—not that she would have been able to protect him anyway, given her status. He was never allowed to acknowledge her as his mother, even after her death.
Though the late king’s queen never managed to bear him any sons, she had taken no maternal interest in Hua Cheng. He was never her favored candidate in the succession battle. She’d gone to great efforts to stop him from ascending the throne, even convincing the Royal Astronomical Bureau to declare that Hua Cheng was unfit to rule as a bastard born under the Star of Solitude.
In the end, though, Hua Cheng was the only candidate left standing after he killed all of his brothers. There were even rumors that he killed his father, the king, as well, but the author never seemed to make up his mind about whether that was true.
Hua Cheng was fairly young when he became king, so the queen dowager still held out hope of controlling him, but that womanizing tyrant was not easily manipulated. Though she had great support among the court ministers, he had a scimitar he could conveniently pull out when one of them displeased him.
This current point in the plot shouldn’t be too far from when the original Hua Cheng had convicted the queen dowager for some crime she probably was guilty of, delivered her the white silk, and wiped out her entire faction.
The transmigrated Hua Cheng, however, had more important things to concern himself with than some scheming old woman.
On the second day of his new life inside a book, he had to attend morning court.
It only took a few minutes for him to decide that death would be preferable to listening to these snakes prattle on and put on airs in front of him, but he had no choice but to sit through it all and make some decrees for the good of Tonglu’s people.
Luckily, the original Hua Cheng was known to do as he pleased.
Unluckily, there were some things still out of his control.
“My sister, the noble consort, has long admired Your Majesty,” said the minister of revenue. He’d stayed behind for a private audience with the king, supposedly about some important matters of the Treasury, yet now he really dared to raise such an irrelevant subject. “She was fortunate to receive Your Majesty’s praise at the autumn banquet and wanted to express her sincerest wish—”
Hua Cheng was about to tell him to scram when a tinny voice suddenly interrupted his plans.
[Congratulations! You have embarked on the quest “Winning the Noble Consort’s Heart.”]
Hua Cheng’s gaze filled with murderous intent, but he was unable to locate the bird after a quick survey of the room.
“What’s your name?” he demanded.
The minister of revenue’s brows drew together. “This minister is Shi Wudu, Your Majesty. My sister is—”
Hua Cheng swore viciously in his heart. Why couldn’t he have gotten a quest to kill someone or destroy something?
Who wanted to win Shi Qingxuan’s heart?
The noble consort in the book did not want to join Hua Cheng’s harem at all, but her brother forced her to become a concubine for his own political gain. The king of Tonglu had developed an interest in Shi Qingxuan that only deepened the more she tried to dodge his advances, but the whole debacle still took precious weeks of effort.
In the end, Shi Qingxuan had not managed to live out her days peacefully in the harem. She was frequently targeted by lower-ranked concubines who coveted her position, and she did not possess the ability to thwart any of their schemes. Once she became irrelevant to the plot, she was accused of having an affair with Hua Cheng’s most loyal military general. Her storyline ended with a cup of poisoned wine in the royal prison. Whether she was framed for adultery or truly guilty, the author never bothered to inform his readers.
“Quest rejected!” he hissed under his breath. No one was standing close enough to hear him, but he knew the system would.
[Once a quest has been initiated, it cannot be rejected. Failure to complete the quest will result in a fixed deduction of points. New quests cannot be undertaken until the existing quest is complete.]
Hua Cheng deeply regretted his inability to make that bird explode from afar. He would need to cultivate his martial arts more to discover if that were possible.
“Why do we need you to pass on the wishes of our own noble consort?” Hua Cheng said haughtily, gripping his throne tightly in an attempt to hold back his anger. “We will go see her ourself.”
“Your Majesty.” Shi Wudu bowed, clearly pleased to have extracted some royal favor for his sister. He had no interest in Shi Qingxuan’s ambivalence toward the king—not when he could raise his own standing merely with some whispers by the pillow. In theory, anyway. Despite the minister’s efforts to scheme, the original Hua Cheng had no interest in most of his harem until he encountered each concubine in absurdly dramatic ways and suddenly “fell in love.”
Once Shi Wudu left, Hua Cheng dismissed everyone else from the room too. He slouched in his throne and drummed his fingers against the armrests.
“Does the noble consort whose heart I win have to be Shi Qingxuan?”
[Major deviations from the original plot will result in point deductions!]
“What will you do if I exterminate all avian creatures in this world?”
The system did not answer this time. Stupid fucking bird.