Yu Miaohua had only watched the beginning of the video earlier, so this part was entirely new to her, and she found herself thoroughly engrossed.
[System, are you sure you didn’t sneak in some personal bias?]
It even took the opportunity to praise Pei Lingyue, calling him an emperor for the ages. Of course, Yu Miaohua also thought Pei Lingyue deserved the title. She had never seen another emperor who would open a harem for his consort just because of so-called "dowry gifts" from the heavens.
[Not at all, Host. This is genuinely what the Time-Travel Bureau observed a thousand years in the future. I just edited and shared a portion of it. But if Great Qi abolishes the women’s imperial examinations now, the future will change accordingly. According to predictions, canceling the women’s exams and removing the STEM subjects from the curriculum will lead to Great Qi’s collapse in five hundred years.]
Yu Miaohua let out a small sigh of relief—she had been worried the system might be fabricating things. If these women didn’t achieve what the system claimed, it would only harm them. Wait a minute…
[Even after I’ve contributed so much, the dynasty still falls?]
[Without you, Host, Great Qi would have perished in just 180 years. You’ve extended its lifespan by over three centuries.]
Admittedly, the system’s words were a great comfort to Yu Miaohua.
Her efforts had meaning. As for the women’s exams and STEM education—if these policies continued, it would mean people’s minds weren’t becoming more constrained. Combined with the dawn of the Industrial Revolution, as long as the transition was handled well, Great Qi could indeed endure indefinitely.
Recalling the offhand tone the video host used when mentioning Pei Lingyue, Yu Miaohua suspected that in the future, though Great Qi hadn’t fallen, the imperial family had likely become little more than figureheads.
Her expression softened unconsciously.
After today, the opposition would probably dwindle significantly.
Pei Lingyue and his ministers were split between watching the celestial screen and keeping an eye on Yu Miaohua and the divine being.
This attention nearly made their hearts leap out of their throats when the system inadvertently revealed something shocking.
Without the goddess, Great Qi would collapse in 180 years?
The women’s exams and STEM subjects… were truly that crucial? They were tied to the dynasty’s very survival.
Pei Lingyue took a deep breath, the number "180" stinging his eyes.
Damn it! Which incompetent descendant ruined the empire?
Noticing his expression, Empress Yang Zhaopei coughed lightly, keeping her voice low enough for only the two of them to hear.
"At least we’ve outlasted the previous dynasty."
Hearing this, Pei Lingyue instantly calmed down. True, the previous dynasty hadn’t even lasted two centuries. Great Qi was doing far better.
Besides, with the goddess here now, the future had already changed. He planned to promote the women’s exams—at the very least, Great Qi’s reign could last another thousand years.
He was an emperor for the ages. The failures of his descendants wouldn’t tarnish his legacy.
With that thought, Pei Lingyue regained his composure and could focus on the scenes from a thousand years later.
He watched as the young woman on the screen strolled through a campus, cheerfully introducing Great Qi’s famous female officials. She recounted their life stories with remarkable familiarity.
Many ministers felt a pang of sour jealousy.
These future people were so biased! Why only mention the women? Surely some of the men had left their mark in history.
The celestial screen continued…
[Why do I know so much about them? Mainly because of the hit drama from five years ago, The Legend of the Goddess of Great Qi. After its premiere, it broke viewership records, becoming a nationwide sensation. The actress who played the goddess skyrocketed from a third-tier star to A-list fame. In the show, Yu Miaohua was portrayed as breathtakingly beautiful, brilliant, and unshaken by countless trials, always staying true to herself. She guided other female officials, overcoming every obstacle, and alongside her beloved and closest friends, she built a golden age. Because of her, I did my homework and gained a deeper appreciation for these remarkable women in history.]
The woman in the video was clearly a devoted fan of Yu Miaohua, gushing about her without pause. In her words, Yu Miaohua was flawless—strategic, resilient, gentle yet strong, kind and pure.
Yu Miaohua, the recipient of this relentless praise, was so embarrassed she could have dug out a palace with her toes.
Was this really about her? She had no memory of enduring such hardships. Aside from a few months in the cold palace early on, she’d never suffered. If anything, she was the one who brought misfortune to others—like Consort Xu, the virtuous concubine, or the Princess of Daliang.
She had assumed future generations would dismiss the "goddess" as a fraud. Yet they accepted it without question? Couldn’t they at least be a little skeptical?
Yu Miaohua squirmed in discomfort, but no one else shared her unease. They gazed at her with reverence—truly, even after a thousand years, the goddess’s brilliance remained undimmed.
On the screen, the young woman stopped before a towering statue of a beautiful woman.
[Look, this is the statue of the goddess! There are over a thousand statues of her nationwide, and more than twenty temples dedicated to her. But the one at Capital University is said to be the most lifelike. Its design was based on a carving by Pei Yuheng. He adored the goddess for years, and on his deathbed, he requested that all the wooden statues he carved of her be buried with him. The goddess was too morally upright—if it were me, I’d have accepted them all. How could she refuse such a devoted and handsome man? Then again, Pei Yuheng’s love for her was no surprise. Reading the historical records, Yu Miaohua was practically the entire Great Qi’s unattainable ideal.]
Yu Miaohua tilted her head, studying the statue. It did bear some resemblance to her. The base was piled high with flowers and exquisite gifts.
[System, enough! Can we skip this part? You’re going off-topic.]
[No! This is the future praising you! I didn’t fabricate anything—the original video was even longer. Don’t worry, there’s plenty more footage celebrating women from all walks of life.]
The system had chosen this video precisely to show this era how fortunate they were to have her.
Yu Miaohua endured over ten minutes of nonstop, unrepeated adoration on the screen. She maintained a calm facade, but her eyes had long since lost their spark.
Pei Yuheng stared at the statue on the screen—it didn’t capture even a tenth of Yu Miaohua’s grace. To claim it was based on his work was an insult to his craftsmanship.
He pondered, thinking he would personally carve something to send to the women's academy.
In the sky, the young woman hadn’t stopped talking.
["The only thing I dislike about this drama is the ending—how could they make Emperor Qiwen and the Divine Maiden break up? I totally shipped the wrong couple! The finale had the Divine Maiden fake her death and retreat to the grasslands with Ceren to live in seclusion. The screenwriter must be a secret Ceren fan. Historically, Emperor Qiwen was the one who had the last laugh. He was utterly devoted to her—though he never managed to convince the Divine Maiden to accept the title of Empress, at least he secured his place as the father of her child, who turned out to be the renowned Emperor Qishizong."]
Upon hearing this, Yu Miaohua couldn’t help but blurt out, "Impossible!"
She knew herself too well—she was terrified of pain, so how could she possibly bear a child?
Even if she were given all the painkillers in the world… the mere thought of enduring ten months of pregnancy made her shudder. No, absolutely not! Was this really about her? Had the system tricked her?
Pei Lingyue, upon hearing the names Emperor Qiwen and Emperor Qishizong, was overjoyed. His gaze fell on Pei Chiyan, his eyes brimming with pride.
His son had done well. Though he hadn’t secured a formal title, at least future generations acknowledged him as the child’s father. He hadn’t failed his expectations. Emperor Qishizong—just from the temple name alone, it was clear he was another wise and virtuous ruler.
Truly, the child of Yu Miaohua and Chiyan was exceptional.
His decision to matchmake his son with Yu Miaohua had been the right one. Now, he’d like to see who dared suggest another candidate for Chiyan’s consort.
After his initial delight, Pei Lingyue grew somewhat indignant. How could future generations casually fabricate such wild rumors? What were the later emperors doing? How could they tolerate such nonsense? This was far too lenient.
Empress Yang Zhaopei wore a faint smile, her mind already wandering—what would the child’s nickname be? As the grandmother, she ought to prepare gifts in advance.
Pei Yuheng and Ceren gritted their teeth in frustration: So Pei Chiyan was the ultimate victor? How infuriating! He must have used underhanded tactics to deceive the Divine Maiden. She was too kind-hearted and naive, falling right into his trap.
He probably even used the fate of Great Qi’s empire to emotionally blackmail her.
What a cunning, despicable man!
Pei Yuheng, upon learning that history recorded him as being rejected by the Divine Maiden, was overcome with grief and indignation.
Pei Chiyan ignored the burning stares directed at him, his expression as calm as ever—though his ears turned red.
As for the other ministers, after hearing this glimpse of the future, they sighed in relief.
The Crown Prince was destined to become Great Qi’s future emperor, yet he had also been chosen as the Divine Consort. Previously, they had worried about the issue of his heirs, but now they could rest easy.
["Speaking of Emperor Qishizong, her birth was shrouded in divine mystery. She was born from a lotus flower, with blossoms blooming all around at the moment of her arrival. It’s said she bore a striking resemblance to Emperor Qiwen, so no one ever questioned her parentage. Back then, the Divine Maiden was surrounded by countless admirers—the competition was fierce. I strongly suspect Emperor Qiwen, Pei Chiyan, only won because of the child. He rode his daughter’s coattails to victory."]
Pei Yuheng clenched his jaw: So that’s how Pei Chiyan secured his position—by leveraging the child! Since the child was born from a lotus, it must have been a gift from the heavens.
He resolved to return home and pray fervently to the Buddha, begging for a child between him and Yu Miaohua. He would change his fate.
Yu Miaohua stared blankly.
Huh?
Did she give birth to Nezha or something? Was this the system’s doing? Which mission reward was this?
Oh, so she didn’t actually give birth? Well, that was a relief.
With that, she relaxed.
But while she was calm, everyone else was in an uproar.
Born from a lotus? This must be the reincarnation of a Buddha’s attendant!
Great Qi was destined for greatness! Tremble, other nations!
There was no way Yu Miaohua would ever bear a child herself…
