Pei Lingyue wiped the sweat from his brow without changing his expression—close call. He had nearly set a trap for the Crown Prince.
Sending Pei Yuheng in had been the right decision after all.
No matter how meticulously he had planned, he hadn’t anticipated the Crown Prince giving up his position to Consort Hui, nor had he expected Pei Yuheng to seize it instead.
Originally, he had intended to arrange a private encounter during the ancestral rites. But upon closer planning, he realized it was far more difficult than imagined.
He couldn’t find a plausible excuse to dismiss the two ritual officials.
So Pei Lingyue changed tactics—he decided to insert the court painter instead, planning to later use the excuse of the portrait lacking resemblance to have the painter redo Consort Hui’s image, thereby creating an opportunity for a private meeting.
There was no way he would let such a chance to trigger a mission slip away.
By now, Pei Lingyue had begun to grasp the intentions of the System Deity and the celestial court behind it. As long as Consort Hui interacted with the target of the mission, new tasks were likely to unfold.
Thus, he had specifically ordered someone to dig a pit—no one else but him had the ability to do so unnoticed near the ancestral temple.
The pit couldn’t actually harm Consort Hui, but it had to trap her. Once she fell in, someone would surely extend a helping hand—Great Qi’s customs weren’t so rigid as to frown upon such a gesture.
With contact made, the mission would naturally follow.
He had thought his plan flawless… but reality had other ideas.
Instead of Consort Hui, it was Pei Yuheng who tumbled in.
Though the mission wasn’t triggered, at least the Crown Prince had been spared—a small mercy in this misfortune.
Pei Lingyue concluded that for such schemes, his personal presence was indispensable. Otherwise, things could spiral out of control, just like today.
The Empress glanced at the Emperor, her eyes tinged with resignation.
Pei Lingyue remained unperturbed as he declared, “Let us set aside the matter of Prince Feng’s heir being punished by the ancestors for now—”
Pei Lingyou immediately bristled at this.
“Yuheng was framed!” What nonsense about ancestral punishment—was the Emperor trying to ruin his son’s reputation?
Pei Lingyue continued smoothly, “The original plot was meant to target Consort Hui and the Crown Prince, but through the ancestors’ unseen guidance, things unfolded as they did. The will of our forebears was made abundantly clear in this matter.”
The words nearly made Pei Lingyou spit blood in frustration, yet he couldn’t find a rebuttal.
Gritting his teeth, he swore inwardly—once he uncovered the culprit, he would make them pay dearly!
He had to admit, though, that his son’s luck was truly abysmal.
The only one present who might know the truth was the Empress.
She couldn’t help but marvel inwardly: The Emperor’s audacity remains as unshakable as ever.
Pei Lingyue, having gained the upper hand, pressed on magnanimously, “Very well. I understand Yuheng suffered today, and I will investigate thoroughly to ensure justice is served. But for now, our priority is opening this box.”
A military officer suggested, “Shall we just hack it open?”
Yu Miaohua interjected, “When I shook the box earlier, it seemed to contain books.”
The box was rather heavy, and after holding it briefly, the Crown Prince had taken over.
Pei Lingyue was also curious about the box’s durability. Judging by its texture, it resembled steel?
He looked up and said, “General Zhao, give it a try.”
The summoned general hesitated awkwardly. “My sword was confiscated.”
Today’s ancestral rites naturally forbade carrying weapons.
[Heh, let them try. If they can break it, I’ll take their family name! This is modern composite steel—top-tier hardness.]
[The steel and iron of this era are like toddlers compared to it.]
The System preened with pride.
Pei Lingyue caught the message, his eyes flashing with desire.
When would he get his hands on such technology?
Consort Hui needed to work harder.
Ah, why did the System Deity limit the selection to just three people? Couldn’t it allow more?
General Zhao’s sword was soon retrieved—along with those of the other officers. The palace attendants were quick-witted; if one blade shattered, others stood ready.
After all, multiple attempts would better showcase the ancestors’ gift.
The safe was placed on the ground.
General Zhao swung his sword with all his might—a strike that could cleave stone in two.
The safe merely slid slightly.
Not only was it uncut, there wasn’t even a scratch.
General Zhao’s heart shattered. “How…?”
Then came the final blow—a crisp snap as his prized sword broke in two.
“My sword…” He stood devastated. What kind of steel was this box made of?
“Old Zhao, did you skip breakfast? Let me try!” Another general stepped forward. “My blade is a divine relic from two centuries ago, sharp enough to slice iron like mud. It’ll split this box open!”
Yu Miaohua already foresaw the outcome.
Moments later, General Sun stood petrified, clutching his broken “divine” sword, muttering, “Impossible…”
She sighed. When would they learn?
After five precious swords met their demise, the generals finally abandoned brute force—though their gazes now burned with fascination. Could this material be melted down for forging?
Imagine the peerless blades it could yield!
Crown Prince Pei Chiyan spoke calmly, “I believe entering the combination is the wiser approach.”
He lifted the box again, brushing off the dust from the ordeal. “The lock has three dials, each rotating to different numerals.”
The numbers, engraved seamlessly into the steel, showcased craftsmanship beyond their era’s capabilities.
Pei Lingyue had a hunch about the combination—since the System Deity arranged it, it must relate to Consort Hui.
He cleared his throat, but before he could speak, the Second Prince interjected, “Surely the code concerns His Majesty!”
“Could it be the Emperor’s birth date?”
Eager to regain favor after recent coldness, the Second Prince believed himself far cleverer than the Crown Prince. Had it been him, he’d have tried the Emperor’s birth date en route.
Pei Lingyue’s expression darkened. He fought the urge to grind his teeth.
This son was beyond salvage.
Yu Miaohua shot the Emperor a sympathetic look, quipping to the System:
[The Second Prince is the epitome of ‘digging a pit for one’s father,’ isn’t he? Poor Emperor.]
The Empress nearly laughed aloud. Though the term was new, its meaning was crystal clear in this context.
The Crown Prince replied evenly, “We tried that on the way. It wasn’t correct.”
The Second Prince’s face flushed with humiliation—the Crown Prince had known all along! This was deliberate mockery!
"Could it be Empress Zhenyi's birthday?"
A voice rose among the ministers.
Yu Miaohua couldn’t help but shoot an awestruck glance in that direction—oh dear, who was this clueless fool?
Everyone knew the current Emperor held no affection for Empress Zhenyi. Mentioning her now was like dancing on the Emperor’s nerves.
The minister who spoke paled as soon as the words left his mouth, nearly dropping to his knees to beg for forgiveness.
Pei Lingyue snorted inwardly. As if the ancestors would ever choose that as the code.
With an air of magnanimity, he said, "Crown Prince, try eight-one-four."
It was Empress Zhenyi’s birth date.
The Crown Prince input the numbers, but the chest remained unmoved.
Pei Lingyou watched, faintly disappointed. Had the code been Empress Zhenyi’s birthday, it would’ve been a perfect slap to the Emperor and Empress Dowager’s faces.
Pei Lingyue continued, "Now try nine-two-four."
Empress Zhenyi’s death anniversary.
The Crown Prince calmly entered the digits. Still, the chest didn’t budge.
He suppressed a sigh. Why couldn’t they just cut to the chase and input Consort Hui’s birthday?
Pei Lingyue feigned contemplation. "It seems this chest has no connection to Empress Zhenyi at all."
The Empress, unable to hold back, smiled thinly. "Since the chest appeared because of Consort Hui, why not try her dates?"
Without hesitation, the Crown Prince entered two-two-zero.
Every eye in the room locked onto the chest.
With a click, it opened.
The Crown Prince’s face bloomed into a radiant smile. "As expected—Consort Hui’s blessed birth date."
Pei Chiyao seethed. Again with Consort Hui?
The ancestors were blatantly playing favorites. Not only had they personally sent gifts for Consort Hui, but they’d also used her birthday as the code, making it impossible to erase her contributions.
Consort Hui was already untouchable in the palace. Now, with the ancestors’ divine endorsement, her position was unshakable.
One might think she was the Great Ancestor’s true descendant.
Compared to her, he, the legitimate heir, felt like an afterthought.
So unfair.
But no one cared about Pei Chiyao’s grievances. The contents of the chest held far more interest.
Pei Lingyue eagerly snatched up a book—Locust Control Methods. His eyes widened.
Previously, the system had disguised its rewards as ordinary tomes from the imperial library.
But today, under the ancestors’ divine aura, the books broke free from such constraints.
The modern hardcover design was a staggering leap beyond this era’s printing capabilities.
The cover’s intricate beauty defied comprehension. Inside, every character was crisply printed, interspersed with vivid illustrations.
This was no human-made book!
Even Pei Lingyue, who’d expected wonders, was stunned. The ministers? They descended into reverent frenzy.
"A miracle! A true divine miracle!"
They passed the books around like sacred relics.
The Perfect Kang Bed-Stove: Winter Warmth as Cozy as Spring
Pig Farming Encyclopedia: Castration, Breeding Selection, Disease Prevention
Comparing Straight and Curved Plow Efficiency in Agricultural Productivity
Tired of Cloudy Wine? Enter the World of Distillation
Comprehensive Guide to Hatching Chicken, Goose, and Duck Eggs
Pei Lingyue discreetly pocketed the locust control manual. With drought looming, it was best not to alarm anyone yet.
Tears welled in the ministers’ eyes. "The Great Ancestor and past emperors never forgot the people of Great Qi," one murmured. "That’s why they sent these through Consort Hui."
Yet, questions lingered.
Minister Zhan whispered to Xue Bin, "Why didn’t the ancestors present these during earlier ceremonies?"
Why wait for Consort Hui?
Had she not come… would these treasures have remained hidden forever?
Xue Bin, whose mother was a devoted follower of Consort Hui, had a ready answer. "Perhaps excessive interference risks karmic backlash."
"But Consort Hui is different. As a divine maiden, her touch mitigates the repercussions."
Nods of understanding spread, especially among the Imperial Academy scholars.
"No wonder we never found those books."
"No wonder only Consort Hui could retrieve sacred texts from the library."
It all made sense. Ordinary mortals weren’t meant to meddle in such cosmic matters.
Yu Miaohua maintained a serene expression while marveling at their elaborate justifications.
[So logical. If I didn’t know the truth, I’d believe it too.]
[Thanks for the script, Minister Xue. This’ll be my official backstory now!]
[At least they won’t question these manuals. They’ll actually promote the techniques.]
Letting the legendary emperors take some credit was a small price for improving commoners’ lives.
Pei Lingyue made a swift decision. Scanning the room, he announced, "By the ancestors’ decree, We hereby elevate Consort Hui to Noble Consort Hui."
The planned March investiture might as well happen now—winning her favor before the Empress Dowager could steal the credit.
With today’s spectacle, no one would oppose.
[Holy—!]
The system’s shock manifested in three mental expletives.
Pei Lingyue smirked. Even the gods were impressed by his boldness.
[Ahem! I declare myself the Emperor’s biggest fan for the next month! Hidden mission complete: Reach Noble Consort rank within a year. Reward: 1,000 points + three ‘Echoing Melody’ skill uses.]
The system was ecstatic. The ‘Consort-in-a-year’ mission had been impressive enough, but this? Beyond wildest hopes.
As for becoming Empress within a year… that dream was dead.
Yu Miaohua would never agree. She adored the current Empress—even spent rewards to protect her.
And with the Empress around, the title of Imperial Noble Consort was off the table.
Yu Miaohua nearly forgot to kneel in gratitude.
The Empress gently prompted, "Noble Consort Hui, the decree?"
Snapping back, Yu Miaohua dipped into an elegant curtsy. "This humble one thanks Your Majesty for his boundless grace."
"Rise."
She stood, still dazed.
[By the way, what’s the ‘Echoing Melody’ skill?]
"Ah, you must know the allusion of 'lingering melodies around the beams.' With this skill, you can act as a peerless songstress—just sing a tune, and the effect will be so enchanting that the listeners will hear it echoing for three days without end."
"Of course, our skills are produced by the Transmigration Bureau, so the duration is even longer—lasting three whole months."
Yu Miaohua had a sudden idea.
"What's the range of this skill? Can I target specific people?"
"Let me check the manual... Yes, it's a group-targeting skill."
"Oh, so if I play horror sound effects for them, will they keep hearing it for the next three months?"
She could scare them out of their wits.
"...Host, sometimes I realize you can be quite shameless." Couldn’t she just be a proper peerless songstress? Did she have to use it to terrify people?
"Thanks for the compliment."
Yu Miaohua noticed that the rewards for these hidden tasks were usually things she could actually use.
Pei Lingyue saw the reward and immediately wanted to use this skill on Prince Feng.
His gaze fell on Prince Feng, hoping he would voice opposition to the decree of conferring honors and offend Consort Hui.
Second Prince Pei Chiyao shared the same thought.
Pei Chiyao had already been subtly warned by his mother that Consort Hui, who already enjoyed the privileges of a Noble Consort, would eventually be officially promoted.
But he hadn’t expected it to happen so soon. Now that she was Noble Consort Hui, his mother would have to bow to her in the future.
He glanced at the court officials—these ministers, holding their memorials, didn’t utter a single word of dissent.
Spineless cowards! They couldn’t be relied on.
Then he looked at Prince Feng. Prince Feng had previously tried to expose Consort Hui as a fraud, and because of his actions, her reputation had suffered. Moreover, Prince Feng’s heir had even attempted to compete with her for position in the ancestral temple—surely, the father and son must despise Consort Hui deeply.
Feeling two pairs of eyes on him, Pei Lingyou found it utterly baffling.
If his elder brother was looking at him, fine—but why was his second nephew staring at him?
Did they need him to take a stance?
Prince Feng Pei Lingyou recalled his son’s plan to win over Consort Hui and decided this was the perfect opportunity to curry favor with her.
He cleared his throat. "Noble Consort Hui is virtuous, wise, filial, and dignified. His Majesty’s decision to honor her aligns with the late Emperor’s teachings—this is a joyous occasion welcomed by all."
After cementing Noble Consort Hui’s reputation, he even composed three poems on the spot to praise Yu Miaohua.
Pei Lingyou’s literary talent was beyond doubt. The three poems extolled Yu Miaohua from every angle—detailed, sincere, and so flattering it could make anyone dizzy.
"Wow, Prince Feng’s praise is so well-crafted! I’m starting to see him in a new light. These poems are amazing—I’m going to frame them! System, did you record them?"
"Recorded!"
Though Yu Miaohua tried to maintain a dignified demeanor, the corners of her lips kept curling up uncontrollably.
Pei Yuheng regretted missing this chance. No matter—he could always commission scholars to write poems praising Noble Consort Hui later.
Pei Lingyue hadn’t expected Prince Feng to be so adaptable. Seeing the sparkle in Yu Miaohua’s eyes, he realized his miscalculation.
Once he returned, he’d have Pei Chiyan write poems for Noble Consort Hui—he couldn’t let Prince Feng outshine him!
Pei Chiyao’s heart shattered. He stared at his uncle with the eyes of a betrayed man—how could he yield so easily? Where was the pride of a feudal prince? Wasn’t he ashamed of dishonoring the Pei ancestors?
Oh, wait.
The first to yield had been the Pei ancestors themselves.
Pei Chiyao was numb.
No one paid attention to Pei Chiyao’s distress.
The court officials bowed to the newly appointed Noble Consort.
Yu Miaohua thought of the investiture ceremony—the rites for a Noble Consort would be even more elaborate than those for an ordinary consort.
She shuddered.
Turning to Pei Lingyue, she said, "Your Majesty, disasters struck this March. I don’t wish to squander funds on my investiture. Could we simplify the ceremony?"
Pei Lingyue considered it and nodded. "Agreed."
"Let’s just pick an auspicious day for the ministers and noblewomen to enter the palace and pay their respects."
Though simplified, the basics were still necessary.
Yu Miaohua beamed.
Many officials were moved.
Such an investiture was a dream for imperial consorts—yet Noble Consort Hui chose frugality for the sake of the people. Truly compassionate and selfless. Anyone who opposed her should examine their conscience.
With this, the day’s affairs concluded.
Yu Miaohua retreated under the crowd’s admiring gazes.
News traveled fast in the palace. By the time she leisurely returned to her quarters, everyone in Guanju Palace already knew of her promotion.
Though the formal edict and seal hadn’t arrived, they all treated her as Noble Consort Hui.
The servants congratulated her in unison. "Congratulations, Noble Consort Hui!"
"Rise, all of you. This month, everyone gets an extra month’s wages and an additional meat dish." She could afford it—she’d surely receive plenty of gifts soon.
Since it was Yu Miaohua’s birthday month, they were already getting double wages. Now, with another month’s bonus added, the servants kowtowed again, their cheers nearly piercing the heavens.
...
In Yong’an Palace, Yuan Huirou was reviewing her treasury inventory.
She had already prepared a birthday gift for Yu Miaohua, but now that Miaohua had been promoted to Noble Consort, she needed to add more.
Given their close relationship, the gift had to be extra lavish—how else could she show their bond?
After some thought, she had an idea. "Bring out the golden Buddha and add it to the gift list."
Her maid Su Ning suggested, "Wouldn’t the fertility Guanyin that the old madam personally obtained for you be better?"
That fertility statue had been procured by Yuan Huirou’s grandmother. Half a year after receiving it, she had conceived.
Yuan Huirou recalled the fleeting look of resistance on Yu Miaohua’s face when pregnancy was mentioned.
Most imperial consorts longed for children—a source of future security. Even she was no exception.
But Yu Miaohua was different.
Perhaps she believed that having a child now would disrupt the delicate balance she’d achieved.
Miaohua was truly perceptive.
Yuan Huirou said firmly, "The golden Buddha. She’ll like that."
A massive, solid gold Buddha—very valuable.
She added a box of handmade silk flowers, two cases of yellow crystal, and some fine silks. That should suffice.
After inspecting the gifts, she headed to Guanju Palace.
Too bad Noble Consort Hui would surely dine with the Emperor today—she’d miss out on Guanju Palace’s famously delicious meals.
The palace’s cuisine was renowned, its chefs trained by Yu Miaohua herself, often whipping up novel and exquisite dishes.
...
Pei Chiyao returned to Qiongming Palace, urgently announcing, "Mother, the one from Guanju Palace has been named Noble Consort."
The Virtuous Consort's expression was complicated. "I've received the news. I didn’t expect it to happen so quickly..."
"I’ve already had gifts prepared and sent over."
With Yu Miaohua’s birthday and her promotion to Noble Consort, the gifts couldn’t be anything less than lavish. This time, she had practically bled her coffers dry.
Thinking back, it had only been a year since Yu Miaohua rose from a lowly Talented Lady all the way to Noble Consort. The number of gifts she had received was beyond counting.
Just from the gifts alone, she must have amassed a small fortune.
She turned to her son and said, "I’ve had your portion prepared as well."
Her son was prone to reckless actions—if left to his own devices, who knew what trouble he might stir up?
At this thought, the Virtuous Consort’s expression turned stern. "No matter how much resentment you hold toward Noble Consort Hui, once you step outside this palace, keep it to yourself."
"I know," Pei Chiyao replied irritably. "I’m not stupid. I just feel indignant on your behalf."
The Virtuous Consort remained calm. "I’ve long been prepared for this. Right now, the one with grievances isn’t me."
Pei Chiyao perked up, eager to hear about someone else’s misfortune. "The Phoenix Palace?"
The Virtuous Consort shook her head, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "Yong’an Palace."
Pei Chiyao suddenly understood. "Ah, of course. Yong’an Palace has enjoyed a prestigious status for years, second only to the Empress. Now, there’s someone sharing equal footing with her. Even if they were once close, resentment must have crept in. Especially since Noble Consort Hui holds the title ‘Hui’—in terms of rank, she would naturally take precedence."
When two consorts held the same rank, the one with an honorary title was considered superior.
The Virtuous Consort continued, "I hadn’t realized it at first, until the Noble Consort sent that golden Buddha to Guanju Palace."
Pei Chiyao looked puzzled.
She elaborated, "Though the golden Buddha is priceless, it can’t compare to the Bodhisattva statue in Yong’an Palace. That statue was personally sought by the Noble Consort’s grandmother years ago, obtained through devout prayers. It’s said to be extraordinarily efficacious—within half a year of enshrining it, she conceived."
"If she had truly been thoughtful, she should have gifted that Bodhisattva instead."
Her mother had already secured a fertility prescription for her, and today, she intended to personally deliver it to Noble Consort Hui.
Though she didn’t understand why Noble Consort Hui had grown distant lately, with this prescription, perhaps they could win her back to their side.
Pei Chiyao brightened. "So we just need to watch the two palaces fight it out?"
He no longer dared to make any moves against Guanju Palace himself, but if someone else was willing to do the work, he’d gladly enjoy the spectacle.
The Virtuous Consort smiled without answering.
...
The ancestral temple ceremony ended earlier than scheduled.
Pei Lingyue returned to Qianyuan Palace with the Crown Prince.
Pei Chiyan recounted everything that had happened at the temple. "Father, who dug that pit?"
Pei Lingyue remained composed. "I will investigate this thoroughly."
(Internally, he was pondering who would make the most convenient scapegoat.)
After a moment of silence, Pei Chiyan spoke again. "Father, I suspect Prince Feng’s household harbors ill intentions toward Noble Consort Hui."
"Perhaps they’re trying to win her over with emotions, coaxing her into their favor."
He figured it was better to bring this up now, lest the Emperor develop misgivings later.
Pei Lingyue scoffed. "I’ve known for a while. Why do you think Pei Yuheng prances around the palace dressed like a peacock every day?"
He shot the Crown Prince a look of exasperation.
Compared to Pei Yuheng’s relentless efforts, the Crown Prince was far too passive—his attitude was the problem.
Pei Chiyan was taken aback that the Emperor already knew. "Perhaps Prince Feng’s heir could be sent back to his estate to pray for Noble Consort Hui’s blessings."
He didn’t need to stay in the palace.
Pei Lingyue fell silent. Of course, he understood the logic. But... he couldn’t bring himself to do it.
Prince Feng’s household had already snatched one opportunity from him, and the thought rankled. He was determined to squeeze every last bit of reward and favor from Pei Yuheng.
Separating them now would mean utter defeat.
His gaze turned profound. "You wouldn’t understand."
(Alas, only the Empress and the Empress Dowager could possibly grasp the torment of his dilemma.)
Pei Chiyan truly didn’t understand. What should have been a simple matter had the Emperor looking as though it were an impossible task.
Pei Lingyue fixed him with an intense stare. "I have a task for you."
"Noble Consort Hui is pure-hearted and forgiving—a virtue, but also a weakness."
"Today, Prince Feng composed several poems praising her, and her attitude softened—"
Pei Chiyan pricked up his ears, waiting for the rest.
"I command you to write ten poems extolling Noble Consort Hui within the next few days. You must surpass Prince Feng’s efforts! I have faith in your talent!"
(Ten poems would surely earn Pei Chiyan her favor—perhaps even trigger a new quest. This was the perfect chance to bring them together.)
Pei Lingyue was quite pleased with his own brilliance.
Pei Chiyan’s face went blank. Had he just hallucinated?
