Jiang Kangyou stepped out of his house and leisurely made his way to a tavern he used to frequent.
Though he had sensed it when he returned to the capital the day before yesterday, walking through the streets now, he couldn’t help but marvel at how much livelier the city seemed compared to before. The common folk appeared more spirited, their faces alight with hope for the future.
Strolling at a relaxed pace, he listened in on their conversations.
"Hey, how did you know my son got into the bookshop? He earns two taels of silver a month now!"
"Who asked you? You’ve already said this three times! But how did your son manage it?"
"He used to work at a teahouse and picked up some literacy from the storyteller there. He says they’re using new printing techniques now—books will soon cost at least half as much."
"You’re not lying to me, are you?"
"It’s true! I heard they’re even using new methods for papermaking, so costs will drop. The paper workshops will be hiring soon—why not have your kids try their luck?"
"If even one of mine gets chosen, it’ll be a blessing from our ancestors. These new techniques… they wouldn’t have come from that legendary Consort Hui in the palace, would they?"
"Who else could it be?"
Ah, Consort Hui again.
Jiang Kangyou gave a slight nod. Over the years, he had entrusted his academy to his nephew and traveled across Great Qi to document local customs and traditions. Now, back in the capital, he intended to compile his findings into a book. Since last year, even in distant provinces, he had heard whispers of this palace consort—first as a Lady, then Noble Consort, then Imperial Consort, and now Consort Hui. Such a rapid ascent was unprecedented, surpassing even the former mistress of the Guanju Palace.
This year, her name had only grown more ubiquitous.
Upon returning to the capital, he found himself surrounded by talk of Consort Hui.
Everyone agreed the Yu family had struck gold with such a daughter. People clamored for even the slightest connection to this favored consort.
After a long walk, he arrived at the tavern he used to frequent in the capital. To his relief, it was still in business. The waiter was the same as before, though older, and didn’t recognize him. Years of exposure to wind and sun had roughened Jiang Kangyou’s skin, leaving it dark and weathered. Even his old friend who visited him yesterday had nearly mistaken him for a stranger.
Jiang Kangyou reserved a private room and asked the waiter, "Any good new wines to recommend?"
The waiter grinned. "How about trying the clear liquor?"
"Clear liquor? That’s nothing special." He’d often ordered it during his travels.
The waiter’s tone brimmed with pride. "You must be new to the capital, sir. The clear liquor nowadays is nothing like before—they use some new technique, something called ‘distilled liquor.’ It’s pricier, but the taste? Unmatched. The old stuff might as well be horse piss in comparison. Right now, you can only get it here in the capital."
When it came to alcohol, commoners were free to brew their own for personal use, but taverns and inns selling it had to purchase from the court. The liquor trade had long been a major source of revenue for the imperial treasury.
Jiang Kangyou nodded. "Bring me a jar, then."
Then, as if struck by a thought, he asked, "Who came up with this distilled liquor?"
The waiter shrugged. "No idea. As long as it tastes good, right?"
He quickly added, "Oh, but we don’t sell it by the jar anymore—just by the flask."
Jiang Kangyou frowned. "A flask won’t be enough."
The waiter smirked knowingly. "Back in the day, you could down a whole jar and barely feel a thing. But this new stuff? One flask will have you spinning."
After a moment’s consideration, Jiang Kangyou decided to take his advice.
Along with the flask of clear liquor, he ordered some fried peanuts, braised chicken feet, and crispy silverfish to go with it.
The waiter returned swiftly, setting down a tiny cup alongside the flask.
Jiang Kangyou eyed the cup—hardly more than a sip’s worth.
He poured himself a measure, revealing the four fingers of his left hand. Over a decade ago, he had lost one—though the younger brother of Empress Zhenyi had paid dearly for it, the finger could never be restored, just as his lost child could never return.
The liquor in the cup was clearer than any imperial tribute he’d ever seen. Were it not for the potent aroma, he might have mistaken it for water.
Its richness was unlike anything he’d ever tasted.
Jiang Kangyou took a sip, and his throat burned as if set aflame. His eyes lit up. "Incredible!"
No wonder the waiter had been so eager to recommend it. No wonder a single flask cost more than a whole jar of the old stuff.
This was real liquor. What had he been drinking all these years?
A thought crossed his mind—could this, too, be Consort Hui’s doing?
Jiang Kangyou had never put stock in tales of gods and spirits. Over the years, his travels across Great Qi had brought him face-to-face with countless so-called masters and charlatans, every last one a fraud.
Was Consort Hui just another pretender?
But he had, after all, tutored the current emperor for years and knew his temperament well—His Majesty was not one to be easily fooled, nor were the court officials mere figureheads.
So did gods and spirits truly exist?
Sipping slowly, he nibbled at the snacks, gradually feeling the liquor’s effects. Half the flask remained, yet he was already pleasantly intoxicated.
Jiang Kangyou chuckled at his earlier bravado—no wonder the waiter had reacted the way he did.
Just then, voices from the neighboring room grew louder.
"Prefect Yu’s youngest daughter has been enfeoffed as a County Lady. Now that’s what I call rising with the tide! Even Empress Zhenyi’s own sister never received such honors. Consort Hui’s favor is truly enviable."
"Just wait—Prefect Yu will get a noble title soon enough. The Yu family’s arrogance knows no bounds. Before Consort Hui even became a consort, they had the gall to demand Empress Zhenyi’s brother marry into their family!"
"How outrageous! And Consort Hui doesn’t even have an heir yet. Imagine if she bears a child—she’ll be another Empress Zhenyi."
"Empress Zhenyi’s sister never got a title. Everything Consort Hui does is calculated to win hearts. She’s playing a long game."
"Hush now. Imperial affairs are none of our concern." The voices gradually faded.
Jiang Kangyou remained unfazed, continuing his drink. By the time he finished the flask, his face burned, though his darkened skin hid the flush. Only a slight unsteadiness in his step betrayed his state.
After settling the bill, he left the tavern but didn’t head straight home. Instead, he detoured to buy a few sticks of candied hawthorns and selected some pastries from a bakery before finally making his way back. These treats were for Madam Zhang.
During his years of rough travel, she had forsaken comfort to accompany him, their bond unshakable. Wherever he went, Jiang Kangyou never forgot to bring back her favorite snacks.
When he returned, Madam Zhang sniffed the air and frowned slightly. "How many jars did you drink?"
Jiang Kangyou extended a finger, "Just one pot—that wine was so strong, just one pot made my head spin."
Madam Zhang brought him hot water to wash his face.
After freshening up, Jiang Kangyou sat down and watched his wife nibble on pastries in small bites. Suddenly, he chuckled, "This trip wasn’t for nothing. I overheard some gossip about Consort Hui."
Madam Zhang’s lips twitched, "The legendary divine maiden?"
Jiang Kangyou nodded, "The common folk in the capital hold her in high regard, speaking nothing but praise for her."
Madam Zhang remarked, "It’s easy to earn the praise of scholars, but to have so many commoners speak well of her is no small feat."
She shook her head slightly, a faintly amused expression on her face, "In the few days since I returned, many visitors have mentioned Consort Hui—some praising her, others envious. The jealous ones say the Emperor favors her excessively, to the point where even her unmarried younger sister benefits."
"I looked into it a little. Just based on the merits Consort Hui has openly contributed, if she were a man, she’d be granted the title of a non-imperial prince. Yet because she’s a woman, even rewarding her sister draws envy. How unfair is that?"
Jiang Kangyou said, "My wife has far more insight than those petty people."
His expression darkened, "Though some fools clearly take me for an idiot."
The conversation he’d overheard in the tavern had been far too deliberate.
The speaker knew of his disdain for Empress Zhenyi and his lingering resentment, deliberately linking Consort Hui to the late empress.
One had risen solely on her beauty, while the other had earned every promotion with undeniable merit. Should someone so capable be held back simply because she advanced too quickly?
Madam Zhang suggested, "Perhaps in a few days, I could pay a visit to Consort Hui in the palace and see her for myself."
Jiang Kangyou thought for a moment, then said, "I wouldn’t mind seeing her once as well."
What he despised were charlatans who exploited superstition for personal gain. As for deities—since he’d never witnessed them firsthand, he neither believed nor disbelieved.
But if Consort Hui could show him the legendary divine miracles with his own eyes, it would certainly be an enlightening experience.
He lowered his gaze, lost in thought—who had orchestrated today’s little performance?
In the days that followed, Jiang Kangyou continued to wander the capital leisurely, appearing idle.
This disappointed Old Madam Qin, who had been eagerly awaiting his impeachment of Consort Hui.
Why was there no movement from him? This was the same man who had once dismantled Empress Zhenyi’s entire family with ruthless efficiency.
Had the departure of his only son drained his spirit?
Then, an imperial decree arrived, summoning Jiang Kangyou to the palace.
Pei Lingyue had spent the past few days reviewing his teacher’s secret memorials—over the years, Jiang Kangyou had not only documented local customs but also gathered intelligence on prominent families.
"Teacher, you’ve worked hard all these years," Pei Lingyue said sincerely, noting how much darker Jiang Kangyou’s complexion had become. If only other court officials could follow his example—this was the kind of loyal minister he desired.
"It wasn’t hardship. These years of travel have given me much clarity."
Pei Lingyue looked at him intently, "What are your plans now, Teacher?"
Jiang Kangyou replied, "I intend to compile my findings into books."
A faint smile touched his lips, "Yesterday, I went out to buy paper. The price has dropped, and the quality seems better—all thanks to Your Majesty."
Pei Lingyue’s lips curved upward, "Consort Hui provided improved papermaking techniques. In a few more years, the price may halve."
Though the technology came from Consort Hui, its implementation during his reign would count as his achievement.
Pei Lingyue was determined to surpass the founding emperor as the greatest ruler in history.
Jiang Kangyou said, "As I thought. I must thank Consort Hui—otherwise, my salary wouldn’t cover the cost of paper."
He turned to Pei Lingyue, "Might I have the honor of expressing my gratitude to Consort Hui in person?"
Though Jiang Kangyou currently held no official post, the Emperor had granted him the honorary title of Grand Preceptor upon his return to the capital. While ceremonial, the position came with an annual stipend—hardly leaving him unable to afford paper.
Pei Lingyue suddenly understood—his teacher wanted to see Consort Hui for himself.
He cleared his throat lightly, "Granted."
After a brief pause, he instructed, "Summon Consort Hui to the cotton fields in the East Inner Garden."
Before introducing Jiang Kangyou to Yu Miaohua, he would first take him to see the cotton, earning his teacher’s goodwill in advance.
With Consort Hui’s reputation as a divine maiden so widespread, it wouldn’t do for his teacher to mistake her for a fraud.
Jiang Kangyou wore a faint smile.
When the imperial edict arrived, Yu Miaohua was engrossed in a new batch of TV dramas her system had recommended.
Having grown tired of the palace intrigue dramas she’d rewatched endlessly, she’d recently switched to modern romances for variety. These shows were also courtesy of her system, which had reluctantly footed the bill.
Lately, her system had been tiptoeing around her, its tone meek and apologetic.
The reason? Yu Miaohua had painstakingly leveled up to Tier 4, only to find no new features unlocked—not even worthwhile additions to the system store. The anticlimactic upgrade had infuriated her.
In protest, she’d holed up in her palace, refusing to step out or trigger any tasks.
Desperate to appease her, the system had gritted its teeth and covered her entertainment expenses for the year—dramas, novels, and comics included.
"His Majesty summons me to the East Inner Garden?"
Yu Miaohua repeated the order, her confusion plain.
The East Inner Garden’s former flora had been uprooted and replaced with experimental fields—especially the cotton plants, which Pei Lingyue treasured like gold, forbidding casual visits.
Was the Emperor calling her to inspect cotton?
Yu Miaohua asked, "Who else will be there?"
Chai Xiu replied, "Grand Preceptor Jiang."
Yu Miaohua’s eyes widened, "Grand Preceptor Jiang?"
When this eminent figure first arrived in the capital, a friendly concubine had briefed her extensively on his background—his standing in the Emperor’s esteem surpassed even that of the concubine’s own father.
Though Yu Miaohua enjoyed the Emperor’s favor, apart from that incident with the Tanhua painter, Pei Lingyue had never summoned her during official meetings with ministers.
Could Grand Preceptor Jiang have requested to see her?
Nervousness prickled at her, but she maintained a serene smile, "Give me a moment. I’ll go at once."
She couldn’t keep the Emperor and the Grand Preceptor waiting.
Her current attire—tailored from cloud-patterned brocade—couldn’t be changed now. After a moment’s thought, Yu Miaohua removed her jade bracelet and most of her hairpins, leaving only a peach-blossom hairpin and a silk flower. The effect was instantly more understated.
Chai Xiu escorted her to the East Inner Garden.
From a distance, Yu Miaohua heard a slightly hoarse voice—
"...This way, the common people will have more protection against winter’s chill. Discovering this cotton is a blessing for Great Qi."
A quiet joy warmed Yu Miaohua’s expression—no wonder the Emperor had arranged their meeting here. He was helping her win the Grand Preceptor’s favor.
"Your humble servant greets Your Majesty."
Yu Miaohua performed a courteous bow. In public, she never neglected proper etiquette, though she might relax a little in private.
"Rise. This is Grand Preceptor Jiang."
"This official pays respects to Consort Hui."
As an imperial consort, Yu Miaohua held a higher rank than the Grand Preceptor, so Jiang Kangyou bowed to her according to protocol.
Yu Miaohua inclined her body slightly. "Grand Preceptor, there’s no need for such formality."
Pei Lingyue smiled. "My teacher learned that the new papermaking method is connected to you and wished to thank you personally."
Yu Miaohua exhaled softly, replying modestly, "I didn’t invent that method—I merely had the good fortune to come across the book containing it."
Pei Lingyue countered, "But without you, we might never have discovered it, even in a hundred years."
That was all thanks to the System’s rewards.
Yu Miaohua simply smiled.
Grand Preceptor Jiang spoke earnestly, "The entire world owes Consort Hui their gratitude for this."
Yu Miaohua’s cheeks flushed slightly. Since all her rewards came from the System, she couldn’t help feeling undeserving.
[Host, this is the legendary Grand Preceptor Jiang—the infamous debunker of divine omens! His relentless skepticism landed him on Empress Zhenyi’s blacklist, leading to his downfall. As the "Divine Maiden," you should tread carefully. He might already have preconceived biases against us. How about we stage a genuine miracle to shock him and prove we’re not like those frauds?]
Yu Miaohua ignored the System. She needed to gauge Grand Preceptor Jiang’s attitude before deciding how to respond.
[Oh? A new mission! A true Divine Maiden fears no challenge. Host has triggered Main Mission 3.5: Without using omens or System abilities, convince Grand Preceptor Jiang that you are the real Divine Maiden! Reward: Penicillin production technology. Holy—! This is the legendary penicillin!!!]
[Sorry, Host. This time, I can’t help you.]
Yu Miaohua’s expression stiffened. Convincing Jiang Kangyou without using any skills? That’s impossible!
[System, I’d love that reward, but let’s give up. You know the current technological level can’t achieve high-purity penicillin. We can’t even create a sterile lab environment or isolate bacterial strains.]
[Host, we can still try! We can secure the reward first. This is penicillin—the miracle that reduces battlefield infection rates from 20% to 1%, drastically cutting mortality! It’s called one of the greatest inventions of the 20th century!]
No, no, no. Yu Miaohua chose to give up and lie flat.
Pei Lingyue, seeing the newly revealed mission, felt a surge of excitement.
Though he didn’t understand what penicillin was, he could tell it was something capable of snatching lives back from the King of Hell—just from the System’s reaction.
Even if he couldn’t produce it now… he could in the future. He wanted that reward!
Helping Consort Hui play the part of a divine maiden? This mission must succeed!
Grand Preceptor Jiang’s pupils dilated slightly. He clenched his fists inside his sleeves, forcing himself to remain composed and reveal nothing.
Just now, he had seen lines of multicolored text floating above Consort Hui’s head.
Before meeting her, Jiang Kangyou had mentally prepared himself for the possibility that she might truly be a divine maiden—after all, the Buddha’s radiance and the qilin’s auspicious appearance couldn’t be faked, nor could her accurate prediction of the earthquake in Lizhou.
Yet he hadn’t expected to witness divine intervention so soon.
Could that be… divine revelation?
He studied the words intently, growing more bewildered the longer he looked.
Was Consort Hui conversing with an unseen presence?
A mission?
If she convinced him she was the Divine Maiden, she would receive this miraculous "penicillin"?
Jiang Kangyou wasn’t foolish. Connecting this to the many extraordinary things Consort Hui had produced, a theory formed in his mind: Could her treasures all be rewards from completing tasks?
Were her miracles orchestrated by this deity?
Suppressing his turbulent thoughts, he continued discussing cotton cultivation with the Emperor as if nothing had happened.
Having traveled extensively across Great Qi, Jiang Kangyou had far more practical knowledge than officials who’d never set foot in the fields. He understood peasant psychology and knew how to incentivize cotton planting.
This wasn’t Yu Miaohua’s expertise, so she zoned out, lost in thought.
Jiang Kangyou noticed that the Emperor, usually meticulous in governance, seemed distracted today.
Though he pretended to listen, his gaze kept drifting toward Consort Hui.
Following his line of sight, Jiang Kangyou realized—the Emperor wasn’t looking at Consort Hui so much as at the space above her head, as if something fascinating hovered there.
[Host! Let’s brainstorm how to complete this mission. Three heads are better than one!]
[With just the two of us? No way. System, if I complete another mission and airdrop the reward to Jiang Kangyou’s house, then claim it was delivered via a divine dream, would that count?]
Yu Miaohua latched onto the idea. But she’d recently sent her rewards to the Imperial Ancestral Temple and had nothing left—unless she triggered and completed a new mission.
[No, that still counts as using System abilities. Invalid.]
The Palace Intrigue System lamented internally.
Pei Lingyue was equally disappointed: Why wouldn’t it count? This just made things harder for Yu Miaohua!
Observing the Emperor’s unconscious reactions, Jiang Kangyou formed another theory: Could the Emperor also see those floating words?
That would explain his favoritism toward Consort Hui.
It wasn’t just about her merits—it was about future gains. He’d always known this Emperor differed from his predecessor, who’d elevated concubines out of love, even at the Empress’s expense. Unless… the benefits outweighed the costs.
Jiang Kangyou suspected the Emperor might even assist Consort Hui in completing missions.
After all, Consort Hui seemed… rather naive and quick to give up, lacking perseverance.
For a moment, Jiang Kangyou also felt exasperated: She hadn’t even tried yet—why was she already surrendering?
"Your Majesty?"
Pei Lingyue tore his gaze away from Yu Miaohua’s head, coughing lightly and massaging his temples. "Teacher, I suffered from insomnia last night and am somewhat fatigued."
Yu Miaohua, bored enough to chat with the System, feigned concern. "Your Majesty, are you unwell? Should we summon the imperial physicians?"
He was her lifeline, after all!
Pei Lingyue grumbled inwardly: His ailment is of the heart, and only Yu Miaohua’s diligent efforts can cure it.
He feigned nonchalance. "It’s nothing. A good rest this afternoon will suffice."
Pei Lingyue addressed Grand Preceptor Jiang, "In a couple of days, I’ll discuss the cotton matter with you in detail."
Grand Preceptor Jiang gave him a profound look. "Your Majesty’s health is tied to the fate of the nation. I implore you to take good care of yourself."
Pei Lingyue had Grand Preceptor Jiang escorted back to his residence personally and even bestowed upon him a three-courtyard mansion within the city. The estate was conveniently close to the imperial palace, making it easier for the Grand Preceptor to attend court.
In addition, he gifted him five thousand taels of silver.
The reason was simple—his former mentor had retired early, spending most of his wealth to establish an academy. What little remained had been used over the years for scholarly travels. Now, he and his wife lived in a modest one-courtyard house, their last remaining asset, without even servants to attend to them.
After the rewards were bestowed, Pei Lingyue turned his thoughts to orchestrating a supernatural ruse.
Perhaps he could have a similarly built imperial guard disguise himself as the late emperor. In the dim light of night, it might just be convincing enough.
Adding some smoke and mist would make the illusion even more believable.
Earlier, after imprisoning the charlatan Qingsongzi, the constables had extracted numerous tricks he’d used to deceive people over the years. Now, those very methods could be employed on his mentor.
Pei Lingyue meticulously refined the plan, ensuring it was foolproof, then set it into motion with satisfaction.
...
Jiang Kangyou and his wife had already moved into their new residence, and the Emperor had thoughtfully sent servants to attend to them.
Madam Zhang remarked, "The Emperor holds you in high regard."
Jiang Kangyou nodded. "His Majesty is a wise ruler who values those who get things done."
Madam Zhang asked, "You’ve met Consort Hui now—what is she like?"
Her curiosity about Consort Hui was undeniable.
Jiang Kangyou smiled faintly. "She’s someone words cannot easily describe. Once you meet her, you’ll understand—she’s nothing like the rumors suggest. Rest assured, she won’t be another Empress Zhenyi."
Consort Hui’s temperament, if placed in the late emperor’s harem, wouldn’t have lasted three days.
This only piqued Madam Zhang’s curiosity further, but Jiang Kangyou refused to elaborate.
That night, after his wife had fallen asleep, Jiang Kangyou remained in his study organizing books—while servants could handle other belongings, only he could sort his treasured volumes.
Suddenly, a gust of wind blew out the candle on his desk.
As he fumbled for a flint, a familiar voice reached his ears.
"Minister Jiang."
Jiang Kangyou looked up to see wisps of smoke curling at the doorway.
He stepped outside. In the courtyard ahead, a figure hovered in the air, wearing an imperial crown, its face obscured.
"Minister Jiang, why do you not kneel before your emperor?"
Jiang Kangyou was momentarily dazed—was that the late emperor’s voice?
Though the face was unclear, the voice sounded eerily like his. Could it truly be him?
Once a staunch skeptic of the supernatural, Jiang Kangyou had become uncertain after witnessing the divine miracle above Consort Hui’s head.
"Your humble servant greets the late Emperor," he knelt.
"Minister Jiang, I come today for the sake of one person."
A suspicion flickered in Jiang Kangyou’s mind.
Was it about Empress Zhenyi?
After the late emperor’s death, he had relentlessly impeached the Fan Family, ensuring they faced execution or exile.
Old resentments surged anew—had the late emperor not been blinded by beauty, swayed by flattery, and allowed the Fan Family’s tyranny, the people would never have been pushed to the brink of rebellion.
His own son had died indirectly because of them. Even though the Fan Family had paid the price, his son would never return.
Then, the "late emperor" spoke again. "I come for His Majesty’s Consort Hui."
"Consort Hui is a divine blessing bestowed upon Great Qi. Yet, she is ensnared in schemes. Some seek to use you to tarnish her reputation."
"I command you to protect Consort Hui, to stand firmly for her in court, to affirm her identity as the Divine Maiden, and to thwart the plots of those vile men."
Hearing this, Jiang Kangyou’s expression turned peculiar.
A fake.
This was undoubtedly a fake late emperor. The real one would have chastised him for annihilating the Fan Family.
Recalling the task he’d been given earlier that day, Jiang Kangyou understood.
This was surely the Emperor’s doing.
How many times had His Majesty invoked the late emperor’s name to stage these supernatural theatrics?
Such filial devotion to his predecessor—what a blessing for the late emperor, and for Great Qi.
Jiang Kangyou rose to his feet and smiled. "Take me to see the Emperor."
Truly, a ruler whose filial piety moved the heavens—every single day.
