Pei Chiyan never expected that someone would dare impersonate him when he had merely written a few novels under a hidden identity.
He asked, "Did they not investigate who the real author was?"
His guard wore a complicated expression. "They assumed it was Scholar Zhou who wrote them and paid him a considerable sum. Scholar Zhou uses several pen names for different stories, and one of them happens to be 'Mountain Plum Daoist.'"
Scholar Zhou was a scholar who often wrote novels for the entertainment quarters.
When Pei Chiyan wrote those novels, he hadn’t bothered with a pen name—he simply stamped a plum blossom seal at the end. The seal wasn’t even specially chosen; it was one of twelve floral seals sent over by the Imperial Secretariat, and he had picked it at random.
After a brief contemplation, he deduced Zhao Qian’s intentions—it was no secret that Yu Miaohua loved reading novels. Over the years, many had tried to win her favor by writing stories for her, but so far, only Pei Chiyan’s tales had earned the honor of being collected by her.
Pei Chiyan believed these people had misunderstood one crucial thing.
Yu Miaohua didn’t care for flowery prose—what she valued was respect for the women in the stories. They had to be written as living, breathing individuals, not as mere symbols of virtue, obedience, or filial piety.
The guard asked, "Your Highness, should we expose Zhao Qian?"
The audacity of impersonating the Crown Prince to deceive the Divine Maiden was beyond outrageous.
Pei Chiyan remained silent.
The guard glanced at the stack of papers on the desk and said, "If Your Highness reveals your identity on the twenty-fourth, the Divine Maiden will surely regard you differently."
Who would have thought that the Crown Prince’s private hobby would become an advantage in courting a woman?
Pei Chiyan shook his head, his expression indifferent. "Go to the Duke of Zhao’s residence and inform him of this matter."
"The Duke has been loyal to Great Qi. He shouldn’t be ridiculed because of an unfilial son."
If he waited until the selection day to expose Zhao Qian’s fraud, it might leave a lasting impression on Yu Miaohua, but it would also embarrass Great Qi.
Moreover, Zhao Qian was handsome and had built a reputation as a talented novelist. To keep reading the stories she loved, Yu Miaohua might very well choose him.
As the Crown Prince of Great Qi, Pei Chiyan couldn’t prioritize his personal desires over the nation’s dignity—nor could he allow Yu Miaohua to suffer such humiliation.
He would finish the novel in the next two days and have it discreetly delivered to the Guanju Palace.
The guard, now understanding the stakes, bowed and left to carry out his orders.
…
At the Duke of Zhao’s residence, Zhao Qian was busy sorting through the expensive novels he had purchased from the common folk.
He needed to pick the best ones and memorize them so that when the Divine Maiden wished to hear a story, he could recite them flawlessly.
To outsiders, Zhao Qian was a young and promising scholar who had passed the provincial exams—there was no need for him to compete for the position of Divine Consort. But only he knew the truth: maintaining this façade of talent had cost his maternal family countless efforts, with several close calls over the years.
His younger brother not only resembled their father but also possessed martial prowess, earning their father’s deep affection.
Zhao Qian lived in constant fear that his brother would surpass him and inherit the dukedom.
His maternal grandfather shared this fear and had used silver and connections to craft Zhao Qian’s reputation as a literary prodigy—even bribing an examiner to secure the exam questions in advance, ensuring his success in the provincial exams.
But his grandfather’s influence couldn’t reach the metropolitan exams. Fearing exposure, Zhao Qian seized the opportunity when the court announced the selection of Divine Consorts. He told his father he had long admired the Divine Maiden and wished to serve her.
Becoming a Divine Consort would not only secure his position as heir but also excuse him from further imperial examinations under the pretense of serving the Divine Maiden.
And if he could father a child with her…
With that thought, Zhao Qian forced himself to keep flipping through the novels he despised.
This one was about a female coroner—since when did women become coroners? Absurd. Who would even read such a story? He tossed it aside and picked up another.
The next novel told of a woman disguising herself as a man to take the imperial exams and avenge her father. Were the men in her family all dead?
Zhao Qian skimmed through it impatiently and discarded it as well.
Finally, he found a story to his liking—a tale of a man whose family fell into ruin, leading his fiancée to abandon him. But he later topped the exams, was named the Emperor’s favored scholar, and married a princess. The ex-fiancée’s family, terrified of his newfound power, offered her to him as a concubine.
Just as Zhao Qian was engrossed, a servant arrived. "Young Master, a guest has come. The Duke summons you."
Zhao Qian set the novel down and followed the servant to the main hall.
His gaze landed on the visitor—dressed like a palace guard.
Had the Emperor sent for him?
Zhao Qian asked, "Might I ask who this esteemed official is?"
The guard glanced at him. "Young Master Zhao, I hear you are the author of the 'Imperial Envoy' series, the so-called 'Mountain Plum Daoist'?"
Zhao Qian smiled modestly. "Merely a few stories I wrote in my spare time. If they bring the Divine Maiden some amusement, then my efforts were not in vain."
He assumed the guard was from Guanju Palace.
The guard turned to the Duke of Zhao. "His Highness the Crown Prince has sent me to inform Your Grace that 'Mountain Plum Daoist' is his pen name. The plum blossom seal used was one delivered to the Eastern Palace by the Imperial Secretariat last year."
The Duke immediately understood. He turned to his son, furious. "You disgrace! You dared steal another’s literary fame?"
Zhao Qian felt as if a boulder had crushed his skull. He stood frozen.
What?
The Crown Prince was Mountain Plum Daoist?
He was finished.
Seeing his son’s stunned terror, the Duke’s rage flared. He struck Zhao Qian across the face.
The guard had no interest in watching the Duke discipline his son and soon departed.
The Duke was grateful to the Crown Prince for handling the matter discreetly, sparing his family public shame.
He never imagined that a man of his iron integrity would raise a son devoid of honor.
The Duke ordered Zhao Qian imprisoned and his attendants interrogated separately.
The investigation uncovered something even more damning—his son’s scholarly achievements were fraudulent, tied to exam corruption.
That very day, the Duke entered the palace.
Within twenty-four hours, several officials were imprisoned for their involvement in the scandal.
Zhao Qian and his maternal family were thrown into prison, his name struck from the records.
Since the Duke had been unaware and had reported the crime himself, Pei Lingyue did not punish him beyond a symbolic three-month salary deduction.
When news reached Guanju Palace, Yu Miaohua was stunned.
All she had wanted was to select a few Divine Consorts—who knew it would expose an exam corruption scandal?
So Zhao Qian wasn’t from Plum Blossom Mountain after all.
Then what was the true identity of the author she admired? This was way too mysterious.
Two days later, Yu Miaohua received a new storybook delivered from the Eastern Palace.
The palace attendant respectfully said, "This is a new story written by His Highness the Crown Prince recently."
Sending a storybook at this moment… Could it really be what she was thinking?
Yu Miaohua flipped straight to the last page and saw the plum blossom seal stamped there.
Case solved!
Plum Blossom Mountain’s author was actually the Crown Prince!
[Ahhh! Who would’ve thought the author Host has been chasing is actually His Highness the Crown Prince? This is what they call fate tying two souls together with a red thread!]
[...The Crown Prince is truly a master of time management.]
Yu Miaohua was genuinely impressed.
The Crown Prince had so much official business to handle, yet he still found time to write stories—and such excellent ones at that! No wonder he hadn’t released anything new in the past six months; he must have been busy promoting those reward policies.
She began reading, and within just a few lines, she was certain: Plum Blossom Mountain’s author was Pei Chiyan.
No one else could imitate this style.
Zhao Qian’s affairs had little to do with Yu Miaohua, so after learning he’d been thrown into prison, she paid no further attention.
Instead, she was busy negotiating with her system.
[System, even if someone clears all obstacles and makes it onto the list, it doesn’t guarantee their character is flawless. This time, I have to select nine divine husbands. What if one of them turns out to have issues later? Wouldn’t that reflect poorly on my judgment?]
[If I’m questioned, you’re questioned—can you tolerate that? Can’t you think of a way to help me pick truly upright candidates?]
The system agreed with her logic. If Host’s reputation took a hit, completing future missions would become even harder.
[Look, has the Transmigration Bureau ever had a more outstanding host than me? Which palace intrigue task-taker has ever managed to open a harem—let alone one the Emperor begged her to have? I’ve provided you with so much energy. Shouldn’t you cut me some slack? If I do well but get no benefits, I might as well slack off.]
The system couldn’t stand the word "slack." It immediately responded:
[I’ll go apply for special privileges for Host.]
Determined to fight for their rights, the system vanished in a flash.
Meanwhile, Pei Lingyue visited Yu Miaohua at Guanju Palace, bringing lavish gifts.
"This time, I misjudged a man—letting someone as morally bankrupt as Shen Qian make the list." The main reason was that the Duke of Zhao, one of Pei Lingyue’s trusted confidants, could also perceive the system’s divine presence, so the Emperor had placed extra trust in the Duke’s household.
As it turned out, a good Duke didn’t guarantee a good son.
Yu Miaohua comforted him. "Your Majesty and the Duke of Zhao can’t be blamed. He was simply too skilled at deception. The Duke’s decision to expose his own son’s crimes is truly admirable."
After all, imperial exam fraud wasn’t just a scandal—it could lead to execution. The Duke could have buried the matter, but he chose to expose it. When Yu Miaohua said she respected him, she meant it.
Pei Lingyue felt much better hearing this.
Just then, the system returned.
[Host, I’m back! I successfully applied for a temporary privilege from the Transmigration Bureau—the Fiery Golden Eyes!]
[During the divine husband selection process, the system can activate Fiery Golden Eyes to reveal any past illegal activities committed by candidates or their immediate family members.]
[I love this feature. Well done!]
This was essentially the ancient equivalent of a modern political background check.
Pei Lingyue: "!!!"
Such a benefit existed? Was this tool only usable for selecting divine husbands?
Damn it! He should’ve listed every eligible young man from every noble and official family! That way, he could’ve investigated the entire court’s backgrounds in one go.
Pei Lingyue was filled with regret, feeling like he’d missed a golden opportunity.
