Chapter 252: The Unemployed Involution King

Chapter 252: Chapter 205: The Unemployed Involution King

The sharp-eyed ministers, summoned to Qiankun Palace to discuss state affairs, noticed a Glazed Cup on the Emperor’s desk that was the very antithesis of his usual style.

An Emperor’s preferences, no matter how strictly convention dictated they be concealed, were an open secret.

After all, so many pairs of eyes watched him day in and day out.

Xie Che favored ornate and elaborate objects. Everything had to be meticulously carved to reflect the style of his prosperous reign—only because the common people were safe and wealthy under his rule could they afford their Emperor’s taste for luxury. However, he only liked to spend money and effort on his personal effects. He didn’t commission grand spectacles or enjoy ostentatious inspection tours, so his expenses were limited and didn’t place an excessive burden on the nation or drain the treasury’s silver.

The Glazed Cup on the Emperor’s desk, however, was a stark departure from his usual tastes.

While the cup was made of glaze and thus crystal clear, that was its only merit. Its body was completely bare, without a single decorative pattern. The only convenience was a handle for gripping it. Its shape was also unlike other cups—a simple, large, and clunky cylinder. It was hard to imagine the Manufacturing Office daring to present such an item to the Emperor. Weren’t they afraid of a reprimand?

The Manufacturing Office was, in fact, being unfairly judged.

This was the cup that Lady Shufei had specifically commissioned.

Upon seeing the design, the artisans of the Manufacturing Office had suggested adding various patterns to the glaze, or even encasing it in gold and silver. A plain, unadorned cup might lead people to doubt the artisans’ true skill, or worse, assume they had disrespected Lady Shufei. Wouldn’t that be disastrous?

But the Pure Consort insisted it be made exactly as the blueprint showed, with no unauthorized additions.

The noble lady had given her command, and the Manufacturing Office had no choice but to obey.

Had the artisans known this cup would one day be presented to the Emperor himself, they likely would have fainted from shock.

“My dear minister, why are you staring at my cup?” Xie Che asked, feigning casualness. He smiled. “The Pure Consort wishes to encourage me to drink more water, so she had this cup specially made. She didn’t want it to have overly intricate patterns that might distract me from my duties.”

“Lady Shufei is so wonderfully considerate of you, Your Majesty. The Glazed Cup is a display of true ingenuity.”

The minister understood in a flash. ‘The Emperor is flexing his relationship.’

Xie Che said, “I, on the other hand, find it a bit too plain.”

The ministers bowed their heads and mumbled noncommittally, not daring to agree.

‘Are you kidding?’ The Emperor’s tone might have sounded regretful, but his heart was clearly delighted. He was obviously incredibly pleased with the cup from Lady Shufei. If they actually agreed with him, they’d probably end up on his blacklist. One of them spoke up with a smile. “Lady Shufei presented this to Your Majesty so that you would not be distracted by worldly objects. It is like a clear mirror hung high, reflecting the very hearts of men.”

As soon as he finished, his colleagues shot him sideways glances.

‘Dude, you’re laying it on a bit thick, aren’t you?’

The others just saw a particularly large cup. The only true intention was probably to make the Emperor drink more water. ‘Since when do harem concubines have such deep and profound thoughts?’

But then they saw Xie Che smile and say, “The Pure Consort has always been thoughtful toward me, and she thinks far into the future.”

‘…Well, so much for that. The Emperor thinks so too.’

The court officials who frequented Qiankun Palace all saw the Glazed Cup. They knew Lady Shufei’s Holy Favor was not only intact but stronger than ever. With both a son and a daughter, it was only a matter of time before she would be promoted to Noble Consort.

One of the ministers on duty was Lord Zhang.

Lord Zhang grew quite irritated listening to their gossip. ‘Among the Four High-Ranking Consorts, isn’t there also the more senior Princess Consort Zhang? How is it that when they discuss candidates for Noble Consort, no one even thinks of my daughter?’

An associate tried to console him. “Lady Xianfei is steady and has long held a high position. At the very least, she doesn’t bring trouble upon your family.”

But comparisons are odious.

Still, Lord Zhang was disheartened.

Noble Princess Consort Rong was “sick” again.

Her “illness” had the Emperor’s tacit approval. He knew she was proud, so he allowed her to use any excuse to feign sickness and remain in Zhaoyang Palace whenever she didn’t wish to see anyone. He also forbade others from bothering the Empress about the matter. The Empress, for her part, couldn’t care less if one more or one less person came to pay their respects; she was completely zen about it.

Ever since her father and brother were imprisoned, Noble Princess Consort Rong no longer spoke of the Emperor. She was only interested in Zhao’er and Yongping.

Yongping, still just a baby, was already showing her appreciation for beautiful faces. She was particularly enthusiastic around Noble Princess Consort Rong. And whenever the Noble Princess Consort asked, Jiang Xian would let Yongping spend the night at Zhaoyang Palace. This made the other concubines of the harem raise their eyebrows. ‘How can the Pure Consort be so magnanimous? Isn’t she afraid the princess will no longer be close to her?’

Jiang Xian’s actions made it clear: she wasn’t afraid.

‘The more people who love my daughter, the better,’ she thought. ‘Letting go of possessiveness over one’s children is the first step to preventing postpartum depression.’

Jiang Xian had once asked Noble Princess Consort Rong, “I used to think you doted on Zhao’er, but it seems that’s not even a tenth of how you treat Yongping. Do you just prefer daughters?”

Noble Princess Consort Rong shot her a look and refused to answer.

That night, Xie Che came to Bihua Palace hoping to see his daughter, only to find she wasn’t there. The mighty Emperor huffed, “Yongping looks so much like you. No wonder Noble Princess Consort Rong can’t bear to part with her.”

And so, the mystery was solved.

Little Yongping was like a pocket-sized version of the Pure Consort. On her face, one could see expressions that would never appear on Jiang Xian’s, like when she’d laze about on the couch like a little pancake, or when she was off in her own world, daydreaming. Xie Che found these little expressions absolutely adorable. ‘Having a daughter was a good deal after all.’

With the Great Demon King remaining behind closed doors, the harem returned to its usual slow rhythm.

Over the years, everyone had figured it out: the Emperor was, to put it simply, a single-threaded creature. He would exclusively choose whichever concubine caught his eye. It used to be the Noble Consort; now it was the Pure Consort. If he wasn’t going to Bihua Palace, he wasn’t coming to the harem at all. The Empress, meanwhile, was fair and impartial, never shorting anyone on their food, clothing, or allowance. Since competing was pointless, it was better to just eat, drink, collect their “basic subsistence” pay, and take a shortcut to retirement, saving themselves thirty years of pointless struggle.

This was, in fact, the historical reality for most concubines: check in for the daily roll call, go to the Emperor’s bed if chosen, and simply wait if not.

And what were they waiting for?

To get pregnant, or to live out their days until death.

The former was a happy accident; the latter was an inevitability.

The concubines of the Six Palaces were all content to “lie flat,” which made the “King Juan” feel utterly restless.

Jiang Xian discovered that she had nothing left to compete for!

In the harem, she was the most favored.

Her son’s schedule was packed.

Her daughter still spent her days just blowing bubbles in her nanny’s arms.

Aside from the time she spent with the Emperor, Jiang Xian could only seek out three other women: the Empress, Noble Princess Consort Rong, and Princess Consort Zhang.

Since Jiang Xian had used her modern “work experience” to optimize the management of palace affairs, the Empress’s daily workload had become much lighter than before. This meant the tasks that fell to Jiang Xian were even more trivial. Hearing her complain about having too much free time, the Empress was astonished. “To think someone would complain about having too little to do. I’ve truly seen everything now. Live like this day after day, and a lifetime will pass in a flash. There’s no need to be in such a hurry.”

The thought of “lying flat” until she grew old and died nearly made Jiang Xian faint.

She found no validation from Princess Consort Zhang, either.

“When you have nothing to do, you can play with the cat or chant sutras in the prayer hall.”

Jiang Xian asked, “Princess Consort Zhang, what do you think is the primary duty of a concubine?”

Princess Consort Zhang mused, “To serve the Emperor well.”

“And what about competing for favor? Palace intrigue? No one will fight with me anymore. Lady Xianfei, how about you and I have a little ‘spar’?”

Jiang Xian looked at Lady Xianfei hopefully.

Lady Xianfei was exceedingly polite. “Show our guest out. Please.”

Having been shown out, Jiang Xian had no choice but to set her sights on the Emperor once again.