Jiang Yingli walked with great caution, keeping her head lowered and not daring to look upon the emperor’s face. Estimating that she had reached the center of the hall, she knelt down, placed her hands together before her forehead, and bowed deeply.
“This concubine, having been granted the title of Jieyu, is overjoyed. I have come specifically to thank Your Majesty for your immense grace. May Your Majesty live for ten thousand years.”
Thankfully, she hadn’t misspoken due to nervousness.
Jiang Yingli secretly rejoiced in her heart.
“Come here and grind ink for me.”
The voice that rang out in the hall was as cool and detached as ever, yet it carried an added layer of imperial authority.
Jiang Yingli was taken aback. Was this a good or bad response to her gratitude? Why was she being asked to grind ink right away? She had pondered her words for so long.
Couldn’t he at least offer some comment?
But Jiang Yingli dared not dwell on it further. She quickly rose and walked over, her head still bowed.
Before she could get close, she heard Xiao Chenglan ask her:
“Do you like Zhaohua Palace?”
Jiang Yingli hurriedly nodded. “I like it very much. Everything Your Majesty bestows upon me, I cherish.”
“Look at me when you speak.”
Thinking that Xiao Chenglan suspected her of merely giving a perfunctory reply, Jiang Yingli quickly raised her head. But before she could speak, she was momentarily stunned.
Xiao Chenglan was dressed in a black brocade robe embroidered with golden dragon patterns, his dark hair tied up in a golden crown. A pair of dark eyes gazed calmly at her, his brow already filled with the unique oppressive aura of an emperor.
If not for Xiao Chenglan’s face still being as handsome as before, Jiang Yingli felt she might hardly recognize him.
It had only been half a month since they last met, yet the change was so great.
Realizing that she had been staring at the emperor’s face for too long and was being improper, Jiang Yingli lowered her eyes and answered earnestly, word by word:
“Your Majesty, this concubine truly likes Zhaohua Palace. The crabapple trees outside the palace are beautiful, and the interior decorations are exquisite.”
Xiao Chenglan gave a soft “Hmm,” then asked, “What else?”
What else?
Jiang Yingli was at a loss.
She had rushed over to express her gratitude without taking a careful look around. How could she know what else was in the palace?
Jiang Yingli pursed her lips, racked her brains for a moment, and hesitantly replied, “And… and… the bathing pool is very large.”
As if he hadn’t expected Jiang Yingli, after struggling for so long, to suddenly blurt out such a sentence, Xiao Chenglan’s gaze visibly flickered.
In an instant, Jiang Yingli buried her head deeply, wishing she could crawl into a crack in the ground.
Heavens, what was she saying…
She had constantly reminded herself not to act improperly, yet she had already made a fool of herself just after entering the hall.
Fortunately, Xiao Chenglan didn’t seem to mind and said nothing more.
Just as Jiang Yingli was about to kneel at the corner of the desk diagonally opposite him to grind ink, Xiao Chenglan glanced at her and then lightly tapped the spot beside him with his long, slender fingers.
“Come here, to my side.”
“Oh.” Jiang Yingli, who hadn’t yet bent her knees, quickly straightened them again and took small, hurried steps to stand beside Xiao Chenglan.
The Imperial Throne was spacious, but even with ten thousand times the courage, Jiang Yingli wouldn’t dare sit on it. She prepared to kneel on the soft cushion beside it instead.
Unexpectedly, this time her knees did bend, but before her bottom could touch the cushion, a large hand suddenly grasped her waist and pulled her close.
By the time she realized what was happening, Jiang Yingli was already sitting on the Imperial Throne, half of her body leaning against Xiao Chenglan.
Seeing the majestic dragon pattern on Xiao Chenglan’s chest, Jiang Yingli felt so frightened she grew dizzy.
“Your Majesty, forgive me! This concubine will get up at once.”
She hurriedly tried to pull away, struggling with her hands and feet, but Xiao Chenglan showed no intention of letting go.
With one hand holding a brush and the other gripping Jiang Yingli’s waist, his dark eyes fixed on her, his expression unreadable.
“I was the one who lifted you up. What are you afraid of? Are you afraid of me?”
Jiang Yingli gazed at the Imperial Throne beneath her, feeling as if she were sitting on pins and needles.
But the throne was inanimate, while Xiao Chenglan was very much alive, so she decided to follow his lead. Steadying herself, she sat properly and explained:
"Your Majesty, this is my first time sitting on the Imperial Throne, and I feel a bit nervous."
Seeing Jiang Yingli settle down, Xiao Chenglan gave a soft "hm" of acknowledgment, then added, "This is my first time sitting on it too."
Jiang Yingli was taken aback.
How could the two situations be the same?
But before she could dwell on it further, Xiao Chenglan’s hand reached toward her.
His fingertips, slightly calloused, brushed lightly against her cheek, tickling her and making her blink several times in succession.
"Why have you lost weight?" Xiao Chenglan asked.
Jiang Yingli was torn between wanting to look at him and not daring to meet his gaze, so she fixed her eyes on his chin, wondering how to respond.
Though it had only been half a month since she last saw Xiao Chenglan, that encounter had been brief—he had returned to the residence late at night. She had woken up, groggy, to find herself cradled in his arms, and by daybreak, he was gone again.
Over the past three months, he had been busier than ever. She had vaguely heard rumors outside that the former emperor was gravely ill and that the capital was on the brink of upheaval. Anxious and unsettled, with Xiao Chenglan away, she had worried incessantly, losing sleep and appetite, which explained her slight weight loss.
But she couldn’t very well say outright that she had been terrified he might be killed in the palace coup and that her own fear of death had contributed to it.
Now that Xiao Chenglan was sitting on the Imperial Throne, such words would be highly disrespectful.
After all, it was he who had eliminated everyone else.
"Recently, the plants in the residence have been sprouting spring shoots, and I’ve been busy tending to them, which has been quite tiring," Jiang Yingli fabricated an excuse.
"Oh?" Xiao Chenglan raised an eyebrow. "So busy that you had no time to worry about me?"
Jiang Yingli quickly corrected herself, "I did worry! I worried about Your Majesty every day."
Satisfied, Xiao Chenglan gave a faint smile and pinched the soft flesh of her cheek. "Long time no see, little gardener."
Hearing this address, Jiang Yingli’s face flushed bright red.
Logically, it was an ordinary term of address, but on one occasion, Xiao Chenglan had deliberately called her "little gardener" in dissatisfaction after she had stayed up late tending to plants and disturbed his sleep. Now, hearing it in broad daylight felt embarrassingly intimate.
Xiao Chenglan curled his fingers and gently brushed her flushed cheek, murmuring, "Why is your face so red? Are you warm?"
Annoyed, Jiang Yingli reached for his hand and whispered, "Your Majesty, please don’t tease me."
Seeing her fluttering lashes and bashful cheeks, a flicker of amusement passed through Xiao Chenglan’s eyes, vanishing as quickly as it appeared.
"Alright, sit properly now. I still have official matters to attend to."
Relieved, Jiang Yingli quickly straightened up from Xiao Chenglan’s side and reached for the ink in the inkstone.
Xiao Chenglan, having just ascended the throne, had numerous memorials to review and spent the entire morning buried in paperwork.
Since he hadn’t dismissed her, Jiang Yingli didn’t dare leave without permission. Instead, she sat obediently beside him as she had in the past, occasionally grinding ink and replenishing the supply.
In the afternoon, Xiao Chenglan finally took a rare break from his duties and pushed a scroll of names toward Jiang Yingli.
"This is the list of candidates for the final selection at Xiexiu Pavilion. I’ve already screened it myself. Take a look and make further selections."
So it was the roster for the new emperor’s inaugural selection of consorts.
Why should she look at it? It wasn’t as if she were choosing consorts for herself—what insight could she possibly offer?
Confused but not daring to voice her thoughts, Jiang Yingli took the roster and began examining it carefully.
The first page of the register was filled with names, followed by pages of portraits of the selected maidens. Beside each portrait were a few lines briefly introducing their family background, temperament, and skills.
The variety was dazzling, and every one of them was exceptional.
Even among those crossed out by Xiao Chenglan were noblewomen from prestigious families who excelled in music, chess, calligraphy, and painting.
Jiang Yingli dared not casually eliminate anyone—what man would ever complain about having too many beauties in his harem?
The first rule of survival for a lazy palace consort: Do not be jealous.
Moreover, what if the one she crossed out happened to be someone the Emperor favored? Wouldn’t that be digging her own grave!
"Your Majesty, since so many of these maidens have yet to be seen in person, why not keep them all until the selection day? What if among them is a woman whose beauty deeply captures Your Majesty’s heart?"
Jiang Yingli felt she had spoken with impeccable grace and inwardly marveled at her own cleverness.
Unexpectedly, Xiao Chenglan glanced at her, his tone resolute and tinged with displeasure.
"There isn’t."
Jiang Yingli sensed a hint of his displeasure—was he annoyed by her speaking out of turn?
By urging him to reconsider those he had already eliminated, wasn’t she overstepping and instructing the Emperor on his duties?
It seemed her earlier consideration had been insufficient.
Jiang Yingli quickly admitted her fault: "This concubine spoke out of turn."
She then symbolically crossed out a few names in the register before returning it to Xiao Chenglan.
"This concubine has made her selections. Please review them, Your Majesty."
Xiao Chenglan glanced over it, his expression unreadable, and spoke calmly:
"Are you suggesting that all those remaining should enter the palace for an audience with the Emperor?"
Jiang Yingli smiled. "Yes, since Your Majesty has already screened them, the remaining maidens must meet Your Majesty’s standards in both family background and appearance."
After a long silence, Xiao Chenglan picked up a brush and began marking the register again.
"This one, no."
"This one, no."
"This one, no either."
"…"
Jiang Yingli watched as he crossed out names every few lines, until only a small fraction of the hundreds remained.
After the selection process, how many would be left? Probably fewer than ten!
"Is Your Majesty perhaps eliminating too many?" Jiang Yingli murmured hesitantly.
Xiao Chenglan replied, "Is this selection for me or for you? If I say no, then it’s no."
Jiang Yingli immediately felt uneasy.
She thought Xiao Chenglan’s temper had become somewhat unpredictable today.
Beneath her unease, Jiang Yingli also felt a faint sense of disappointment.
Back in Prince Su’s residence, although Xiao Chenglan had been aloof, his temperament had been relatively mild, and he rarely lost his temper.
Yet in just a short while, the Emperor’s displeasure had surfaced twice.
Could it be that people change instantly upon becoming Emperor?
From now on, serving the Emperor would be like walking alongside a tiger. The peaceful days in that humble residence were gone forever.
Alas.
How troubling indeed.
That evening, Xiao Chenglan went to Sitianjian to meet with his ministers, and she returned early to Zhaohua Hall.
With time to observe carefully, Jiang Yingli suddenly realized that the furnishings in Zhaohua Hall were not merely exquisite—they were outright luxurious.
Moreover, outside the hall was a large, empty flowerbed.
Did this mean that, given the opportunity, she could transplant the peonies, chrysanthemums, and orchids from Prince Su’s residence here?
Those were all carefully cultivated treasures of hers.
The next day, while Xiao Chenglan was viewing the maidens at Xiexiu Pavilion, Jiang Yingli was in Zhaohua Hall praying to the gods.
May the Bodhisattva bless her, and may Xiao Chenglan have discerning taste, selecting only those of good character.
Or, even if some were cunning and malicious, she hoped they wouldn’t be too clever.
If someone wanted to harm her, she could guard against it, but someone too clever was simply impossible to guard against completely.
In the evening, Xiao Chenglan arrived at Zhaohua Palace.