Daily Life of a Villain at Work [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 57

Chapter 57: The Twenty-First Day of the Villain Being Emperor

When Master Chu left the Wenyuan Pavilion, his spirit was in a trance, and he nearly missed a step on the stairs. Fortunately, his health was decent enough to steady himself in time.

But he didn’t care about decorum; after checking in at his office, he rushed home by carriage. He had to tell his wife the news! If all went well, the Chu family was truly about to be elevated by their youngest daughter. With a bit of luck, they could stand tall for at least the next fifty years!

“Is it true?” Madam Chu stared wide-eyed, grabbing her husband’s sleeve. “Xin’er actually served the bed? And wore the python robes?”

“Would I joke about such a thing?” Master Chu’s voice held a trace of excitement. “The Emperor clearly intends for Xin’er to soar! Once she builds up enough merit, being named one of the Three Ducal Ministers or Three Pillars of State is not impossible.”

“Is Xin’er really going to earn me the title of a First-Rank Lady of Honor?” Madam Chu couldn’t help but feel dazed.

Having lived through the massacre during the Emperor’s ascension, Madam Chu had once been in a state of panic when her husband was dismissed. She had even considered preparing poison to avoid the suffering of prison. Now, only five years later, her daughter was sharing the imperial bed, and her husband was a fourth-rank official in the capital again. Even her daughter-in-law was a fifth-rank sub-prefecture governor. It seemed the most successful members of the family were all women.

Thinking of this, Madam Chu looked at her husband with a hint of dissatisfaction. “Xin’er and Shao菡 are so successful. As an elder, how can you fall behind them and become a burden?”

Master Chu, outranked by his own daughter, could only nod submissively.

“By the way,” Madam Chu said, her expression turning serious. “Prince Rong, who hasn’t married for years due to his health, is reportedly feeling better. He’s looking to take a Princess Consort to carry on his bloodline.”

Master Chu frowned. “That shouldn’t have anything to do with us. Prince Rong wouldn’t dare target Xin’er given the Emperor’s favor.”

“He has his eye on the daughter of the Chancellor of the National University (Guozijian Jijiu),” Madam Chu explained. “The Chancellor’s wife told me her daughter is currently studying and aims to be a top female scholar like our Xin’er. They don’t want her marrying into Prince Rong’s household.”

Prince Rong was technically the Emperor’s young uncle, but he was a sickly man with no real power. Master Chu knew the current Emperor had little regard for imperial kin; Prince Rong was likely less important to her than a capable local magistrate.

“I’ll mention it to Xin’er tomorrow,” Master Chu decided. The Chancellor had significant influence; helping his daughter avoid a bad match would be a valuable favor.

…

By August, Chu Xin’s courage and endurance had grown daily. She had transitioned from a trembling mess to a cautiously attentive servant of the Emperor. Wen Qingyun wasn’t entirely satisfied with her excessive caution but was patient, intending to mold her into the perfect companion.

In the Censorate, Chu Xin excelled. With the Emperor backing her, she impeached officials every other day—ranging from land seizures to general incompetence. At first, officials tried to fight back, but once they realized the Emperor stood 100% behind Chu Xin, they learned to “slide-kneel” and admit their faults immediately.

The results of the August provincial exams arrived. Due to the rule prohibiting candidates from visiting brothels for three years, the number of male candidates had noticeably dropped, while female candidates surged. Out of 435 new Jujin (successful candidates), 120 were women. Among them was the scholar from the Court of Judicial Review whom the Emperor had previously spared; true to her word, Wen Qingyun appointed her to a post.

One day, Prince Rong requested an audience.

“I wish to marry the Chancellor’s daughter, Your Majesty,” Prince Rong said, his face pale and sickly. “I admire her talent. If she marries me, I promise not to hinder her studies or her career if she enters the government.”

Wen Qingyun was skeptical. “I must ask the lady herself. I will not play matchmaker against someone’s will.”

She summoned the Chancellor and his daughter. The girl, only eighteen and still in her student robes, was blunt: “I have never met the Prince and have no desire to marry. I wish only to prepare for next year’s exams and serve Your Majesty.”

Wen Qingyun smiled. “It seems I cannot grant this request, Prince Rong. Next time, ensure the lady is willing before seeking an imperial edict.”

After the rejected Prince and the Chancellor left, Wen Qingyun summoned the Commander of the Embroidered Uniform Guard. “Keep a close eye on Prince Rong. Check if his health truly ‘improved’ recently. Monitor everyone who enters his palace.”

“Your Majesty,” the Commander reported, “Prince Rong has recently been rewarding poor scholars who write poetry and stories. Most of them are ‘private runaway’ romances between scholars and noble ladies. Nothing overtly political.”

Wen Qingyun nodded, satisfied with the surveillance.

…

Prince Rong, back in his carriage, was fuming. A lowly scholar had dared to reject a Prince?

“My Lord, why not look at others?” his steward suggested.

Prince Rong didn’t answer. He hadn’t wanted her for her talent; he wanted her father’s influence over the National University students—many of whom were unhappy with the Emperor.

“Fine,” Prince Rong sighed, drinking his medicine. “Spread the word that I am looking for a wife. I don’t care about her family status, as long as she is literate and doesn’t mind my sickly body.”

…

Wen Qingyun turned her focus to the September Autumn Hunt. This wasn’t a casual outing; it was a massive military display near Shenyang and Liaodong, involving nearly ten thousand soldiers in mock combat. It was a show of strength meant for the Tatars on the northern border.

Wen Qingyun brought the Empress Dowager and Chu Xin. She also invited the Princesses; Princess Herui joined with her consort. To give the women of the Mingyue Camp a spotlight, she ordered Xiang to bring twenty of her best soldiers to serve in the imperial escort.

During the hunt, Wen Qingyun displayed her prowess by shooting a stag through the throat from a hundred meters away. As the officials cheered, the hunt began in earnest.

Sitting on a raised platform, Wen Qingyun fed Chu Xin a pastry. “Want to try your hand at it?”

Chu Xin, her mouth full, shook her head. “I’ll stay with Your Majesty. I can’t match their riding skills.”

Reports of kills flooded in: a deer from Wang Yuejiao, a wild boar from a captain, a black bear from a commander.

“Want to go?” Wen Qingyun asked again.

“I can’t even keep up with their horses,” Chu Xin lamented, feeling the lack of muscle on her arms.

Wen Qingyun laughed. “No matter. I’ll go with you. Tell me what you see, and I’ll hunt it for you. You don’t need to envy them.”