Her Majesty The Empress Has Made Her Debut In The Center Position [Ancient to Modern] - Chapter 38

Yu Cheng’s mind buzzed.

Your Majesty smells so fragrant, she thought, like the melting snow of early spring in the northern frontier, a refreshing, subtle aroma enveloping me. For a moment, she was lost in the sensation. By the time she realized she should pull back, it was too late.

As if testing something, Ji Zhao released her hand and guided it toward her chest.

Yu Cheng’s face flushed crimson. Her trembling fingertips brushed against Ji Zhao’s skin, light and hesitant, as if floating on clouds. She had no idea what to do next, until Ji Zhao hissed softly, shooting her a wounded glare. “Ouch.”

Startled awake from her daze, Yu Cheng tried to withdraw her hand, but Ji Zhao caught her wrist. “You still haven’t answered my question.”

Yu Cheng didn’t dare meet her gaze. “Your Majesty, it hurts.”

“Mm,” Yu Cheng mumbled. “A little, but not too much.”

“Is it this side that’s uncomfortable? Let’s try the other side, then.” Ji Zhao guided Yu Cheng’s hand to a different position. When Yu Cheng kept her eyes downcast, Ji Zhao tilted her head, searching for their gazes to meet. When they finally locked eyes, her smile widened triumphantly. “You’re blushing.”

Yu Cheng’s fingertips twitched. “Your Majesty…”

“You’re so adorable when you’re shy, Yu Cheng!” Ji Zhao exclaimed, her voice rising. She tightened her grip on Yu Cheng’s hand, but her tone turned icy. “Are you this shy when you kiss others?”

Yu Cheng froze. “What?”

Ji Zhao’s fingertips brushed against the pulse in Yu Cheng’s wrist, the skin there growing scalding hot. Her voice was soft. “I never knew General Yu had someone she liked. You’ve even kissed? Why didn’t you bring him back for me to see? Ask me for my blessing?”

Yu Cheng’s expression darkened, her gaze unreadable. She felt as if she were grasping a wisp of cloud—soft, snow-white, slipping through her fingers. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed hard.

Ji Zhao flinched and flung Yu Cheng’s hand away. “Yu Cheng! How dare you!”

Yu Cheng lowered her eyes, staring at her open palm. Her voice was light, but there was no remorse in her tone. “Forgive me, Your Majesty.”

Ji Zhao refused to let it go. “I won’t forgive you.”

Yu Cheng asked, “Then what will Your Majesty do with me?”

Ji Zhao pouted. “I haven’t decided yet. You tell me.”

Yu Cheng said, “No food.”

Ji Zhao frowned. “What if I get sick from hunger?”

Yu Cheng added, “No water.”

Ji Zhao protested again. “What if I get dehydrated?”

Yu Cheng: “…Then what should I do, Your Majesty?”

Ji Zhao frowned, deep in thought for a long moment. Suddenly, her eyes lit up. “How about twenty more lashes?”

Yu Cheng: “Fine.”

Ji Zhao rubbed her hands together. “I’ll apply the ointment for you!”

Yu Cheng: “?”

Ji Zhao, clearly annoyed, snapped, “What are you waiting for? Take off your pants!”

She lunged forward to pull up Yu Cheng’s skirt, but Yu Cheng clung tightly to it. “This… this is improper! Your Majesty! I can do it myself! You… you mustn’t!”

As they struggled, Ji Zhao’s clothes became even more disheveled. Yu Cheng’s eyes darted around, unsure where to look. In a moment of impulse, her palm gently smacked Ji Zhao’s exposed buttock. “Your Majesty!”

The touch was light, but Ji Zhao’s skin reacted violently, flushing crimson in an instant.

Stunned by the bold gesture, Ji Zhao stared at her in disbelief, her lips trembling. Yu Cheng, realizing her mistake, stammered, “No, Your Majesty, please listen to me!”

Ji Zhao sneered. “What’s there to explain?”

She calmly sat back, arms crossed. “Go on, explain.”

Yu Cheng opened her mouth to explain, but her usual tongue-tied clumsiness made her fear any explanation would be dismissed. She simply confessed, “…Your Majesty, you may execute my entire family.”

Ji Zhao laughed in exasperation. “Let me hit you back!”

“Huh?”

Even Ji Zhao thought it would be weird to slap each other’s bottoms in bed. After a moment’s hesitation, she amended, “Then let me touch you back.”

“T-touch where?”

Ji Zhao narrowed her eyes, her expression saying, “You tell me.”

Yu Cheng pursed her lips. She was wearing a strapless dress today, made of so little fabric you could count the pieces on one hand. She was used to it, like wearing shorts at a big-box store—it was just more convenient. Ji Zhao hummed in agreement. “It’s easy to take off from the top too!”

Yu Cheng tugged down the shoulder straps. “Your Majesty…”

Before she could finish, Ji Zhao, who had been watching her undress with keen interest, suddenly burped and collapsed straight onto her. Yu Cheng reacted quickly, wrapping her arms around Ji Zhao’s waist, and heard her mumble faintly, “My head is spinning.”

“Do you want to be held for a while?” Yu Cheng asked softly.

Ji Zhao’s voice was thick with sleepiness as she buried her face against Yu Cheng’s chest and mumbled, “Just hold me.”

Yu Cheng stroked her back. “Your Majesty, you’re getting more spoiled with each drunken episode.”

This wasn’t the first time Your Majesty had gotten drunk in front of her, but last time she had been so obedient, doing everything she was told. When she said it was time to sleep, Your Majesty had lain down fully clothed, staring up with teary, pleading eyes. “I can’t sleep,” she’d whimpered, looking utterly wronged.

What to do when she couldn’t sleep? Tell her stories—tales of the jianghu, of romance and chivalry, of robbing the rich to help the poor, of transcendent, worldly love.

Yu Cheng wasn’t sure how long she’d been holding the Emperor, but it was long enough for the dizziness to pass. When the Emperor said she wanted to take a bath, Yu Cheng stayed seated, listening to the sound of the water gurgling, then stopping. The Emperor emerged, wrapped in a towel, still warm and steamy.

“Can you sleep?” Yu Cheng asked.

Ji Zhao yawned and burrowed under the covers. “I’m so tired my eyes are about to close on their own. Listen, Yu Cheng, if I don’t sleep now, I need to think of how to punish you. I’m your superior, I can’t just…”

She trailed off, already asleep.

Yu Cheng stared at her blankly, then shook her head with a smile, tucking the blanket tightly around her. “Goodnight.”

The wind picked up as night fell, and the moon hid behind dark clouds. Sensing the approaching storm, Yu Cheng closed the windows. Seeing Chen Xingzi and Shen Yican message the dorm group that they’d be back later, she locked her phone and set it on the desk.

Only then did the tips of her fingers begin to burn.

She curled up.

The soft sensation seemed to return, stirring complex emotions. A whirlwind of feelings swept through her mind. Unable to calm down, she shut the door and went to the rooftop.

The rain had already started, falling fast and thick, quickly turning into a downpour.

Raindrops pelted the concrete, splattering across the pavement and quickly soaking a large patch. Standing in the downpour, she felt her mind was still too clear. She evaded the surveillance cameras and flew onto the rooftop, lying back and letting the rain wash over her face.

The cold water seeped into her clothes, but it didn’t extinguish her foolish hopes. Instead, it fueled the small flame burning in her heart, making it burn hotter and brighter. Unshakable images swirled before her eyes, finally forcing her to surrender.

Just this once, she thought. Just this one wild wish.

She gazed at the dark night, the rain streaming across the sky, and murmured, “Goodnight, my Emperor Your Majesty.”

Ji Zhao had a dream.

In the dream, it was Yu Cheng’s eighteenth birthday banquet.

It was the day of The Waking of Insects, when all living things began to stir. Ji Zhao used the pretext of leaving the palace to pray for the people’s welfare as she embarked on her imperial procession to the Great General’s Manor. Upon arrival, she declared, “I have heard of Esteemed Minister Yu’s birthday and have come to offer my congratulations.” Naturally, she was welcomed as the honored guest.

To put her guests at ease, she spoke briefly before retreating to the rear courtyard. There she found the birthday girl sitting alone on a rock formation, idly tossing pebbles into the lotus pond. Even in spring, the pond remained barren and lifeless, mirroring the girl’s own lack of vitality.

Yu Cheng wore ordinary women’s clothing, her goose-yellow collar trimmed with soft fur. Tassels from her hairdo swayed gently, chiming like scattered jade.

Hearing footsteps, Yu Cheng turned and startled, immediately leaping down to bow in apology.

“Don’t be so formal,” Ji Zhao waved her hand. “Why doesn’t it seem like you’re celebrating your birthday today?”

Familiar with Ji Zhao and with no one else around, Yu Cheng relaxed her posture and turned wistfully toward the lotus pond. “The fighting on the northern front has grown fierce. With my mother on the battlefield, this subject has no heart for celebrating.”

Ji Zhao understood immediately. She wanted to offer words of comfort, but Yu Cheng cut her off. “Forgive this subject for dampening Your Majesty’s spirits.”

Ji Zhao glared at her. “Fine. Since you don’t want to dampen my spirits, bring out General Yu’s hidden wine and let me sample it. Today we drink until we’re drunk!”

Yu Cheng’s mother was well-known for her love of wine. Though she only ever took small sips, her cellar was legendary for its vast collection, a fact known throughout the palace and beyond.

And so, they began drinking. Yu Cheng, being a light drinker, sipped cautiously, while Ji Zhao gulped bowl after bowl until she was thoroughly drunk.

She woke up with no memory of what had happened while she was drunk. The head palace maid informed her that Official Yu Cheng was currently kneeling outside the hall, requesting permission from Her Majesty to join the battlefield.

Like a puppet, she got out of bed. The palace maids helped her change, her movements stiffening with each deliberate motion until she could no longer speak. Gripping her collar tightly, she jolted awake with a start.

Gasping for breath, she slowly released her grip. The sounds of the outside world gradually penetrated her ears: “Zhaozhao? Zhaozhao, are you alright?”

Ji Zhao snapped back to reality.

Chen Xingzi sat beside her bed, looking at her with concern. “Did you have a nightmare?”

Ji Zhao hummed in acknowledgment, only then realizing her mouth was dry. She licked her parched lips, her eyes flickering with panic as she searched for Yu Cheng. Noticing her distress, Chen Xingzi said, “Looking for Yu Cheng, aren’t you?”

“I…”

“Our dormitory’s bathroom drain is clogged, so she went next door to bathe.”

Ji Zhao mumbled a dull “oh,” her panic subsiding for the moment. Absently, she asked, “When did you get back?”

“It’s just past five,” Chen Xingzi said, visibly relieved to see Ji Zhao awake. She tilted her chin toward the other side of the room. “Shen Yican’s out cold.”

Ji Zhao asked, “Why aren’t you sleeping?”

Chen Xingzi replied sheepishly, “I stayed up too late and can’t sleep. I figured I’d wait for the cafeteria to open and have breakfast first.”

Ji Zhao nodded thoughtfully.

“Did you guys drink last night?” Chen Xingzi asked, her curiosity piqued now that Ji Zhao was awake. “How much did you drink? Who got drunk?”

Ji Zhao rubbed her temples. “What did Yu Cheng say?”

“If Yu Cheng had said anything, I wouldn’t be asking you!” Chen Xingzi retorted.

“She…”

“It was raining early yesterday morning when we got back. We found Yu Cheng sitting by your bed, completely soaked. Did you get drunk and then she carry you back in the rain?” Chen Xingzi speculated, her imagination running wild. “And then you grabbed her hand and wouldn’t let her go, and you two got all—”

Before anyone could finish speaking, the dormitory door swung open. Yu Cheng stood in the doorway, a basin in hand, her hair loosely gathered in a drying cap. Strands escaped, clinging damply to her neck. Her usually cool and composed face was flushed from the heat, a faint blush spreading across her cheeks.

Noticing Ji Zhao, she hurried over. “You’re awake! When did you wake up?”

“Just a few minutes ago,” Chen Xingzi answered for her. “She woke up from a nightmare and probably has a headache now. Zhaozhao, should I go ask the Staff Manager for some painkillers?”

Ji Zhao nodded. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” Chen Xingzi replied. “I don’t have anything else to do anyway. I’ll check if the cafeteria food is ready while I’m at it.”

After Chen Xingzi left, an awkward silence settled over the room. Ji Zhao waited for Yu Cheng to speak, but when no response came, she hummed in confusion and looked up to find Yu Cheng still frozen in place. “What’s on your mind?”

Yu Cheng snapped out of her daze. “Nothing.” She set the basin on the floor. “What was the nightmare about?”

“Nothing much,” Ji Zhao shook her head. She looked at Yu Cheng, hesitated, then asked, “I didn’t do anything embarrassing while I was drunk, did I? Why do you seem so strange?”

Yu Cheng shook her head.

Ji Zhao: “Talk.”

Yu Cheng: “Nothing. You were very well-behaved.”

Ji Zhao: “Hm?”

Was the word “well-behaved” really meant to describe her? Where did Yu Cheng get the nerve?

Yu Cheng continued: “Mm-hmm. After you got drunk, you were very well-behaved. You took a bath and went straight to bed.”

Ji Zhao: “It was raining when we got back?”

Yu Cheng: “…No.”

Ji Zhao: “Then why did Xingzi say you got rained on?”

Yu Cheng rarely lied, and under Ji Zhao’s relentless questioning, she couldn’t make up a convincing story. She finally admitted: “After you fell asleep, I couldn’t sleep and went out to the balcony to get some fresh air.”

Ji Zhao hummed in acknowledgment, then grew concerned. “What if you get sick?”

Yu Cheng reassured her: “Don’t worry, I’m pretty tough—Ahchoo!—strong—Ahchoo!“

After sneezing repeatedly, Yu Cheng muttered: “My nose feels stuffy.” She backed away. “Stay away, you might catch my cold.”

Ji Zhao: “……”

She texted Chen Xingzi: “By the way, get some cold medicine for me.”

By noon, the trainees’ vlogs from their outings had trickled onto their personal Weibo accounts. Since most had gone out together, other trainees inevitably appeared in the videos, sparking a new round of fan speculation about potential pairings.

Countless pairing fan forums had been created, with many climbing into the top three on the pairing charts. For example, Ji Zhao and Yu Cheng’s “Yuzhao CP” gained over ten thousand fans daily, their forum buzzing with activity like a New Year’s celebration. Fans joked that Yuzhao had so much “sugar” (romantic hints) she needed to take time off just to keep up with it all.

With the fan base steadily growing, the show’s viewership naturally surged, easily securing its position as the platform’s hottest variety program.

At the estate, after the frenzy and relaxation, the remaining seventy-five trainees now felt anxious about the impending second ranking announcement. They fidgeted with their phones, anxiously checking online reviews. Some with weaker nerves crumbled at negative comments, falling into despair.

Fortunately, the production team released a new task, diverting the trainees’ attention.

The production team had set up five small rooms on the lawn behind the stage, each with a table and a box. This game was called “Horror Box.”

The trainees didn’t know what was inside the boxes. They had to reach their hands into the Horror Box within a set time and find ten pearls. The more pearls they found, the more rewards would be given to their fans.

The fun of this game lay in the unknown. The unknown created fear, and the trainees’ reactions were the biggest highlight.

So, after Ji Zhao entered the room blindfolded, the assistant director pleaded at the door, “Please, please, at least act a little scared! Show some fear! Otherwise, we’ll have a hard time editing this later!”

Ji Zhao hummed in acknowledgment. Hearing Yu Cheng sneeze again in the next room, she steadied herself against the Horror Box and raised her voice. “Why is this medicine taking so long to work?”

Before Yu Cheng could respond, Song Jiangjiang’s voice came from the room beyond. “What?! What sword? There’s no sword in this box, is there? Guards! Someone’s trying to assassinate me!”

“I’ll just sleep it off when I get back,” Yu Cheng said. “Don’t worry.”

Ji Zhao snorted. “…Who’s worried about you?”

She was just worried that if Yu Chengsheng got sick, no one would take care of her!

“Trainees, please remove your blindfolds,” the assistant director announced through a megaphone outside the rooms. “This round will last one minute. Remember, no cheating!”

The front of the Horror Box was transparent, revealing lifelike toads, slimy tentacled creatures, and spiny toys that looked like spiders. As the countdown ended, screams erupted from all five rooms.

Upon closer listening, each room’s screams were distinct.

Room A:

Ji Zhao screamed as she reached into the Horror Box, her performance so clumsy it left the audience in awe. They unanimously agreed she should avoid acting roles after debuting—

She started screaming before even touching it! Who are you trying to fool? Moreover, her screams were emotionless, clearly deliberate. Most infuriatingly, after screaming, she looked at the camera: “Is that enough?”

Fans and haters alike fell silent.

Even Follow PD was speechless.

Ji Zhao, however, took their silence as tacit consent. Abandoning all pretense, she reached into the Horror Box and hurled out everything she could. After a moment of groping at the bottom, she retrieved ten beads, gathering them all in her palm.

She placed the beads on the plate on the table. “This is a bonus for my fans. Not a single bead less.”

Follow PD: “……”

Room B:

Yu Cheng outright rejected Follow PD’s suggestion to put on an act.

Her voice was a little hoarse from a cold. “Why act? I’m not afraid of these things in the first place. If you want dramatic effect—” She paused, already reaching into the Horror Box. “This will do just fine.”

Expressionless and methodical, she retrieved the beads one by one, arranging them neatly on the plate.

Clapping her hands, she declared, “The Horror Box is nothing to fear. It’s human hearts that are truly terrifying.”

The production team: “……”

Feeling like we’ve been subtly roasted.

Room C:

Song Jiangjiang was the most cooperative with the production team’s arrangements.

The reason was simple: she was genuinely afraid.

Song Jiangjiang was jumping around, refusing to put her hand in the Horror Box. She even “broke out into a string of curses” at the production team: “Who knows what you capitalists might have put in that box for the sake of ratings? If something bit my delicate hands, could you even take responsibility for that?! Xxxxxxx!”

The last word was censored during broadcast, but fans analyzed her lip movements and claimed she said, “May Everything Entertainment go bankrupt!”

Everything Entertainment was the organizer of Debut! Girls and also served as the management company for the trainees after their debut.

Follow PD urged her, “Time’s almost up. Yuting has already grabbed all her pearls.”

In the end, Song Jiangjiang managed to grab eight pearls. After seeing that the Horror Box only contained some plush toys, she strongly demanded a re-shoot to salvage her image. When the production team politely refused, she cursed again, “Xxxxxxx!”

Room D:

Zhou Yuting was genuinely scared too.

But before coming to the show, their company had trained them in variety show games. They knew the production team wouldn’t put anything truly scary in the Horror Box. After overcoming her mental barrier, she smoothly grabbed all ten pearls.

She gave a thumbs-up to the camera. “I hope you like the gifts!”

Room E:

Shen Yican said the Horror Box was just a warm-up, but she was still half-asleep and couldn’t even open her eyes. She suggested she’d “blow everyone away” with a song instead, so she spent forty seconds singing, then finished the task with a swift twenty-second finale.

Follow PD was left speechless.

No wonder the fans voted these top five—they were all so distinctive.

Ji Zhao thought she could rest after the Horror Box, but as soon as she left the room, she was taken to the Confessional. The Assistant Director gestured for her to sit and asked a few quick questions before saying, “We’re going to play a little game today.”

Ji Zhao: “……”

“Don’t give me that ‘where do you get all these games?’ look!”

Ji Zhao quickly schooled her expression.

Satisfied, the Assistant Director said, “Bring in the prop.”

The prop was small, looking like a blood oxygen monitor. According to the Director, it was called a Lie Detector. You had to put your whole hand in it and answer questions.

Ji Zhao picked up the Lie Detector, looking very suspicious. “It’s not going to bite me, is it?”

“That’s not it. If you lie, it’ll shock you.”

Ji Zhao immediately tossed the lie detector aside. “Does this thing bite?”

“Hey, hey, hey!” The assistant director quickly picked it up. “Don’t worry, the shock isn’t painful. Just tell the truth, and you’ll be fine. Put your hand in and let’s move on to the next part.”

Ji Zhao reluctantly placed her hand in the device, still skeptical.

“What’s your name?” the assistant director asked.

“Ji Zhaozhao,” she replied.

No sooner had the words left her lips than she felt a sudden jolt. It wasn’t painful, but the unexpected shock nearly made her fling the lie detector across the room. The assistant director jumped in surprise. “No way! That’s the correct answer!”

Ji Zhao knew exactly what was going on, but she couldn’t help but grumble, “I told you this thing was busted.”

The assistant director cleared his throat. “Next question!”

He asked, “Out of the seventy-five trainees, who would you most like to collaborate with?”

Who would she most like to collaborate with?

The next question was bound to have an answer that mentioned Yu Cheng. But if she kept answering “Yu Cheng,” wouldn’t everyone think she was deliberately promoting her? They’d said that kind of blatant promotion was unappealing, so she couldn’t answer “Yu Cheng” this time.

Besides, this lie detector didn’t look very professional anyway. As long as she sounded confident, she’d never get shocked.

Ji Zhao answered confidently: “Song Jiangjiang.”

Then she got zapped.

Ji Zhao: “?”

Assistant Director: “Tell the truth, okay?”

Ji Zhao closed her eyes. “Fine, Yu Cheng.”

She made it through safely.

“Who do you think is the prettiest among the seventy-five trainees?”

“Zhou Yuting.”

Zapped again.

“…Yu Cheng.”

Safe again.

“Which trainee do you like the most?”

“……”

The Assistant Director winced, imagining the broadcast fallout. He whispered, “Please be honest with yourself.”

Ji Zhao sat up straight. “Yu Cheng.”

The lie detector remained completely still.

The assistant director: “……”

How am I supposed to develop the fan-made trope “Yu Cheng only loves Ji Zhaozhao, but Ji Zhaozhao loves everyone equally” now?!

After calming down, the assistant director asked, “Fans are very interested in your romantic history. Zhaozhao, have you ever liked someone?”

Ji Zhao was firm. “No!”

Zzzt! A clear electric shock surged through her, leaving Ji Zhao bewildered. Thinking something had gone wrong, she repeated emphatically, “I’ve never liked anyone! If I…”

She raised her hand, feeling wronged. “I’m telling the truth, right?”

“I really have never liked anyone!”

“This lie detector is broken! Smash it!”

“……”