Waking Up to an Imperial Marriage with My Archenemy - Chapter 3

The book before her, Springtime Tales of the Inner Chambers, didn’t use the real names of Qiao Wan or Luo Fengxin. However, as long as one wasn’t blind, any person could see exactly who the protagonists were based on.

No, seriously—you’re the Emperor, you’re her older brother, and you’re actually reading a smutty fanfic about your own sister and one of your ministers?

Before Qiao Wan could recover from this surreal turn of events, a pale, slender hand reached out in front of her. A fingertip, slightly calloused at the pad, brushed against the back of Qiao Wan’s hand like a dragonfly skimming water as it flipped the page of the erotic novel.

Qiao Wan turned her head in horror. Luo Fengxin—previously the picture of cold, haughty indifference was now leaning in close beside her. Together, they were reading a chronicle of their own supposed “scandalous affairs,” involving all sorts of this, that, and the other. Far from being offended or angry, Luo Fengxin actually looked quite engrossed.

Qiao Wan felt her soul leaving her body. I just took a nap. Has the world gone mad?

Even with her thick skin, she couldn’t maintain a straight face while reading a smutty book about herself in front of a crowd, especially alongside the co-star of said story.

Fine. I admit defeat.

Qiao Wan simply let go, shoving the book into Luo Fengxin’s hands to let her read it alone.

Wait, why did I give it to her? Shouldn’t I have torn the book to shreds in a fit of righteous fury to prove my integrity?

The moment she handed it over, Qiao Wan deeply regretted her poor performance. But since the book was already in Luo Fengxin’s hands, she couldn’t exactly snatch it back just to tear it up again.

Ugh! So frustrating!

“What does Beloved Minister Qiao think?” Luo Jinhe asked warmly.

I think whichever bastard wrote this should be hunted down and beaten to death!

Actually, Qiao Wan had always known that stories about her and Luo Fengxin were circulating among the common folk. Initially, there weren’t many, so she hadn’t cared. But since the end of last year, when Luo Fengxin started seeking her out for dinner every single day, the trend had exploded. New volumes were released monthly; they were in almost every bookstore, and some bolder shopkeepers even displayed them prominently.

What a decline in public morals! Pure depravity! Think of the children!

Every time Qiao Wan passed those shops, she cursed them in her heart. Eventually, to avoid the annoyance, she stopped entering bookstores altogether, sending servants to buy her books instead.

She suspected this was all a conspiracy by Luo Fengxin, a way to make everyone believe Qiao Wan preferred women as revenge for Qiao Wan ruining her previous marriage prospects. She just had no proof.

Facing Luo Jinhe’s question, Qiao Wan remained tight-lipped, using silence as her protest. Luo Jinhe ignored her, laughing as he said, “I personally find it quite interesting. Leping, what do you think?”

Luo Fengxin closed the book and set it aside. Though her voice remained icy, she clearly uttered a soft, “Mm.”

Qiao Wan: “?”

Luo Fengxin, since when did you become so thick-skinned? You’re answering so loftily while looking at smut, anyone who didn’t know better would think the two of you were discussing matters of national security.

Hearing Luo Fengxin’s response, Luo Jinhe laughed even more heartily, clapping his hands. “After reading this, only one thought remains in my mind: Minister Qiao and my third sister are a match made in heaven. Today, I shall simply do a good deed and bestow this marriage upon you.”

Before the words could fully land, Minister Cao Min immediately objected. “The late Emperor passed away barely a month ago. How can you bestow a marriage upon Princess Leping so soon? I beg Your Majesty to reconsider.”

“Oh, don’t be so pedantic.” Luo Jinhe waved his hand, dismissing Consort Cao to the side as he sat up. “According to the rites, the civil and military officials and I must observe mourning for twenty-seven days, during which marriage is forbidden. That month has already passed.”

“Your Majesty knows that isn’t the point.” Cao Min took a step forward, his voice rising. “The one-month ban is for officials and commoners. As the daughter of the late Emperor, Princess Leping must observe mourning for three years!

This act will not only tarnish your reputation and hers, but it will also make us a laughingstock to the surrounding vassal states. If the Sovereign commits such an unfilial act, how can he serve as a model for the people.”

Qiao Wan was surprised by Cao Min’s sudden display of “righteousness.” She had dealt with him many times before; he was the brother-in-law of Empress Dowager Chen. While the old Emperor was alive, he was the king of sycophants, never one to risk his neck for a blunt critique. Now that Luo Jinhe had just taken the throne, he had suddenly transformed into a paragon of moral guidance.

“Enough!” Facing the pressuring Cao Min, Luo Jinhe said displeasedly, “The decree has been issued. How can an Emperor’s word be retracted? Issue the order: select a daughter from the imperial clan to represent Leping at the Imperial Tombs for three years of mourning. Furthermore, command the Office of Astronomy to select an auspicious date. We must handle this wedding with the utmost grandeur!”

“Your Majesty! This is truly improper. Please, rescind the order.” Cao Min neither knelt nor bowed, simply standing his ground before Luo Jinhe.

“And if I refuse?” Luo Jinhe didn’t back down, meeting Cao Min’s gaze head-on. “I wonder if Minister Cao has the courage to follow the examples of the ancients and smash his head against that pillar to protest unto death?”

Naturally, Cao Min lacked the courage to die for his convictions. His face turned ashen and his hands trembled. Qiao Wan didn’t doubt for a second that if Luo Jinhe were still only the Crown Prince, Cao Min would be pointing at his nose and screaming insults.

She watched the scene with cold eyes. Aside from his usual cowardice regarding his own life, Cao Min was playing the part of a “man of integrity” quite well today. But a slippery opportunist like him wouldn’t suddenly turn stubborn against the Emperor without a reason.

Luo Jinhe was acting strange too. Looking at his complexion, he didn’t look truly ill—at least not seriously. Knowing him, unless he was literally unable to crawl out of bed, he wouldn’t skip court.

Moreover, Luo Jinhe was normally gentle and open to advice. In the years she had worked with him, she had never seen him fly into a rage just because a minister said something unpleasant.

Besides, the reason for the marriage was far too frivolous.

Recalling the “news” Cui Yongfu mentioned on the way in that her superior, Censor-in-Chief Jin Yanzhou, had resigned yesterday, a suspicion began to take root in Qiao Wan’s mind.

“Your Majesty.” Seeing the stalemate between her father and the Emperor, Consort Cao gently tugged at Luo Jinhe’s sleeve. Luo Jinhe huffed coldly but stopped berating Cao Min.

Consort Cao then looked at her father and called out softly as well. Having no intention of painting the pillar with his brains, Cao Min took the opportunity to back down and sat back in his chair, silent.

The hall fell into a heavy hush. After a moment, Qiao Wan felt Luo Jinhe’s gaze turn toward her. “Qiao Wan, tell me, are you satisfied with this arrangement?”

Qiao Wan met his eyes and spoke carefully. “This subject believes this matter is indeed somewhat improper. It will certainly damage the reputation of both Your Majesty and the Princess. Furthermore, Her Highness has always disliked me. I fear I may constantly provoke her anger in the future; if I were to affect her health out of rage, it would be my grave sin.”

She stole a glance at Luo Fengxin. The Princess didn’t even twitch an eyebrow, casually sipping her tea as if “reputation” was the furthest thing from her mind.

“Let others judge the merits and faults as they please. I act with a clear conscience,” Luo Jinhe replied. His tone with Qiao Wan was much kinder than it had been with Cao Min. When she mentioned making the Princess angry, he actually chuckled. “Leping has led armies for years; what insults and provocations on the battlefield has she not seen? If you can actually make her sick with anger, I’ll reward you with a thousand taels of gold!”

Qiao Wan lowered her eyes. Luo Jinhe continued, “I know you have great ambitions. Forcing you to leave the court is indeed a bit of a grievance for you. Tell you what, several vassal states like Rongrong and Changhe sent tributes for my coronation. Go with Yongfu in a moment to pick something out. Take whatever you like; take several pieces if you want. Consider it my compensation. Stop being stubborn.”

Every move of the Imperial Family affected the nation, and countless eyes were on Luo Fengxin’s marriage.

This was clearly a state matter, yet Luo Jinhe told her to “stop being stubborn,” as if it were a petty personal quarrel. And did he really not know if she had “great ambitions”? If it weren’t for the sake of helping him take the throne, Qiao Wan would have preferred to find a quiet place to garden and live out her life as a “salted fish”, idle and carefree.

Everything she had seen and heard in the palace today was reeking of oddity.

However, Luo Jinhe’s words confirmed her suspicion. She said no more, bowing deeply.

Luo Jinhe stood up, satisfied, and straightened his sleeves. “Then it is settled. Minister Qiao, go with Yongfu. Leping, walk with me in the garden. You’ve been at the border for years, and I’ve been busy since your return. It’s rare to find half a day of leisure; let us siblings catch up.”

Leaving the Hall of Warm Grace, Qiao Wan followed Cui Yongfu to collect her “reward.” The two young eunuchs who had accompanied him earlier remained glued to his heels. At this rate, they weren’t just subordinates; they were clearly spies sent by Empress Dowager Chen to monitor him.

Luo Jinhe had only just ascended, and these people were already so desperate to control him that they didn’t even bother to hide their insolence. Qiao Wan noted it all but acted oblivious, chatting casually with Cui Yongfu.

Due to the coronation, the tributes from several states were numerous. The Ministry of Rites hadn’t finished the inventory yet, so the items were stored in their warehouse. When the four arrived, the Minister of Rites, Hao Yu, was out, so they were received by the Vice Minister, Zhou Kejong.

After greetings, Cui Yongfu explained their purpose. Zhou Kejong led them to the warehouse entrance and glanced at the two young eunuchs. “The warehouse is a restricted area. Without His Majesty’s specific order, unauthorized personnel are not permitted. Please wait here, sirs.”

The two young eunuchs exchanged looks, clearly hesitant. They didn’t dare disobey the Empress Dowager’s orders, but they couldn’t state that openly.

Cui Yongfu turned to them. “Censor Qiao and I will be out in a moment. Wait here; if anything happens, just give us a shout.”

He stepped inside, with Qiao Wan right behind him. Zhou Kejong followed but left the door open. Seeing that Cui Yongfu remained within their line of sight, the two young eunuchs felt safe enough to wait outside.

The massive warehouse was filled with dozens of large chests. Cui Yongfu casually flipped open a few lids, revealing a dazzling array of treasures. He picked up one, then another, eventually smiling at Zhou Kejong. “Vice Minister Zhou, I don’t recognize half of these rare treasures. Why don’t you introduce them to Censor Qiao so she can pick something she likes? That way, I can report back to His Majesty.”

Zhou Kejong picked up a small box, opened it, and presented the contents. “This is an Agate Dragon-Head Cup from the Kingdom of Manli. Look at the color of the dragon’s head—that isn’t dye. The artisan used the natural colors of the raw stone, carving the entire piece from a single block of agate to create such a lifelike object. It is a masterpiece beyond price!”

Zhou Kejong’s voice was perfectly modulated, loud enough to carry to the doorway. The two eunuchs outside were drawn in by the description. They rarely saw such rarities and began staring intently at the agate cup.

“This is carved with a dragon head; I wouldn’t dare use it.” Qiao Wan took the cup from Zhou Kejong, admired it for a moment, and then put it back.

“Then look at this one.” Zhou Kejong walked a few steps deeper into the warehouse and opened another chest, beckoning Qiao Wan and Cui Yongfu closer.

This chest was filled with various silks and fabrics. Zhou Kejong pulled out a bolt to show them. “This is ‘Mermaid Silk’ from the Kingdom of Changhe. Look at the texture—smooth as silk, thin as a cicada’s wing. There is a legend about this fabric.”

Qiao Wan feigned interest, her peripheral vision fixed on the two monitors outside. Soon, as she expected, Cui Yongfu standing right beside her discreetly pressed something into her hand.

He lowered his voice to a rapid whisper. “After Censor Jin resigned, a flood of memorials came in last night. They are all accusations against you for abusing power and personal gain. The palace has too many eyes for His Majesty to speak with you in detail, so he wrote a secret decree for me to hand to you.”

Qiao Wan took the secret decree. While the two young eunuchs weren’t looking, she turned her back to the door, opened it, and skimmed it rapidly. By the time she finished, Zhou Kejong had just concluded his lecture on the Mermaid Silk.