Waking Up to an Imperial Marriage with My Archenemy - Chapter 4

Just as Qiao Wan had surmised, Jin Yanzhou’s resignation left the position of Censor-in-Chief vacant. As the Deputy Censor-in-Chief and a key supporter of the new Emperor, logic and protocol dictated that Luo Jinhe should promote her to the post.

In the Great Yu Dynasty, the Censorate held immense power, possessing the authority to monitor all capital officials, the military, and local prefectures.

While the rank of Censor-in-Chief was technically lower than that of the Ministers of the various departments—and certainly couldn’t compare to the Grand Minister of Works or the Grand Minister of Education—the stance of the person leading the Censorate had a profound impact on the political landscape. Consequently, the Chen family would never allow Qiao Wan to occupy that seat.

Following his ascension, the Chens’ desire to control Luo Jinhe necessitated clipping his wings. Qiao Wan, with her relatively low rank and status as a core member of the former Crown Prince’s faction, was the perfect target to make an example of.

“Sudden disasters, daily scapegoating, is there anyone more pitiful than me?” Qiao Wan lamented inwardly.

If these people truly wanted to target her, they wouldn’t have submitted their memorials a day early; they would have launched a surprise attack during the morning court session to catch Luo Jinhe off guard.

Their current approach was clearly intended to use her to test Luo Jinhe’s boundaries. She was just a weak, pitiful, and helpless bystander caught in the crossfire—totally innocent.

“As the saying goes,” Xiao Bai recited, swaying its head like a scholar, “‘When Heaven is about to confer a great responsibility on a person, it must first suffer their heart and will, toil their muscles and bones.'”

“What ‘great responsibility’? Can I send it back?” Speaking of this reminded Qiao Wan of Xiao Bai’s “excellent” work. “If you had sent me away the day before yesterday, they wouldn’t have found me, and this whole mess would be over, wouldn’t it?”

Xiao Bai had no comeback for that. From any angle, it was in the wrong, so it quickly changed the subject. “Ahem, things aren’t so bad now. Look, you’re marrying the Princess, it saves your life and makes it easier to complete the mission.

It’s killing two birds with one stone!”

Qiao Wan: “Ha!”

It had to be said that Luo Jinhe’s move to bestow this marriage seemed reckless, but it was actually a brilliant tactical strike. By using Cao Min’s own words and a ridiculous pretext, he signaled his stance to the Empress Dowager: I can give you the official positions, but if you want to take the lives of my people, there’s no way. He would rather sacrifice the Imperial Family’s reputation than allow such a thing.

She understood the logic, but the thought of her spouse being Luo Fengxin made her head ache.

Luo Jinhe had many ways to protect her, yet he chose this specific one. For the sake of the task entrusted to her in the secret decree, he forced this marriage on her despite knowing she had offended Luo Fengxin more times than she could count. He was practically throwing her into the tiger’s den.

Thinking of the secret decree made her feel even worse.

The content of that decree was an idea she herself had given Luo Jinhe when he asked for her counsel before his coronation. Her intention was for him to arrange for someone else to do it in the future, but Luo Jinhe had turned around and shoved the burden right back onto her.

She only had herself to blame for that moment of soft-heartedness. She had been worried about leaving him in a lurch, but if she had known this would happen, she wouldn’t have said a word.

I played myself!

“Does Censor Qiao wish to see anything else?” Zhou Kejong reminded her, seeing that she had been silent for some time.

Qiao Wan tucked the secret decree into her sleeve, felt the bolt of Mermaid Silk in Zhou Kejong’s hands, then bent over to inspect the rest of the chest. She stood up and said, “This Mermaid Silk is indeed beautiful. I’ll take this chest.”

Zhou Kejong had been putting on a show for ages to successfully cover Cui Yongfu’s delivery of the secret decree. He had just breathed a sigh of relief when Qiao Wan’s outrageous demand sent his heart racing again.

He could hardly believe his ears. “Censor Qiao, you want the entire chest?”

Mermaid Silk was not as precious as the Agate Cup, but it was still a rare treasure. A single bolt could be traded for twenty taels of gold. A chest contained twenty bolts—enough for Qiao Wan to buy a magnificent mansion in the capital and staff it with a small army of servants.

Qiao Wan nodded decisively. Luo Jinhe was screwing her over so hard that if he weren’t such a pitiful excuse for an Emperor right now, she would have demanded two hundred bolts, let alone twenty.

Although the Emperor had said she could pick whatever she liked from the tributes, such a massive reward made Zhou Kejong hesitate.

He looked at Cui Yongfu, who gave him a pained wince and a wink. Our Majesty needs something from her right now; even if it hurts the treasury, we have to give it!

Having received the hint, Zhou Kejong shook his head helplessly. “You really have a bold mouth! The raw materials for Mermaid Silk are rare and the process is complex; it takes the Kingdom of Changhe three years to accumulate one chest to send. Back then, even the late Emperor’s favorite, Consort Lyu, only received two bolts a year. You, on the other hand, open your mouth and take the whole lot.”

“This is my ‘hush money,’ Vice Minister Zhou. Please have some pity on a poor, unfortunate soul like me.” Qiao Wan put on a tragic face, dabbing at her eyes with her sleeve to wipe away non-existent tears.

She was born with “smiling eyes” and a very likable face. She was usually cordial to everyone and well-liked in the court; aside from the Chen faction, both the neutrals and Luo Jinhe’s supporters were on good terms with her.

Zhou Kejong was charmed into a laugh. “Getting a reward this huge and still calling yourself pitiful? You’ve got some nerve! Fine, fine. I’ll have someone carry this chest to your manor in a moment.”

Regardless, these items didn’t belong to him, so it wasn’t his place to feel the sting. As for whether the man on the Dragon Throne felt the sting, that wasn’t his concern.

Having fleeced Luo Jinhe, Qiao Wan felt a bit better.

Exiting the Ministry of Rites, she strolled along the palace walls toward the exit. Normally at this hour, she would be working at the Censorate. She remembered how hard it had been to adjust to waking up at 3:00 AM when she first became an official. After three years, she had finally gotten used to it, and now that she was suddenly idle, she felt a bit out of place.

As she rounded the Hall of Supreme Essence, she spotted a familiar figure standing guard at the main palace gate.

The man was named Zheng Wei, the son of Zheng Baorong, the Duke of Ning. His ancestors had enjoyed great glory during the reign of the dynasty’s founder, but by his grandfather’s generation, the family was already in decline. In his father’s generation, none of the brothers amounted to anything.

After the old Duke died, Zheng Baorong inherited the title as the eldest son and coasted through a dead-end job in the court until Zheng Wei married the niece of Empress Dowager Chen. Only then did the Zheng family’s fortunes turn.

Zheng Wei had been promoted to Commander of the Imperial Guard earlier this year, and his brother, Zheng Yi, was the current Vice Minister of War. If nothing went wrong, the Chen family would push his brother into the position of Minister of War next year.

Zheng Wei was a lecherous man who climbed the ranks through women, yet he still dared to bully men and prey on women everywhere.

As for the Empress Dowager’s niece, she was likely nothing more than a political bond in the eyes of the Chen family. No matter how much Zheng Wei fooled around outside, the Chens never bothered to intervene.

Qiao Wan didn’t know what sin she had committed to attract such a person. The man already had eight concubines at home, yet he was always trying to make a move on her.

In the past, Qiao Wan would take the long way around to avoid him and minimize trouble. But today.

She ascended the steps at the side of the Hall of Supreme Essence, beckoned to a palace maid on duty, and whispered a few instructions. The maid looked puzzled after hearing her request, but followed them nonetheless.

Qiao Wan stood her ground and waited for a while. Estimating that the maid was about to return, she began sauntering toward the palace gates.

“Censor Qiao, leaving so early today?” As Qiao Wan approached, Zheng Wei sidled up to her with a greasy, lecherous grin. At this moment, Luo Jinhe’s imperial decree had not yet been officially broadcast, so he was still unaware of Qiao Wan’s betrothal.

Qiao Wan didn’t bother answering. Instead, she flashed him a brilliant smile. “Has Commander Zheng been well lately?”
Zheng Wei felt his bones go weak under her gaze. He had been eyeing Qiao Wan for over two years but had never managed to get his hands on her. The more unattainable she was, the more he craved her; the more he craved her, the more

he found every tilt of her head and every flicker of a smile utterly bewitching.

He knew about the flurry of memorials filed against her last night. Seeing Qiao Wan leaving the palace now and refusing to answer his question about her early departure, he assumed she had already been stripped of her office.

Usually, Qiao Wan never took the initiative to greet him. Seeing her act so tender today, he figured that without the protection of that pretty-boy Emperor, the little beauty was panicking and looking for a new patron namely, him.

“My heart has been out of sorts lately, so full of gloom! Does Censor Qiao have the time to join me for a few drinks and a heart-to-heart?” Filthy thoughts swirled in Zheng Wei’s mind as his eyes wandered shamelessly over her. If they weren’t still within the palace grounds, he wouldn’t have been able to resist reaching out to grab her waist.

“Oh my, what a coincidence!” Qiao Wan giggled, covering her mouth. “I knew you must have been feeling gloomy lately, Commander Zheng, so I prepared a special gift for you. It’s nothing rare or precious—just a common, inexpensive plaything but it suits you perfectly.”

“I love common, inexpensive playthings!” Zheng Wei was overjoyed. A “common plaything” from Qiao Wan surely meant a personal trinket, a handkerchief, or perhaps a sachet she had embroidered herself—something intimate. Since she was being so “sensible” today, he definitely had a chance!

Seeing her just smile without speaking, his heart itched with desperate anticipation. “Where is it?”

“Don’t be in such a rush, Commander. It’s coming right now.” Just as Qiao Wan finished speaking, the maid she had sent away returned, carrying a large lotus leaf.

Zheng Wei froze at the sight of the leaf. Qiao Wan took it from the maid and turned to him. “I noticed the weather has been quite unpredictable lately. I specifically sent someone to Mirror Lake in the Imperial Garden to pluck the largest, greenest lotus leaf just so you could wear it on your head, Commander Zheng, to shield you from the wind and rain.”

Qiao Wan exaggerated the words “largest” and “greenest” with pointed emphasis. Aside from her and Zheng Wei, several Imperial Guards were standing at the gate; a few of them couldn’t hold back and let out audible snorts of laughter.

Zheng Wei frequently abducted women and cuckolded others, but as it turned out, his own legal wife—the Empress Dowager’s dear niece had presented him with a massive “Green Hat” (a Chinese idiom for being cuckolded). Even worse, the adulterer was his own biological father!

With his father on one side and the Empress Dowager’s niece on the other, Zheng Wei couldn’t kill either of them. He could only silence the maid who had walked in on the scandal.

Yet, the secret had leaked anyway. Within a month, it had become the talk of the capital. People only refrained from mocking him to his face out of fear of the Zheng and Chen families’ power.

Now, not only was Qiao Wan saying it to his face, but she was also using a literal green leaf to mock him. He was livid.

“You!” Zheng Wei reached out to grab her, but Qiao Wan was ready. She nimbly dodged the move and backed away toward the palace exit, that fox-like smile still fixed on her face. “Oh, didn’t you know, Commander? I’m no longer a Censor. His Majesty has just issued a decree marrying me to Princess Leping. If you lay a finger on me, you’re insulting the Princess herself. I suggest you think very carefully.”

“A woman who’s lost her power? I’m not afraid of her!” Zheng Wei blustered, but he hesitated in his tracks. In that brief pause, Qiao Wan had already slipped out of the gate and vanished into the distance.

“What are you laughing at?” Having lost face, Zheng Wei vented his fury on his subordinates, slapping and kicking them. Just as he was about to continue his tantrum, a hand suddenly tapped him on the shoulder from behind.

“What now?” Zheng Wei turned around irritably, only to find the “Rakshasa Princess”—the woman rumored to strike terror into the hearts of the sixteen nomadic tribes of the north standing right before him. The person who had tapped him was a servant by her side.

“Greetings, Your Highness.” The guards bowed in unison.

Having just been threatened by Qiao Wan using Luo Fengxin’s name, Zheng Wei felt even more disgruntled seeing the woman herself. He begrudgingly bowed and cupped his hands. “This humble servant greets the Princess.”

“Commander Zheng, your shift seems rather lively.” Luo Fengxin idly toyed with an object in her hand. Zheng Wei realized with a jolt that his own sidearm had been snatched away without him even noticing.

“The late Emperor promoted you to Commander so you could guard the safety of the Imperial City. You didn’t even notice your own blade being taken. If I were an assassin, your head would be rolling on the ground by now,” Luo Fengxin said coldly. “If you cannot protect yourself, how do you intend to protect the Emperor and the Empress Dowager?”

Zheng Wei cursed eighteen generations of Luo Fengxin’s ancestors in his head, but he couldn’t argue with the fact that his negligence had cost him his sword. He swallowed his pride. “The Princess’s lecture is well-taken.”

“Good that you know your error. Take it.” Luo Fengxin held out the sword. Zheng Wei reached for it and gripped the scabbard, but Luo Fengxin didn’t let go.

He looked up at her in shock. Luo Fengxin stared back calmly, her stance making it clear she wasn’t going to release it easily.

Zheng Wei realized she was intentionally making things difficult for him. But what could he do? He was a grown man and the Commander of the Imperial Guard, if word got out that he was weaker than a woman, where would he hide his face?

Caught in a trap of his own making, he poured all his strength into trying to wrench the sword away. But no matter how hard he pulled, the blade remained motionless, held firmly in Luo Fengxin’s grasp. His face turned beet-red from the exertion, while Luo Fengxin didn’t even seem to be breathing hard.

I have to get this sword back today, no matter what! That was the only thought in Zheng Wei’s head. He had already been publicly humiliated by Qiao Wan; he couldn’t afford to lose face in front of his men again.

Luo Fengxin watched him struggle. The corners of her mouth curled slightly, and she suddenly let go. Zheng Wei, who had been pulling with everything he had, couldn’t compensate for the sudden loss of resistance. He stumbled back several steps, unable to regain his balance, and finally fell flat on his backside, landing with a heavy thud.