Chapter 5: The Entire Court is Shocked

"I have decided on this matter, when have I ever changed my mind?" Song Yue casually said, "Tell him to come, I will wait for him in the training grounds."

Li Deshun, considering the Emperor's lack of martial prowess, worried that something might go wrong. He looked up at the slanting sunset and quickly replied, "Your Majesty, you mustn't go. Don't you remember, tonight is the victory banquet?"

The Emperor had promised to host a three-day feast in the palace to celebrate the successful conquest of the capital of Chu...

Finally, Song Yue remembered the matter, furrowing her brows a little as she felt the strain of the three-day banquet. Thinking of the depleted national treasury, she straightened her back, flicked her sleeve, and said, "Three days of celebration is too long... Conquering Chu is nothing to be overly joyous about, after all, I have more ambitious goals. There's no need for a grand celebration; a simple banquet tonight will be enough."

Following the Emperor's will, the banquet that evening was kept simple.

Song Yue sat bored on the high dragon throne, holding a wine cup in one hand, her gaze seemingly indifferent as she glanced over the various fruits and snacks before her. Her other hand idly tapped the golden armrest of the chair. The ministers below couldn't, for the first time, guess what their emperor was thinking.

In the past, whenever the Emperor had something on his mind, it would show on his face, but after returning from the campaign, there was no sign of joy or anger on his expression—could it be that the Emperor's mind was elsewhere, thinking about alchemy matters?

The ministers exchanged looks, but none found an answer in the others' eyes.

In the midst of their guesses, the reality was completely different from what they imagined—Song Yue's entire mind and body were focused on the golden dragon throne to her left.

Song Yue: Is it made of pure gold?

[Obviously! Look at your hungry, eager gaze... Are you thinking of selling the throne too?]

Song Yue: Am I that kind of person? I'm just reminded of Xuan Sibei after going through something like that.

When I first crossed over, I was lying on a chair like this, and even got stabbed in the chest with a dagger as I was poisoned... If I say I have no psychological trauma, no one would believe me.

[Then why didn't you feel the same when you were looking for Xuan Sibei in Yingdu? Didn't seem afraid at all!]

Song Yue: At that time, his features hadn't fully developed, and he had such a pure, harmless look. How could I associate him with that **OSS... But now I think about it... It was a scam!

Although by ancient standards, he was already an adult, to me, accustomed to the ageless old monsters of the Time Management Bureau, he still seemed like a child.

Under twenty, posing as a harmless little beggar in front of others, yet secretly a powerful figure with a mysterious, criminal underground organization. If I hadn't noticed someone following me later, I might've actually believed he was just a poor, homeless child!

[Host, maybe you should reflect on yourself, smile.jpg]

[Host, at under twenty, posing as a harmless widow in front of others, secretly the Emperor of Yan! Wait till Xuan Sibei realizes his enemy is right in front of him, hehe...]

Song Yue: ...falls into deep thought

Thinking about it this way, it seems like she and he are the same kind of species...

Forget it, forget it. This round is a draw; neither of them owes the other anything. Once she becomes his godmother, she'll deal with it. Once the banquet is over, following Ji Wuchao's usual style, tomorrow she'll be back to her regular life in the alchemy room—alchemy isn't something that can be done in just a few days or nights. Then, she'll easily slip out of the palace, first snatch up her godson, and then figure out a way to solve the money problem.

With her decision made, Song Yue casually picked up a piece of osmanthus cake and put it in her mouth, all the while observing the others at the banquet with a composed expression, matching their faces to those she remembered.

The man on the right with a small mustache and a square face appeared honest and upright, but in reality, he was a con artist from the underworld and the Emperor's most favored minister, known as Master Wu. It was he who daily encouraged Ji Wuchao to engage in alchemy.

Next to him was the commander of the Imperial Guard, Mo Qingqiu. Contrary to what one might expect from a burly warrior with thick brows and big eyes, his face was quite delicate. His movements and demeanor gave her the impression of a protagonist in a TV show, proper and upright in every gesture.

What was a bit disappointing, however, was that her royal uncle hadn't come. She had all these power schemes in mind but had no place to apply them.

"Gentlemen, come, drink!" Song Yue raised her cup, resting her head on her hand, appearing relaxed.

[How is this any different from the usual Ji Wuchao? There's no imperial aura at all… Why did I end up with such a lowly host…]

Song Yue: You don't understand the strategy. In most time-travel novels, when a traveler's behavior drastically differs from the original, they're often seen as possessed by a monster and are burned alive at the market, not surviving more than three episodes. But someone like me, who keeps a low profile, can make it all the way to the finale.

[...]

The ministers below exchanged a few flattering words, seemingly accustomed to the Emperor's lack of ambition and his love for grandiose gestures. Li Deshun, standing beside her, took the opportunity to look at her with some concern while pouring wine, clearly wanting to offer advice but hesitant to speak.

Song Yue felt a bit overwhelmed. Ji Wuchao was still young, and Li Deshun was the only one who tolerated her, so she couldn't help but vent her frustrations on him. She refused to listen to anything he said. Over time, Li Deshun realized he couldn't change the Emperor's mind, a

nd although he had something to say, he no longer dared to speak.

She tilted her head slightly, making it clear that she was waiting for him to speak. Li Deshun was slightly surprised but quickly reasoned that it was probably the conquest of Yingdu that had lifted the Emperor's spirits, so he didn't dwell on it too much. In a low voice, he said, "I know Your Majesty is in good spirits today, but you should still drink less…"

He knew the young Emperor's drinking capacity well. At the last birthday banquet, after drinking less than a single jar, she had already started causing a drunken commotion. Losing decorum in front of the court was one thing, but later that night, she had tossed and turned, unable to sleep, vomiting, and suffering from a pounding headache. It had taken a serious toll on her body.

Seeing the unconcealed concern in his gaze, Song Yue sighed inwardly. Then, suddenly leaning closer to his ear, she whispered seriously with an air of secrecy, "I know my limits when it comes to drinking, so… I had the servants dilute a few of those wine jars with water."

Li Deshun's expression was indescribable. His eyes widened in shock as he stared at her, momentarily at a loss for words.

After all these years, the Emperor had finally learned to be a little mindful… Truly, a rare sight.

Song Yue felt a mix of emotions.

It wasn't that she couldn't drink; she just wasn't used to such strong liquor. With the brewing techniques of ancient times, the harsh burn of alcohol as it went down was unbearable… So, while preparing for the banquet, she had secretly ordered the servants to add some water to her wine to soften the effect.

It was just a small trick, nothing sophisticated… But why was this eunuch looking at her as if he were an old grandfather watching his grandchild finally grow up—his gaze filled with both sorrow and relief? From Ji Wuchao's memories, Li Deshun had always cared for her, looking after her in every way possible. Perhaps he had long since regarded her as his own child?

That wasn't so bad…

If dramas were anything to go by, the imperial palace was full of treachery, a place where one had to tread carefully at every step, lest a single mistake send them plummeting into an abyss of no return. Having a loyal attendant watching over her wasn't the worst thing that could happen.

She lifted her wine cup, her gaze shifting slowly to her right, where the ever-solemn Commander of the Imperial Guards, Mo Qingqiu, sat. She stared at the refined young man for a moment, absentmindedly rubbing the golden ring on her finger. Just as she was about to step down from the golden platform, a delicate, jewel-adorned foot suddenly extended in front of her.

Huh…?

Had this been Ji Wuchao, she might have tripped over it. But Song Yue had a habit of watching her step, and she was particularly meticulous. She had already spotted the subtle move of this stunning beauty by her side, casting her a fleeting glance. As expected, this favored concubine's gaze frequently drifted toward Mo Qingqiu's seat.

Song Yue instantly understood, a smirk creeping onto her lips as she pressed her foot down hard.

All these concubines, living in an endless palace drama, were far from being innocent flowers. They weren't merely vying for favor—some had their sights set on entirely different objectives. Take this elegant and alluring Consort Shu, for example—she looked down on Ji Wuchao at heart. Her affections, it seemed, were entirely devoted to Mo Qingqiu.

And Ji Wuchao? She had been the perfect target—easy to manipulate, uninterested in her harem, and indifferent to the palace intrigues. Since entering the palace, this Consort Shu had never been slighted, allowed to do as she pleased. She had long since begun treating Ji Wuchao as a fool to be toyed with.

A flash of Ji Wuchao's memories flickered in Song Yue's mind—the same banquet, but this time, Ji Wuchao had already had too much to drink. Her steps unsteady, she had been tripped, falling flat on her face in front of the entire court. The ministers had all laughed at the spectacle. In her drunken stupor, she hadn't even realized who had tripped her. Only the palace attendants nearby had seen it, yet none had dared to whisper a word against Consort Shu. In the end, it had been brushed off as nothing more than a careless accident.

With that thought, Song Yue pressed her foot down even harder. She also channeled a bit of internal energy to bring a natural flush to her cheeks, creating the perfect image of slight intoxication.

"Mo Qingqiu… Ah?" She blinked, feigning confusion, and looked down. "

It seems I've stepped on something. 

Shu Concubine had no time to withdraw her foot. Her face flushed red, then turned pale, especially when she noticed the questioning gazes from the officials—including Mo Qingqiu. At that moment, she dared neither to cry out in pain nor to protest, simply leaning back in her seat, her mind blank.

Ji Wuchao firmly stepped on Shu Concubine's foot, pretending to bend down for a closer look. Rubbing her eyes with a clearly drunken expression, she muttered, "Ah… Concubine, why is your foot stretched out here? You almost made me trip…"

"I… I…" Shu Concubine hadn't expected things to turn out like this and was at a loss for words.

Coming up with a random excuse might have been enough to fool the emperor, but if any of the officials were sharp enough, they had likely already seen through the truth. Her image among them would surely suffer greatly…

Ji Wuchao, however, acted as if she didn't care. Under everyone's gaze, she staggered toward Wu Daxian. "I will drink to your health! You must drink it all—otherwise, it means you look down on me!"

The wine prepared for Wu Daxian was true strong liquor, specially enhanced at Ji Wuchao's command. Wu Daxian had no choice. Even though the burning liquor scorched his throat, he could only gulp it down bitterly and wipe his mouth.

Ji Wuchao smirked slightly, thinking that he would suffer plenty in the future. She took a small sip before turning to Mo Qingqiu. "Commander Mo, I have long heard of your mastery in all eighteen martial arts. How about…"

Mo Qingqiu's face darkened immediately. His fingers, resting on the table, went stiff and white-knuckled as he barely restrained himself from rebuking aloud—was the Emperor really about to humiliate him by making him perform tricks for the officials' amusement? As the Commander of the Imperial Guards, a second-rank official, how could he tolerate such an insult?

"…a friendly spar with me?"

The room fell into sudden silence. As soon as the words left her mouth, countless gazes locked onto Ji Wuchao.

With the emperor's measly martial skills, he actually wanted to spar with Commander Mo in public?

"Why doesn't Li Deshun stop him…" One of the few officials who still cared about her rubbed his temples in frustration, muttering to himself.

Of course, the majority were simply enjoying the spectacle. They had all witnessed Ji Wuchao's conduct as an empress—was she not embarrassed often enough already?

Because everyone was so astonished, even those secretly observing could now boldly turn their attention toward Ji Wuchao without seeming conspicuous. One such observer took a sip from his cup, pondering his master's orders. His movements were light, unnoticed by anyone.

To this day, he still did not understand why his master was so intent on keeping an eye on Ji Wuchao. he was a simple-minded fool—if not for Zhao Wang manipulating things from the shadows, he wouldn't even be able to hold onto him own kingdom. Among the six of them, his master could have assigned him to infiltrate a powerful state like Zhao, yet he was stuck watching Ji Wuchao's ridiculous antics and reporting them back.

While others wrote extensive reports on governance and strategy, his letters were filled with nothing but alchemy and leisure pursuits… Instantly, he ranked the lowest among the six.

Meanwhile, Ji Wuchao fiddled with the ring on her left hand, ignoring the strange looks she was getting, and stared directly at Mo Qingqiu. Taking advantage of her feigned drunkenness, her behavior, though different from before, did not seem particularly odd. "What? You don't dare to spar with me? Are you afraid?"

"The emperor is drunk," Mo Qingqiu replied coolly, turning his gaze away.

Ji Wuchao, using drunkenness as the perfect excuse to act recklessly, clung to his sleeve insistently. "Let me tell you the truth—ever since my last battle, I feel like my left hand has grown incredibly strong, like a kirin's arm! Those ordinary soldiers can't even withstand one of my strikes…"

"Oh?" Mo Qingqiu frowned slightly, a glimmer of curiosity appearing in his eyes.

"Exactly!" Ji Wuchao slammed her fist on the table. "Without a worthy opponent, it's been so boring! And that's when I thought of you… You are highly skilled in martial arts, so you'd be perfect to test how much force I can take."

"Well then…" A trace of hesitation flashed across his delicate features, but Ji Wuchao's words had clearly piqued his interest. "I won't hold back. If Your Majesty cannot withstand it, do not keep it in."

Such an upright man.

A glimmer of satisfaction flashed in Ji Wuchao's eyes, and she slowly smiled. Raising her left hand, the one adorned with the golden ring, she aimed it at Mo Qingqiu's palm. "Go ahead, use your full strength."

"Then forgive me for being impolite!"

Mo Qingqiu's eyes sharpened. He swiftly drew back his palm, gathering his internal energy, then struck forward in a single fluid motion, his attack carrying undeniable force.

The officials collectively sucked in their breaths. The once lively room was now so silent that a pin drop could be heard, all eyes fixed on the impending clash.

"Hah!"

Ji Wuchao shouted with exaggerated vigor, pretending to be fully concentrated. In reality, she was using the ring to absorb all of Mo Qingqiu's internal force. To the onlookers, however, it appeared to be an evenly matched duel between two martial experts!

With the emperor's meager skil

ls, he could actually withstand Mo Qingqiu's attack?

Shocking!