22.Imperial Deals

"You don't look well today. Did you sleep soundly last night?"

At the mention of last night, Qing's body stiffened briefly, but she quickly composed herself, calming her heart. She didn't answer directly, merely nodding. "Thank you, Mother, for your concern."

As a cultivator, sleep was rare for her. Staying awake in meditation was the norm, but Qing wouldn't explain this to Mei Su, who still saw her as the little girl from years past.

"What's Mother reading?"

Qing shifted the topic, dodging further talk of the previous night.

"This?" Mei Su's expression flickered briefly but steadied. She pointed to the book. "Just *The Chronicles of the Virtuous Husband* by Fang Shi."

Her mother's heart still lingered on her father… Qing understood. Mei Su had always aspired to be a wise wife and virtuous mother, as extolled in moral texts, yet she and her father drifted further apart.

Qing didn't grasp her parents' emotional rift, but she knew Mei Su hadn't had an easy time these past years.

Picking up the book, Qing flipped to where Mei Su had paused. The text read: "The innate five elements, the four symbols aligned with the west, belong to the Western White Tiger, a fate of piercing metal, a woman born under the White Tiger star, destined to harm her husband."

"White Tiger?" Qing's eyes lingered on the words, a trace of confusion in her heart.

"You…" Mei Su chuckled, gently taking the book back. "This is for married women. You're a cultivator, reading it is pointless."

"Or have you taken a fancy to some young lord?"

"Mother…"

Teased by the person closest to her, Qing couldn't help but pout girlishly. But at the mention of a young lord, she hesitated.

"What's wrong?"

Mei Su, sharp as ever, caught Qing Jiang's shift. She wasn't just a palace matron; rumors swirling through the capital reached her ears. She knew Qing cared for a certain man.

On this, Mei Su stayed silent, her heart clear as a mirror. She didn't favor Feng Wei's flamboyant nature, but as a mother, she hoped Qing would find a good match.

Cultivation might lead to detachment from worldly desires, but as a mother, she valued her daughter's happiness over immortality.

If Mei Su knew even Li harbored feelings for Feng Wei, her expression would likely darken instantly.

"Nothing."

"Is that so?"

Mei Su paused, holding Qing's fair, jade-like hand, before speaking slowly. "Mother knows you have your troubles, and I'm powerless to help. But at least tell me something, so I can understand."

"…It's about cultivation."

Qing hesitated, her answer evasive yet finally opening up. "I'm lost, yet I feel I've found a way. But I lack the courage to… face it."

Face what?

Face her desires, face… Elder Mu's monstrous, beastly cock!

"Cultivation… Mother doesn't understand much."

Mei Su could only offer comfort. "But I know everything takes time. Success doesn't come overnight, haste won't do, but you can take it slowly."

"Slowly?" Qing murmured.

She stood, bowing to Mei Su in gratitude. "Thank you, Mother, for easing my doubts."

"You silly child!"

Mei Su rose too, lifting Qing and smoothing her hair, adjusting her crown. "We're flesh and blood, no need for such formality."

"You're right, Mother. I'll take my leave." Qing prepared to depart.

As she left Vermilion Pavilion, she glimpsed guards escorting someone toward Golden Lotus Hall, likely for an audience.

Her gaze lingered briefly before withdrawing. Though Emperor Ren's daughter, she shouldn't pry into royal affairs so freely.

The man being summoned, however, was far from calm.

Wally Wang's obese frame stretched his brocade robe, his fleshy face squashing his features together. His tiny, turtle-like eyes no longer dared dart slyly. Head bowed, he followed the guards through the long imperial path, passing numerous checkpoints. Facing the towering, stern guards, he didn't dare overstep.

Despite his bulk, Wally Wang moved swiftly, keeping pace with the guide ahead.

But his heart pounded with unease.

For most, an imperial summons brought nervous excitement. In the past, Wally MESang might have felt cautious respect, but now it was half fear, half racing pulse.

Prince Ren had become Emperor Ren of Bright Hua. It seemed a mere step up, but while there could be countless princes, there was only one emperor, the sole ruler of Bright Hua's vast lands.

Once partners, they were now lord and vassal.

And… his offense against Li. If Li had tattled, Wally Wang couldn't imagine leaving the palace alive.

Molesting a princess…

That was a crime punishable by the execution of nine generations!

For half a month, Wally Wang hadn't slept, torn between obsession and regret, captivated by Li's beauty, yet rueing his lust-driven folly.

He trembled, fearing the fierce guards would swarm him, drag him to the Meridian Gate, and behead him.

When he reached Golden Lotus Hall, Lord Jian Qian glanced at him.

"Lord Jian Qian, a small token, no disrespect meant."

Though terrified, Wally Wang knew etiquette. He forced a smile, pulling a gold ingot from his pocket.

Surprisingly, the usually greedy Lord Jian Qian refused it. "Wally Wang, I can't take this… Emperor Ren has been expecting you!"

Wally Wang's fear deepened, his legs nearly giving out.

Inside Golden Lotus Hall, incense smoke curled upward, lit even in daylight. The white tendrils rose from the bronze burner's edges. The surrounding eunuchs and maids stood motionless, like paper figures.

Only Emperor Ren on the imperial throne rested with closed eyes.

Seeing this dragon-robed figure, Wally Wang's legs shook. He dropped to the ground, prostrating himself. "This commoner greets Your Majesty! Long live Your Majesty, ten thousand years!"

"Wally Wang?" Emperor Ren opened his eyes from his feigned rest, glancing at the quivering man with his head pressed to the floor. A smirk played on his lips.

"You seem very afraid of me!"

"…"

Wally Wang didn't dare speak or answer, only banging his head harder, cold sweat soaking through his clothes.

Time passed, how long, he couldn't tell.

Emperor Ren seemed to tire of toying with him, his tone flattening. "Rise."

At those words, the taut string in Wally Wang's heart snapped loose. He felt his body weaken, drenched in sweat.

"Thank you, Your Majesty!"

He looked up, wiping sweat from his brow with a trembling hand. Li hadn't told Emperor Ren about that incident.

"Why did I summon you?"

Amid his busy reign, Emperor Ren had carved out time for Wally Wang. He hadn't fully replaced the Ministry yet, handling all reports himself. His eyelids drooped, his voice slowing.

"You know."

This exhaustion, built up over time, wore on his body and mind. Yet the power it brought was a honeyed poison, addictive and exhilarating. No wonder diligent emperors of history burned out young.

For now, Emperor Ren reveled in it, immersed in the fatigue.

"Last year's salt trade yielded eighty-nine million taels, customs duties sixty-five million… Before I left, Ming Jiang instructed that this month's profits have already been sent to the treasury."

Wally Wang recited his assets flawlessly, then respectfully pulled a thick ledger from his robe, handing it to a servant to present to Emperor Ren. "This is last year's accounts, profits and losses detailed within. Please review, Your Majesty."

"Since the guild's founding, we've basked in imperial grace and favor. I'm overwhelmed with gratitude, never forgetting Ming Jiang's kindness. From this day, I willingly offer two million taels of the guild's monthly net profit for the imperial mausoleum, temple repairs, and filial mourning funds, starting this year for three years."

Emperor Ren flipped through a few pages, inspecting it. Hearing Wally Wang's words, he couldn't help but smile.

This was a plea for mercy and favor. The mausoleum was long finished; this money wouldn't enter the state treasury but Emperor Ren's personal coffers.

He'd planned to pressure Wally Wang further, but the man proved shrewd. No wonder he'd thrived under Ming Jiang for over twenty years, standing firm as a titan of commerce.

"Very well, I accept your loyalty on behalf of Ming Jiang."

With that, Emperor Ren leaned back on his throne, closing his eyes in feigned rest, silent.