Closing her eyes in despair, Mingming thought, I’m doomed.
Moments passed. The tyrant didn’t order her dragged out for execution. When she dared to peek through one eye, she saw Wanqian simply gazing at her, expression unreadable, half-lidded eyes thoughtful.
Beside him, Gao Fu frantically gestured at her.
Only then did Mingming realize: the emperor was standing, and she was still sitting.
She scrambled to her feet and tried a bow. Wait—that didn’t feel right. No one had taught her the proper etiquette of “three kneelings, nine prostrations.”
So she copied TV dramas, placing her hands by her sides and curtsying awkwardly, swaying left and right because she didn’t know which side her hands should be on.
Finally, the system took pity: “Left hand for men, right for women.”
Wanqian suddenly let out a short laugh.
Mingming dared not lift her gaze. Puzzled, she lowered her eyes, while Gao Fu, who knew his master well, instantly dropped to his knees, head bowed to the floor.
Mingming hadn’t been afraid at first, but Gao Fu’s terror made her panic. Her knees buckled, and she too knelt down.
Wanqian strode forward. Mingming trembled, but instead of ordering her death, he simply sat at the table.
She risked a glance upward, then scolded herself for her curiosity.
As the saying goes: No zuo, no die.
Not gonna try.
Since the emperor didn’t seem intent on punishing Zelan but had actually sat down, Gao Fu quickly scrambled up to serve him tea.
Wanqian twirled the cup in his hand and asked casually, “No one in your family taught you the rules? How can you see me and not even know how to salute properly?”
Still kneeling, Mingming edged a little closer, quickly rearranging her thoughts. She decided to play the pitiful card.
“I—I mean… this humble concubine is the only illegitimate daughter in the family, always treated coldly. No one ever taught me the proper etiquette. To offend Your Majesty upon first entering the palace—I know I deserve a thousand deaths. I only beg that Your Majesty show mercy…”
Her voice grew more and more aggrieved, as if tears were just about to fall. She remembered Jiang Ruotian mentioning that Wanqian himself had been born illegitimate. Maybe, she thought, he’d feel sympathy.
You must have suffered too, right? We’re in the same boat.
Unfortunately for her, though Wanqian had been born to a concubine, he was the only son. He’d never known the torment of being bullied by legitimate brothers.
In short, he wasn’t buying it.
“Oh? So you know you deserve to die a thousand deaths? Then why beg to live at all?”
Mingming: “…?”
She looked up in shock, mouth hanging open, face full of disbelief. After a moment, her lips quivered. She slumped from stiff-kneed kneeling into a defeated crouch—accepting her fate like a lamb to the slaughter.
That sight piqued Wanqian’s interest. His brows lifted slightly, a smile tugged at his lips—but the smile never reached his eyes. He set the teacup down with a sharp tap, the crisp sound striking straight into the heart.
“You’re a bold one,” Wanqian said, leaning his elbow on the table and resting his head in his hand, staring down at her. His voice was slow, deliberate. “You come before Me with your pitiful act, babbling about being unloved at home. What is it—are you hinting that you want my favor?”
Mingming’s eyes went wide.
My emperor, your comprehension skills are god-tier.
“That’s… not what I meant,” she stammered carefully, trying to defend herself.
Wanqian leaned forward, pinching her chin and forcing her to look up at him. “Then tell me—what is it your father Jiang Wenyuan sent you here to plot?”
Ming Ming looked completely bewildered.
The Wanqian Emperor held his posture for a moment, silently studying her. Then, suddenly, he let go.
“Get up.”
Not going to talk? Fine. If you want to play this act, I’ll play along with you.
He glanced at the sky.
“It’s getting late. Almost time for dinner.”
Gao Fu tried to gauge the emperor’s intentions.
“Then, Your Majesty, shall we return to the palace?”
“No.” The Wanqian Emperor cast another look at Ming Ming. “I find this lady…”
Ming Ming stood, discreetly leaning against the table to ease the numbness in her legs. Meeting the emperor’s gaze, a sudden flash of inspiration struck her, and she blurted out,
“Your concubine is Jiang Zhelan.”
“I know.” The emperor didn’t take the bait, continuing instead, “I find this Lady Lan truly delightful. We’ll dine in her quarters tonight.”
Gao Fu quietly reminded him, “Your Majesty, there’s already a Lady Lan in the palace—the daughter of the Imperial Astronomer, Zhang.”
There was an old joke among the people that in the Wanqian Emperor’s harem, you could find a “talented lady” every three steps.
And it wasn’t much of an exaggeration.
His harem was overflowing; whether they came in through the selection process or were pushed in by court officials, he treated them all the same—each was given the rank of Seventh-Class Talented Lady. And for years, not a single one had been promoted higher.
“Oh? Is that so?” The emperor shot Gao Fu a casual glance and decided without hesitation.
“Then demote that Lady Lan to Palace Woman.”
He looked at Ming Ming with a half-smile, his tone dripping with ambiguity.
“One Lady Lan is enough for me.”
Ming Ming felt a chill run down her spine.
She frantically pinged her system.
“Hey, what rank is a Talented Lady? And a Palace Woman?”
The system answered,
“In this world’s hierarchy, a Talented Lady is Seventh-Class, while a Palace Woman is beneath even the lowest rank—Tenth-Class.”
“You’re screwed. That woman’s going to hate you to death.”
Damn it. This dog emperor is ruthless!
Whatever. Didn’t he just say he’s eating here tonight?
At least the emperor’s meals should be way better than a lowly Talented Lady’s. I wonder what kinds of rare delicacies will be served.
Can’t waste this chance. I haven’t eaten since morning. I need to stuff myself, fuel up for the palace battles ahead!
The system chimed in,
“By the way, if there’s any game meat on the table later, don’t eat it. It’ll count as a violation. Say no to wild game—it starts with you.”
“…What the hell does Earth’s wild game have to do with you aliens?”
Out of the corner of her eye, Ming Ming spotted a bronze mirror on the floor. She bent to pick it up, worrying it might have been damaged.
The system said,
“Why do you think it’s called a bronze mirror? It’s not glass. You just smashed it on the ground and nothing happened. Now you’re scared it’ll break from a light drop?”
“Crap—it’s warped!”
The system: “?”
Holding it up high, Ming Ming stared at her own distorted reflection.
“It’s like a funhouse mirror now,” she said miserably.
“This was the only mirror I could find in this palace.”
The system: “……”
“I can’t admire my beauty anymore.”
The system: “…………”
The Wanqian Emperor turned to see her sulking with the mirror held in her hands. Assuming it was just another trick to grab his attention, he asked,
“What now? The mirror offended you?”
Ming Ming said nothing. She flipped it around and shoved it toward him so he could see the grotesque distortion himself.
The emperor stared silently at his warped reflection, then at Ming Ming’s pitiful little expression.
He asked Gao Fu,
“Have palace mirrors really degraded to the point they warp at the slightest fall?”
Sam Williams On TYMIMA Chapter 152