TFRLTOP Chapter 55 Part 1

Chapter 55 – The Tyrant’s Beloved

◎ Your concubine prefers vegetables! ◎

Emperor Wanqian never slept deeply. On most nights, two or three hours was the best he managed. Any small sound nearby, and even that light rest wasn’t real sleep—just a few hours of closing his eyes to conserve energy.

That night, his rest was especially uneasy.

He had never liked sharing a bed with anyone, and now the living body beside him felt like the source of endless noise. Every tiny movement was magnified in the silence of the dark.

And this Lady Lan’s sleeping posture… left much to be desired.

Wanqian began to suspect she was doing it on purpose—some petty revenge, or just a ploy to get his attention. She turned over three times an hour, twice rolling directly toward him. Each time, an elbow or a leg “accidentally” smacked into him.

But when he opened his eyes to glare, there she was—sound asleep, snoring softly, looking perfectly innocent. It seemed she simply thought the bed too narrow and was unconsciously expanding her territory.

The emperor’s expression cooled. He regretted switching sides with her earlier; otherwise, by now, he could have conveniently kicked her off the bed.

He lay on his side, propping his head with a fist, staring at Ming Ming for half an hour until his gaze made her stir uneasily.

She tucked her head under the blanket. Wanqian reached out a finger and poked her nose. Her dainty snores turned into pig-like grunts. He pinched her nostrils shut, forcing her to breathe through her mouth.

So, you keep me awake, but think you get to sleep soundly?

Ming Ming whimpered twice in protest. Then, half-asleep, she suddenly grabbed his wrist. For a heartbeat, the emperor was startled. She hugged his arm to her chest and murmured, “Don’t fly away, roast duck…”

Wanqian: “…”

Clearly a human. But born with the heart of a glutton.

A moment later, a leg landed across him. She finally seemed to find a comfortable position and drifted off again, blanket kicked askew.

Without mercy, Wanqian pried his arm free, shoved her leg aside, and then used his own arms and legs to pin her in place. Only then did he close his eyes for a brief rest before morning court.

At the third quarter of the Yin hour, the emperor opened his eyes. He was fully awake, gaze clear. Chief attendant Gao Fu entered quietly with the palace staff to help the emperor wash and dress. No matter how careful they were, there was always some noise.

Drowsy and irritable, Ming Ming yanked the blanket over her head and tried to go back to sleep.

Wanqian glanced coldly at the lump on the bed, showing no reaction.

Just then, a eunuch carrying a bronze basin slipped. The basin clanged as it hit the stand.

Bang!

In Ming Ming’s ears, it was thunder. She groaned into her blanket, slammed the bed twice with her fist in protest, as though to scold the culprit into silence.

Strangely, the warning worked. The room fell silent again.

Her sleep that night was anything but restful. Dreams tangled her into exhaustion.

In the first half, she chased a glistening, steaming roast duck across hills and valleys. She finally caught it—only for the duck to turn into a giant python, wrapping around her until she couldn’t move.

In the second half, the python disappeared, and she found herself back in her college dorm. After a grueling day of work, she collapsed on her bunk, desperate for sleep—only for her studious roommate to wake early and start washing up, clattering in the small dormitory.

Usually, the disturbed roommates would mutter groggy complaints. Most of the time, it made no difference, but occasionally it would prick the offender’s conscience enough to quiet down.

It seemed today was one of those rar,e merciful mornings.

Ming Ming poked her head out from under the suffocating blanket and happily slid back into deeper sleep.

What she didn’t know was that the moment the eunuch dropped the basin—before she even made her muffled groan—the emperor’s icy glare had already shot across the room.

That eunuch was quietly dragged away. Those who remained were so tense, they hardly dared breathe.

The silence lasted all the way into court.

Wanqian sat on the dragon throne, leaning an elbow on the armrest, tapping his temple with boredom. “What’s the matter, my loyal ministers? Why so quiet today? Did I do something again to displease you all? Come now—speak freely, admonish me.”

No one dared. The officials only bowed their heads lower.

The emperor enjoyed watching them squirm, but after a while, the silence grew dull. “Why do you not speak? Do you think me a tyrant who ignores government, shuns honest counsel, and acts without reason?”

In a rush, the officials dropped to their knees, trembling as they cried, “We would never dare!”

“Never dare? Yesterday, you were all full of fire, so loud I felt I had eight ears and still couldn’t keep up. And today? Today you’re mute as sparrows with their throats slit.”

The words hit like a hammer. All present were reminded of the headless corpses hanging at the palace gates that very morning.

Yesterday, those same men had stood beside them, demanding the emperor refrain from bloodshed, urging him to win the rebels over with kindness.

But Wanqian was not one to be swayed so easily.

“If no one has further admonitions, then today’s court session is adjourned?” He smiled, pretending reasonableness.

No minister dared object.

The emperor rose. Before leaving, he cast a lingering glance at Jiang Wenyuan and said meaningfully, “Minister Jiang, you do raise daughters well.”

Jiang stiffened on the floor, his mind racing to parse the emperor’s words.

After court, Wanqian returned to the imperial study. Half serious, half mocking, he complained, “Gao Fu, did you see them? All those ministers like quails—quiet as can be. They won’t dare make a fuss for a while. But I find it dreadfully dull.”

He tilted his head lazily. “Tell me, how should I find some amusement?”

Gao Fu forced a smile. “If Your Majesty is bored, perhaps summon the guards for a hunt?”

“No. Too hot.”

“Then… a retreat to the summer villa?”

“No. Too far.”

By now, Gao Fu was certain—the emperor already had something in mind.

Sure enough, Wanqian said, “Since the front court has quieted down, let the back palace liven up.” He dropped into a seat at his desk, chin lifted. “Go. Draft an edict.”

—

Ming Ming slept blissfully late into the morning, unaware that the harem had already been thrown into chaos.

Though Wanqian never refused a woman presented to him, every concubine ended up living as a widow in their own quarters. His relationship with the harem was more divided than enemy states on a map.

But last night, the emperor had done the unthinkable: he stayed in Lady Lan’s chambers.

What? Lady Lan?

No, no—not the one they all knew. That poor Lady Lan had merely shared the same name. For that offense, His Majesty demoted her straight to a common maid. She was weeping now, threatening to smash her head against the wall.

How cruel!

And this new Lady Lan—just what kind of sorcery had she used?

“I never thought she had such shameless tricks!” Jiang Fuling nearly tore her silk handkerchief to shreds.

Everyone knew that in the harem, a woman’s life depended on the emperor’s favor. With his affection came promotions in rank, better food, finer clothes—who wouldn’t want to climb higher? Who wanted to spend a lifetime stuck as a lowly seventh-rank concubine, scraping by with next to nothing?

When a woman first entered the palace, she always thought she’d be different. But as time dragged on, most resigned themselves to reality. After all, the emperor showed no interest in anyone.

But now—someone truly different had appeared. Someone who had caught the emperor’s attention and affection. How could jealousy not bloom in people’s hearts?

So, the impatient ones—like Jiang Fuling—banded together and marched straight toward Luoxue Pavilion.

When they arrived, Mingming was bargaining with the palace maids. The sun was already high, the emperor had surely eaten, so why not bring her a proper meal fit for a concubine?