The palace servants and guards were terrified. If she really got out and something happened, they’d all lose their heads. What if she tripped? What if she didn’t come back? The entire palace staff wouldn’t be enough to fill the chopping block!
“I understand your pain, fellow workers,” Ming Ming said dramatically. “But unfortunately, I’m currently part of the ruling class. Ever heard of ‘the peasants have stood up’? Never mind, it’s irrelevant.” She slung her little travel bag over her shoulder and waved. “With how the male and female leads are hellbent on mutual destruction, I don’t see a future for myself here. Sorry, I’m quitting. I’m going out to live!”
“Your Ladyship—please don’t go!” the servants cried, clinging to her legs as she tried to walk. There was a loud rip—the hem of her robe tore.
“Her Ladyship’s gown is torn! Quick, bring needle and thread!”
“No, no—she must change clothes immediately!”
“Wait—she can’t leave the palace with torn clothes! Thank heavens!”
Ming Ming scowled. “Hey, that’s too much—”
“Her Ladyship’s indecently dressed?! Guards! Help!”
Ming Ming: “…”
Unbelievable.
So she ended up back in her chambers, changed into new clothes, surrounded by overly vigilant servants who refused to let her out of their sight.
“How about this?” she suggested diplomatically. “We compromise. I go out, and you all come with me.”
The servants exchanged hesitant glances.
Ming Ming pressed on. “We split the team—some stay behind to watch for news of the emperor, the rest follow me outside. The moment there’s word of him returning, we rush back. No one gets blamed.”
She even solemnly added, “If we get caught, I’ll take full responsibility.”
That convinced them. The plan actually sounded workable. Maybe they could sneak out and back without the emperor ever finding out.
After all, she was a royal consort—if she was happy, surely the emperor wouldn’t punish them… right?
—
Ming Ming went out and lived her best life. She hit the city’s busiest taverns and theaters, spending money like water, playing the role of a rich young lady.
Then she heard about a gemstone gambling craze. Being rich, reckless, and terminally curious, she tried her luck—and somehow, she kept winning. Every stone she opened was top quality. She couldn’t even tell what type of jade it was, but the servant beside her eagerly explained until she interrupted him.
“Never mind. I don’t really want to learn about jade,” she said, remembering the emperor’s intimate tendencies.
Even looking at the jade annoyed her.
She waved dismissively. “Here, take them.”
The servant teared up with gratitude.
Ming Ming sighed internally. Man, if I had this kind of luck in real life, I’d have been rich ages ago.
Still, she reminded herself—easy money’s just like those fake “withdraw your reward” popups online. They promise instant cash, and when you actually try, surprise! There’s always a catch.
Never trust sudden fortune. That’s how you stay alive longer.
So spake Mika Ming.
Because honestly, in the real world, if she ever tried gambling on gemstones, she’d probably end up in debt for life.
Cherish your life. Stay away from gambling.
—
Ming Ming partied hard for days, eating, drinking, and shopping without guilt. The emperor had gone far away and wouldn’t be back for weeks. She even bought herself a little mansion in the city, practically settling in. Her attendants were terrified she’d declare, “You know what? I’m staying here. Tell the emperor I’m not coming back!”
Thankfully, she wasn’t that far gone.
While the emperor was away, the palace was peaceful inside and out. Ming Ming eventually missed her favorite sesame flatbreads sold outside the palace gate and had her servants buy them daily. But that wasn’t enough—after a few days, she went straight to the bakery and pestered the old owner into teaching her how to make them.
It… was chaotic.
In the end, they kicked her out.
But Ming Ming didn’t mind—she was convinced she’d learned the essence of it! She packed up ten pounds of flatbreads to take home, proud as could be.
And right as she stepped back into the palace—
The emperor returned.
Ming Ming silently thanked every lucky star. She’d made it back just in time. She glanced around—no loose ends. Perfect.
She shot her attendants a smug look: Behold! Our glorious revolution succeeded!
“Hide my flatbreads,” she whispered. “If anyone asks, say you went out to buy them. Got it?”
Moments later, Emperor Wan Qian arrived. “My beloved, I’ve returned.”
Ming Ming applauded enthusiastically. “Congratulations on your victorious return, Your Majesty!”
The emperor handed her a box. “From now on, the phoenix seal will be yours.”
“Huh? You’re giving it to me?”
“Of course,” he said. “I’ve already decided you’ll be my only empress… Ah, that reminds me. Let’s find an auspicious day to promote you to Imperial Consort first.”
“What about Jiang Ruotian and Jiang Fuling?”
“Oh, them?” The emperor’s tone was light. “I wounded Jiang Ruotian. She might still be breathing. Let her crawl off and die somewhere.”
He’d disliked her for ages—finally had the chance to go after her without restraint. If she survived, good for her.
Ming Ming stared in horror. Great. The grudge between the leads just got bloodier. Are we heading toward an actual war now?
Who should she bet on? Neither seemed reliable!
While she silently panicked, the emperor was studying her closely, a flicker of thought in his eyes. He was still remembering the “honeymoon” they’d barely begun before he left. After so many days apart, he was practically aching for her.
But first, he had another matter to address.
“My beloved,” he said softly, “I heard that while I was away… you spent quite a lot of time outside the palace?”
!!!
Every hair on Ming Ming’s body stood on end.
How does he know?!
She glared suspiciously at the servants around her. Who betrayed the revolution?!
The poor servants all dropped to their knees, trembling.
In truth, no one had betrayed her. They’d all just forgotten one tiny detail—Ming Ming still had the emperor’s secret guards watching her every move.
That very night, when the emperor recovered the phoenix seal, those guards had delivered a confidential report:
“Consort Lan and her attendants conspired to leave the palace—half stayed to provide cover, half accompanied her. She has frequented taverns and theaters in the capital, spent lavishly, purchased estates, and formed a close acquaintance with the baker outside the palace gate. We suspect she intends to steal his secret recipe.”
The emperor: “…”
He would never forget the complex emotions that report stirred in him.
Lucien On ABRWF Chapter 34.1