The raging emperor was terrifying.
Somewhere deep in the court, the ministers trembled as His Majesty slammed his palm onto the table, his brows furrowed in pure disbelief.
"How can it be," he thundered, "that my own Empress is rumored to be out of favor—when I haven't even seen her face for weeks?!"
Silence filled the hall. Even the sound of breathing felt forbidden.
"You old fools!" he continued, glaring at the terrified officials. "If my wife refuses to see me because of these ridiculous rumors, then be prepared—your heads will roll tomorrow morning!"
The emperor, Jun Xiang, stormed out, his long robe billowing like an ominous storm cloud. He had been patient—he really had. But since their wedding, his sweet, shy wife had somehow turned into an expert at evading him.
Every visit had an excuse: "I'm sick." "I'm dizzy." "My spirit energy's unstable."
And now, she was farming?
Meanwhile, inside the Empress's residence—
"M-Master! Danger! DANGER! The emperor is on his way here!"
Wan'er froze mid-swing, hoe in hand, surrounded by neat rows of cucumber sprouts.
"WHATTTT?! He's coming now?!"
She tossed the hoe like it was a cursed object and bolted toward her chamber.
"Quick! Prepare a bath!"
"There's no warm water!" Ruan cried.
"Then cold it is!"
A splash later, a shivering Wan'er emerged, half-wet and fully panicked. She threw herself onto the bed in her thin inner robe.
"Powder! On my lips! Hurry!"
Ruan blinked. "Powder? But your face is pale already—like an immortal descended from heaven!"
"Exactly! Sickly beauty—men love that tragic look!"
Before Ruan could respond, the doors burst open.
"Wifey~ your hubby is here," came a low, dangerous voice.
Wan'er froze. Her husband stood at the door, tall and broad-shouldered, with the faintest twitch at the corner of his lips. He looked like a lion who had found his favorite prey.
"H-hubby! I-I'm sorry! I've been… terribly ill lately. Weak knees. Can't even stand."
Jun Xiang narrowed his eyes. He strode closer, each step deliberate.
"Really?" he said softly. "Then why do I smell soil on your hands, dear wife?"
Wan'er looked down. Her hands were still stained from plowing. Curses!
"That's… uh… medicinal mud! For beauty treatment!"
"Beauty treatment," he repeated, lips twitching. "In the middle of a cucumber field?"
Wan'er laughed nervously. "It's… a secret imperial beauty formula?"
Jun Xiang sighed—then suddenly waved his hand.
"Everyone out. Leave us."
Within seconds, every servant within a hundred meters vanished as if swallowed by the air.
The Empress gulped. "H-hubby, I can explain—"
"Explain?" His gaze softened but didn't lose its edge. "You've been avoiding me, turning the palace into a farm, and now there are rumors that you've fallen from favor."
He leaned closer, voice low enough to make her heartbeat stumble.
"Tell me, Wan'er… are you planning to grow vegetables or my patience?"
Wan'er's mind went blank. "I—uh—thought of growing… your respect?"
There was a beat of silence. Then Jun Xiang chuckled, his anger dissolving. "You're truly something."
He brushed a finger against her cheek, noticing how her blush deepened.
"You really were sick?" he asked quietly.
Wan'er nodded quickly. "You were… uhm… a little rough last time for a beginner like me."
The emperor froze mid-motion, his confident smirk faltering. "…Ah."
She turned her face away, puffing her cheeks. "So, it's your fault! My back hurt for three days, and I couldn't even farm properly!"
Jun Xiang blinked, then laughed helplessly. "You're the first empress in history who complains about farming instead of jewelry."
"Jewelry doesn't grow food," she said with a pout.
The emperor smiled faintly, reaching to smooth her hair. "You're impossible."
As the tension faded, Wan'er felt herself relax—until he leaned down again with a teasing smile.
"But still… I must give you punishment for making your husband wait this long."
Her eyes widened. "W-wait—punishment?! What kind?!"
He chuckled lowly. "Dinner with me. Every night. No excuses."
Wan'er exhaled in relief, then blinked. "Oh. That's all?"
"And," he added, a sly glint in his eyes, "a visit to this mysterious 'farm' of yours. I wish to meet these… cucumbers."
Wan'er groaned, throwing a pillow at him. "You're doing this on purpose!"
Jun Xiang caught the pillow easily, laughing. "Of course. You're my wife, after all."
That night, laughter echoed through the Empress's palace for the first time in weeks.
Outside, servants exchanged shocked looks.
"The Emperor… is smiling?"
"The Empress… survived?"
Meanwhile, inside, Wan'er glared at the amused emperor beside her.
"If you trample my radishes tomorrow, I'll exile you to the stables!"
"Understood, dear wife," Jun Xiang said with mock seriousness. "But no promises about your cucumbers."
"YOU—!"
And so began the chaotic love story between a farming Empress and a battle-hardened Emperor—where every argument somehow ended with laughter… and sometimes, cucumbers.