When Emperor Xuanwu had still been a mere prince, he had once bent over backward to please his unpredictable Imperial Father.
But it was all surface-level. He followed the standard protocol, said all the right things, and never once meant a word. His heart remained untouched, and he never found it tiring.
After ascending the throne and becoming the most exalted man under Heaven, there was even less need for such efforts.
In court or harem, who would dare demand that he lower himself to placate them?
Even someone like Noble Consort Liu, who was prone to her little moods, always knew her place before him. There had never been anyone who truly required him to expend genuine effort to coax them.
Until Yun Shu.
Emperor Xuanwu had exhausted every tactic and sweet word he could think of, falling just short of signing some treaty of national humiliation, all to barely appease this little troublemaker.
Once he finally sent that little ancestor off, he turned his gaze back to the stack of memorials piled before him—every one of them filled with impeachment petitions.
His temper surged.
Seizing his red brush, Emperor Xuanwu scrawled a series of furious imperial remarks in bold, sweeping strokes:
"Impeach, impeach, impeach—do you know nothing else?
When corrupt officials are selling posts worth hundreds of thousands of taels, not one of you manages to uncover it. But a mere fluctuation in grain prices and suddenly you rise in unison? This is how you earn Our silver stipend?
Noted.
Get out!"
As for this last one—if he remembered correctly—hadn't the same official recently begged for leniency on the Crown Prince's behalf?
The Crown Prince sells offices and he pleads for mercy. But when Princess Sheng An works for the people, suddenly he climbs up to the moral high ground and demands she be stripped of her position at the Waterworks Office?
Frankly, the one most deserving of removal was this blind and brainless fool.
Satisfied, Emperor Xuanwu slapped a massive "Get out" across the page, then flung his red brush aside. The irritation still simmered within him.
Just then, the glowing screen that had only just disappeared reappeared before his eyes with a sudden flash.
So soon? Another option already?
He blinked, puzzled over what kind of choice might present itself this time, when unfamiliar lines of text slowly surfaced on the screen:
[You have reached 50 uses of the Beginner Simulation Life Selection System. System maintenance and upgrade will now begin.
Estimated upgrade duration: fifteen days.
During this period, no selection events will be triggered.
Wishing you a pleasant life and continued success.]
Upgrade?
Though Emperor Xuanwu did not quite understand what a "system upgrade" entailed, the context made it clear enough that this was something good.
Even the beginner system had proven so formidable—what heights could it reach after upgrading?
The fatigue and irritation he had accumulated from court matters over the past few days seemed to melt away at this exhilarating news.
In an uplifted mood, Emperor Xuanwu picked up his red brush again and resumed reviewing the memorials left unfinished.
But that joy lasted only a few short days.
The officials who had previously submitted memorials accusing Yun Shu received their responses and stayed quiet for a while. Eventually, they could no longer hold their tongues and once again came forward to offer their counsel.
"Your Majesty, it is not that we insist on targeting Princess Sheng An, but the grain price has now soared to seventeen wen per dou! This far exceeds the normal range of fluctuation. Rumors are already beginning to circulate among the common folk!"
"Rumors?"
Emperor Xuanwu gave a cold chuckle.
"What sort of rumors? Let Us hear them."
"Well…"
The Emperor's stance was plain—he clearly meant to shield Princess Sheng An.
If they were to recite the rumors that the Right Prime Minister's men had privately spread word for word, none of them had the courage for that.
They could only offer a vague summary:
"Roughly speaking, many believe that the skies show no sign of any impending storm. The Princess's dream may have been nothing more than that—a dream. But the grain price, that has risen for real…"
"In short, these are all unfavorable murmurs concerning Her Highness.
If we do not act soon, those who bought grain at inflated prices may begin to cause unrest."
"Indeed, Your Majesty.
If the capital is truly to suffer flooding as foretold in Princess Sheng An's dream—even to the extent that water seeps into the palace itself—then surely there would need to be continuous rainfall for half a month or more.
But it has already been many days since her so-called dream, and yet the skies outside remain clear. There is not a trace of rain to be seen…"
Boom!
As though Heaven itself had been waiting for the perfect moment to slap someone across the face, a deafening crack of thunder split the air before Censor Zhou could finish his sentence.
Emperor Xuanwu's mouth curved upward ever so slightly. His gaze cooled as he turned to the censors standing in his imperial study, their faces stiff and awkward.
He spoke with a quiet mockery: "Clear skies, was it? You said it looks nothing like rain?"
"…Perhaps it was a coincidence."
That thunder had come at the worst possible time.
Censor Zhou forced a strained smile, scrambling to recover: "This time of year, it's not uncommon for sudden showers to appear and vanish just as quickly. It need not necessarily lead to any flooding."
"Is that so?"
Emperor Xuanwu let out a chilly laugh.
"In that case, the few of you may wait under the eaves outside. Once the rain stops, you may leave."
"But…"
One of the more stubborn ones tried to argue, but was quietly tugged by his colleague before he could finish.
In the end, all he could do was bow his head in resignation.
"We take our leave."
Leave?
They had better prepare to bed down under the eaves for the night.
Emperor Xuanwu no longer had any interest in engaging with these obstinate old fools. He calmly returned to his work, unbothered.
Outside, those now punished to wait beneath the eaves were far from content. Finding a quiet corner far from the attending eunuchs and guards, they began muttering in hushed tones:
"His Majesty's favoritism toward Princess Sheng An is becoming increasingly blatant. Even absurd things like dream-predicted rainstorms—he believes them without question! This is madness…"
"Watch your words!"
The most timid among them panicked and raised a finger to his lips.
"Keep your voice down. If His Majesty hears that, do you want to be executed?
To be fair, our luck really was poor this time—running straight into a thunderstorm at just the wrong moment.
Let's just hope the rain stops soon. Otherwise, if it keeps falling, we'll have an even harder time using this issue to impeach the Princess."
"But… what if Princess Sheng An's dream actually proves true?"
People in this era were more prone to believe in such mystical things.
Even many within the court had been half-convinced when Yun Shu first spoke of her dream predicting a torrential flood in the capital.
Including Noble Censor Liu.
It was only because the weather had stayed consistently clear over the past several days that he began to doubt.
But now… the rain had begun to fall.