Chapter 2
Chapter 2
Sure enough, before I had finished gnawing the pork knuckle Consort Shu brought at noon, an imperial order arrived telling me to return to my palace and await His Majesty’s visit.
All that walking back and forth helped digestion. No wonder I never gained weight, no matter how much I ate.
This problem must have been especially thorny. Song Ziming’s face was dark as a storm. Every other time he came to borrow my fortune, he wore the lecherous grin of a man getting something for nothing.
“Feng Chuchu, We—no, I—will ask you once more. Do you truly refuse to bear my child?”
The question was so old that I shook my head like a rattle drum without even thinking.
Song Ziming did not fly into a rage as usual. Instead, he smiled. For some reason, that smile made my heart ache.
“In that case, Noble Consort Feng will preside over this selection and choose an empress to bear my children.”
I had been a fool. I knew our harem had no rules, but I had never imagined it could be this lawless.
Having a noble consort choose the empress—Song Ziming must have thought I was not dying quickly enough.
But the Son of Heaven’s word was law. What could I do except persuade an old acquaintance to take this rotten mess off my hands?
After three years as neighbors, I shared at least some affection with the other ladies. If one of them rose to the top, surely she would not make life hard for me.
Candidate number one was Consort Shu, the Right Chancellor’s impeccably bred daughter. She swallowed a glutinous-rice cake and looked at me as if I were an idiot. “Did I never tell you that my mother was a maid who climbed into my father’s bed? Make me empress, and you may as well announce that His Majesty has no pride.”
“Besides,” she added after a pause, “the empress must dine with His Majesty and never take more than three bites of any dish. Little sister, have mercy on me and all the delicacies under heaven.”
Very well. Candidate one was defeated by food. I watched her wolf down another cake and faithfully recorded the honest reason.
Candidate number two, our formidable heavyweight Consort Jing, was the great general’s legitimate daughter. Wielding a sword with one hand and shaking dice with the other, she asked, “If I become empress, may I still gamble at pai gow?”
Candidate number three, Lady Tao, had excellent prospects. She stroked her little maid’s hand and smiled with delight. “Compared with His Majesty, I much prefer you, sister.”
Candidate number four, our last-resort trump card Lady Li, hugged a huge wine jar and giggled foolishly. “If big sister thinks I can do it, I’ll go.”
I put down my brush in silence. The entire harem contained only these few women, yet together they had managed to cover gluttony, drink, lust, and gambling.
Song Ziming had remarkable taste. Truly remarkable. No wonder he had spent three years squeezing everything he could from me alone.
Xiaoxi, however, was about to leave the palace and still clenched her little fists with fighting spirit. “Your Highness, we should take the position ourselves! You would be empress, Mother of the Realm—apart from His Majesty, no one would outrank you!”
What a smooth slogan. Once upon a time, I had dreamed the same foolish dream. We truly deserved to be mistress and maid; our sweet stupidity ran in perfect harmony.