Hustle Queen in the Harem: My Consort Won't Stop Grinding

Chapter 50: Chapter 43: A Job Has Come (Part 2)

All food, clothing, and expenses in the palace were recorded. She had been very careful to replace the spices and rouge originally sent by the Imperial Household. She also feigned an interest in blending fragrances, which gave her cover to "concoct" scents unavailable from the Imperial Household.

She now favored two types of scents. The first, which she used before bed and when attending the Emperor, was a gentle, sweet fragrance with no trace of aggression. It helped calm the nerves and made it easier to fall asleep, which in turn eased her anxiety.

When she was awake, she used a fragrance akin to aged sandalwood. The top notes were rich and aromatic, but the base notes carried a biting spiciness, reminding her that she could never let her guard down.

In the blink of an eye, the lingering aroma of food was swept away by the cold evening wind, vanishing without a trace.

Jiang Xian had also finished changing her clothes.

This time, she didn’t purchase a new Blame Template. This would allow her to observe and analyze the Emperor’s current opinion of her. After all, she couldn’t rely on her predecessors for everything.

Jiang Xian led a retinue of palace attendants to the entrance of Yizhu Pavilion to receive the Emperor.

The Emperor saw her curtsying from afar and raised a hand, calling out, "Dispense with the formalities. It’s cold out... Liang Yuyin!"

Before the Emperor could even finish the name, Chief Liang was already presenting a black fox-fur cloak to Jiang Xian with both hands. Zhenqiu helped her put it on. The moment the cloak was draped over her, it dispelled the snowy chill, proving to be incredibly warm.

’Wow, the company even issues fur coats!’

’We skipped mink and went straight to fox.’

Jiang Xian curtsied in thanks again. "Thank you for your grace, Your Majesty."

The cloak was a man’s overcoat, one made for the Emperor’s personal use, so its ability to ward off the wind and cold was naturally first-rate. However, the Emperor was tall, which made the already-large garment seem a size bigger. Jiang Xian, who was considered tall among the women of the harem, was dwarfed by the massive cloak, making her appear petite.

The Emperor gazed down at her. The woman before him carried herself with elegance, her etiquette flawless. But some things couldn’t be faked. Her jet-black hair was barely pinned up, the ends still dripping with water and dampening her clothes. She looked like a flower on an early spring morning, its petals glistening with dew—at once fresh and lively, yet stirring one’s impulse to protect her.

He stepped off his palanquin and drew her into his arms, walking slowly as he spoke. "Were you about to rest? You didn’t expect me to visit?"

’I really didn’t. I’d just finished dinner, and before that, I’d done two high-intensity workouts. I was drenched in sweat, so I had to rush to bathe, change, and fix my hair so I wouldn’t be all sticky when I received Your Majesty.’

After hearing Jiang Xian’s explanation, the Emperor was puzzled. "The Longevity Festival just ended. You should be resting."

As he spoke, he couldn’t help but recall her dance from the previous night.

’It was breathtaking. But beyond his amazement, it occurred to him that mastering such a dance couldn’t have been easy. He suspected that outside of her required duties—paying respects and attending to him at night—Jiang Xian must have spent all her time practicing. He wondered how many times she must have fallen. He hadn’t seen any bruises on her, but she had probably hidden them with cosmetics. As a man, he didn’t know much about such things, so she had managed to hide it from him.’

Since his beloved concubine was trying to hide it, the Emperor didn’t expose her, but a dull ache spread through his heart.

The reigning Emperor was no foolish despot; he would not let matters of the heart jeopardize his country. His affection for Jiang Xian was nowhere near the point of disrupting the imperial court. But in the harem, a little compassion, a little special treatment, was more than enough.

"If I stop for even two or three days, I’ll get rusty, and picking it up again is even more painful. It’s better to just keep practicing. It’s actually become fun. Besides, I want to surprise Your Majesty again next time."

Jiang Xian looked up at him from within his embrace.

"That sounds just like what my old riding and archery master used to say," the Emperor said with a gentle smile. "It seems to me that my Xian’er has some foundation in martial arts, doesn’t she?"

"When I was little, my parents weren’t very strict and often let me play on my own. I was lucky enough to meet a traveling swordswoman and learned some rudimentary martial arts from her. I just thought it might create a unique effect if I incorporated them into my dancing."

Jiang Xian wove a half-true story.

The late Emperor’s harem had been enormous, and it had included women who could wield blades and brandish spears, chosen for the sake of novelty. As the late Emperor’s son, the Emperor Xie Che harbored a similar, somewhat idealized fascination with so-called "female experts," "swordswomen," and "wanderers of the martial world." In essence, he was the type to want it all.

He wanted a woman to be both valiant and strong, yet also delicate and charming.

’The Emperor was the type of client who would ask for something like "colorful black."’

Jiang Xian knew martial arts, but her first thought upon learning them was to incorporate them into her dancing. This delicate, feminine application of a martial skill perfectly matched the traditional male aesthetic, and it hit all the right notes with the Emperor. "But that’s too arduous. Even an ordinary man can’t bear the hardship of practicing martial arts. My Xian’er... is truly one of a kind."