On the thirteenth day of the first lunar month, as per tradition, it was the Imperial Handwriting Blessing Day.
On this day, the Emperor would take up his brush to personally write the Imperial Blessing Note.
Afterward, these would be bestowed upon the princes and nobles, who, of course, would each hold them with utmost respect and gratitude.
A wu listened and couldn’t help but feel sympathetic.
“Then how many blessing notes do you have to write? Wouldn’t your hand ache terribly?”
Emperor Jingxi tidied his coronet and robes in front of the bronze mirror and replied, “You get used to it. Do you think being the Emperor is so easy?”
A wu: “……..”
‘I used to think being the Emperor just meant being awe-inspiring.’
Now that Emperor Jingxi often stayed with her, every time she watched him, she naturally realized that being the Emperor was no easy task—it was a life full of hardship.
Emperor Jingxi glanced at her calmly.
“If a fisherman can’t catch fish, his whole family goes hungry.”
A wu: “If an Emperor fails as an Emperor, the whole world suffers?”
Emperor Jingxi: “Exactly.”
He smiled faintly and said, “So every Imperial Edict I issue is carefully considered and weighed again and again. I never dare to slack off.”
A wu, however, thought of many things—such as her own father, who was originally a scholar, but because of the Maritime Bandits case, was implicated and could no longer take the Imperial Examinations.
Emperor Jingxi looked at her reflection in the bronze mirror and asked, “What are you thinking about?”
A wu was startled and told him about it.
Emperor Jingxi pondered for a moment.
“As for your father, he may have been wronged, but as far as the Chief Judge of that case is concerned, there was no fault.”
A wu looked at him, puzzled.
Emperor Jingxi explained, “During the late Emperor’s reign, nobles from the defeated Foreign Island Nations led warriors and Ronin to the Eastern Sea coast, smuggling and robbing, becoming part of what we now call Maritime Bandits. These Maritime Bandits colluded with Inland Bandits, constantly harassing the coastal areas and robbing merchant ships. The late Emperor, to protect the coastal people and to prevent the residents from colluding with the bandits, issued the Imperial Sea Ban.”
Originally, it was well-intentioned, but it made fishing and sea trade difficult, causing many coastal people who depended on the sea to lose their livelihoods.
Driven by desperation, they violated the ban to smuggle goods and even began to work with Maritime Bandits, using local residents to bring the contraband into Great Hui for huge profits.
Among the coastal residents, almost everyone was involved to some extent.
Over time, it became customary: when they met government troops, they called it fishing; when they met Foreign Tribes, they acted as bandits together.
After Emperor Jingxi took over the government, he changed the coastal policy and lifted the sea ban, allowing normal maritime trade.
But even so, there were still many gray areas.
To cut off the Maritime Bandits’ escape completely, he sent Imperial Envoys to investigate strictly.
Many coastal residents were implicated, but considering the circumstances, they were not punished—only those involved had their academic titles revoked.
For most, this was not a big deal, and they were grateful to have escaped disaster.
But A wu’s father had already passed the Xiucai exam.
For him, this meant the end of his path in the Imperial Examinations; he could never attain fame again, and so he was heartbroken and had no choice but to take up maritime trade.
At the time, A wu was only seven or eight years old and didn’t know the details.
Now, hearing Emperor Jingxi explain it all, she suddenly understood and had nothing left to complain about.
But…………she still couldn’t quite accept it and felt she was just unlucky.
Emperor Jingxi asked, “How old is your father, and in which year did he become a Xiucai?”
A wu replied, “Father is thirty-eight this year. He passed the Xiucai exam in the second year of Jingxi, the year I was born—a double blessing for our family.”
Emperor Jingxi thought for a moment.
He had changed the reign title in his second year on the throne; at that time, he had been Emperor for three years, not yet seventeen, and had finally gained full control over the government.
He was deeply engrossed in state affairs then.
At the same time, in the distant Eastern Sea, a young man who had just come of age passed the Xiucai exam and joyfully welcomed a daughter—A wu.
A strange feeling came over him as he said, “Then your father must have read my Imperial writings.”
He had once written a special letter to all the scholars of the realm, which was widely circulated at the time.
Even on the distant shores of the Eastern Sea, A wu’s father, who had passed the Xiucai exam, should have read it.
That Xiucai could never have known that one day, his wailing baby daughter would grow up, travel to the capital, and become the Emperor’s companion.
A wu was surprised.
“Ah? That I wouldn’t know.”
How would she know?
After her father gave up scholarship for business, he never mentioned the past.
Afterward, though she learned to read and had studied the classics, her father always told her there was no need to study too much—it was useless.
Thinking of this, she sighed.
“Actually, my father… they say he was very talented and famous in the village. That’s what my mother said.”
Emperor Jingxi raised his brows lightly upon hearing this.
“Is that so?”
A wu was a bit dissatisfied with his skeptical tone—she felt he was looking down on her father.
She muttered, “I may not be very learned, but my father is different. My mother married him because of his great learning.”
Emperor Jingxi agreed, “For your father to attain academic honors in such a remote place, he must have been full of talent.”
Yet his praise still sounded a bit offhand to A wu.
The father she admired and loved was, in his words, just “a scholar from a remote place who passed the Xiucai exam.”
A wu asked, “I remember hearing about something called ‘Son of the Emperor’s Gate.’ What does that mean?”
Emperor Jingxi replied, “Those who pass the Palace Examination become Gongshi and will take part in the final Imperial Examination. In that exam, I personally set the questions and test the scholars. Those who are chosen as the top three are my disciples and are called ‘Sons of the Emperor’s Gate.'”
To be a Son of the Emperor’s Gate was a lifelong honor.
Those chosen would enter the Hanlin Academy and have a bright future.
A wu thought about what she had learned recently and understood.
The path of the Imperial Examinations consisted of the Prefectural Exam, Provincial Exam, Metropolitan Exam, and finally, the Palace Examination, which Emperor Jingxi personally oversaw.
Her father had only passed the Prefectural Exam—still a long way from the Palace Examination.
So in Emperor Jingxi’s eyes, a mere Xiucai, no matter how talented, was just that.
The ones he selected in the Palace Examination were probably far more promising than her father.
She grumbled unhappily, “My father must have been held back!”
Seeing her displeasure, Emperor Jingxi hurried to her side, drew her into his arms, and coaxed gently, “To have raised a clever and talented daughter like you, your father must have great talent and vision. It’s the world’s fault that he never got to fulfill his ambitions. Blame me—I failed to select worthy men and missed out on great talent.”
A wu was still unhappy, pursing her lips and saying nothing.
How could Emperor Jingxi bear to let her stay upset?
He could only coax her again, saying, “If the day comes when your father returns, and if he wishes, I can make an exception and allow him to return to the academy to take the Provincial Exam.”
This was an extraordinary favor.
But A wu thought, even if he took the Provincial and Metropolitan Exams, by the time he reached the Palace Examination, their ancestors’ graves would be overgrown with weeds.
If by chance he did get to the Palace Exam, he’d have to kneel and shout “Long live the Emperor!” three times and be accepted as a disciple.
Her father, his disciple?
Heh.
A wu: “Who cares! My father wouldn’t care!”
If anyone else said this, it would be a capital offense, but Emperor Jingxi knew he couldn’t take it to heart.
His beloved, so much younger than himself, might say things that weren’t well thought out—he could only blame himself for not teaching her well.
And if he really couldn’t teach her, he’d just accept it—this was her nature.
What could he do about it?
He had no choice but to set aside his usual dignity, be patient, and coax her, telling her that if her father and brothers returned, they would be rewarded as a matter of course.
Not only her father, but even her brothers could be given official posts, starting as Sixth-Rank Commanders.
Great Hui didn’t like letting imperial in-laws wield too much power, but there were thousands of officials—being a regular one was a far cry from holding real power.
A wu finally cheered up at this.
The term “your father” was actually odd between close men and women.
If it were another consort’s father, he’d probably use their official titles, avoiding the trouble.
But since her father was nowhere to be found, this was the only way to refer to him.
Now at least “your father” had become “the old gentleman.”
It was a subtle change—”your father” was distant and formal, the Emperor’s way of doing things; “the old gentleman” showed his sensitivity and cleverness.
She understood, too.
As the Son of Heaven, even the Empress’s father had to kneel before him, let alone her own father.
He was already giving her a great deal of face.
And he’d even promised her father and brothers official posts.
To become officials…
A wu suddenly began to look forward to it—her father and brothers could become officials!
Emperor Jingxi saw her face relax and finally breathed a sigh of relief.
If her family were present, he would naturally reward them generously—her happiness was what mattered.
He realized that now, facing A wu, he instinctively wanted to please her, wanted her to be happy.
He was willing to break a few old rules for her.
But it didn’t matter.
A young woman suffering the pains of pregnancy for him—he ought to pamper her more.
Whatever an ordinary man could give, he could give; whatever an ordinary man couldn’t give, he could give as well.
So he held her, smiling gently.
“There’s good news today. Do you know what it is?”
A wu’s mood improved even more.
“I know.”
Emperor Jingxi’s eyes were full of laughter as he looked at her, “Oh?”
A wu: “It’s a promotion!”
This was a big deal.
On this day, all the imperial consorts and female officials would gather at the Palace of Ronghua.
Whether they were promoted or not would be decided today!
Since promotions in the Great Hui harem followed a set pattern, and based on the assessments, it was usually possible to guess in advance, so people weren’t too anxious.
Of course, those in ambiguous positions would worry—would they be promoted or not?
A wu, thanks to Emperor Jingxi’s hint, knew she’d be promoted at least two ranks, maybe more, so she was full of confidence.
Naturally, her mood brightened, all previous unhappiness forgotten.
She was radiant, eager to rush to the Palace of Ronghua.
She immediately got up, no longer lazing around.
Emperor Jingxi saw her impatient look and laughed.
“Remember to dress up nicely—at least do me some credit.”
A wu: “Alright! Don’t worry, your little Imperial Noble Lady will be the most beautiful!”
Emperor Jingxi couldn’t help but laugh.
***
A wu dressed up carefully and hurried to the Palace of Ronghua.
By then, all the consorts were present, each one anxious.
But among those A wu was familiar with, Lady Meng had no chance of promotion and didn’t expect it.
Concubine Hui figured she’d have to remain at her current rank for a few more years, so she had no hope either.
Only A wu held some expectation.
As soon as A wu arrived, a female official had already arranged a brocade stool for her, with a sable fur rug and cushion, and even a hand warmer.
Now that A wu was pregnant, the female officials around her were especially attentive.
Even at the Palace of Ronghua, she received extra consideration—no one dared be negligent.
Everyone was envious—finally, after more than a decade, there was news of an imperial heir in the harem.
Soon, the promotions were announced—some were promoted in rank, some didn’t get a higher rank but received a better title.
Lady Meng and Concubine Hui hadn’t expected anything, but to their surprise, their stipends increased a little.
Despite their usual composure, both were delighted.
Lady Meng’s gloom since the holidays was swept away, her face now full of joy.
At last, A wu heard her own name.
Supported by two female officials, she received the Imperial Edict, which was concise and to the point—she was promoted.
Promoted to Noble Consort.
A wu was stunned for a while at this.
Ever since she became pregnant, A wu had secretly guessed Emperor Jingxi’s intentions.
Both the Empress Dowager and Emperor Jingxi liked her, so surely she’d be rewarded.
She’d expected to be promoted to Imperial Consort, and maybe another step up.
But Noble Consort?