Fang Ziqin suddenly lifted his head.
His mind was roaring like a swarm of millions of bees.
“Assigned to enter the residence and attend her?”
Was he… being bestowed by His Majesty to Princess Anning?
A low-ranking seventh-grade official who had risen from humble origins through hard study.
A man who had once, in front of the emperor and the entire court, been exposed as the “naked midnight runaway” gossip target by the Northern Pacification Prince.
What right did he have…?
And yet, that overwhelming surge of joy crashed over him like a landslide and tsunami, instantly shattering every dam in his mind labeled “reason” and “self-doubt.”
His rational mind didn’t even have time to weigh the consequences.
His mouth had already acted on behalf of this body, which felt like it was about to explode.
“This subject, Fang Ziqin, thanks Your Majesty for the great grace!”
Bang!
The kowtow echoed like thunder.
His forehead struck the stone ground; blood seeped out in thin threads. The dull pain confirmed this was not a dream.
His hands, pressed against the ground, trembled violently, barely supporting his body.
“This subject swears before heaven and earth—he will devote his entire life to serving Her Highness the Princess!”
“I will regard Her Highness as my life itself, remain dutiful and proper, and serve until death!”
Every word erupted from the deepest part of his chest, burning with conviction—tinged with blood, sweetness, and desperate resolve.
Emperor Xiao Juechen’s brows twitched slightly.
This young man did have a pure heart.
Though he looked a bit foolish, this reckless determination to throw everything in for Mingxi was a hundred times better than that hypocritical beast, Qin Zhao.
The emperor’s scrutiny faded, replaced with a hint of approval—as if evaluating a future son-in-law.
“Enough.”
“I’m assigning you to attend her, not to become useless.”
The emperor’s tone softened, but still carried absolute authority.
“Your official position remains. Your duties continue.”
He paused, then added coldly:
“If you produce no results, then the word ‘consort’ will never be spoken to you in this lifetime.”
A blatant carrot dangled in front of him.
But it was a carrot so large and sweet that Fang Ziqin nearly burst into tears.
He finally had a future he could openly fight for—for her.
“This subject will not fail Your Majesty’s trust! Even if it costs my life!”
He kowtowed again, voice hoarse with emotion, every syllable sharp and resolute.
—
From deep within the reeds, the “lion” incarnation of Feng Zeyuan / Feng Zeyan trembled with excitement, tail nearly spinning like a windmill.
“Damn, Old Xiao is awesome!!”
“This ‘promotion incentive system’ is insane!”
“Not only solving his daughter’s love life, but also getting a fully motivated worker for free!”
“Correct,” the system replied.
“Official matchmaking: the deadliest kind.”
“This marriage—locked.”
Emperor Xiao Juechen’s mouth twitched slightly.
Old Xiao?
Free labor?
This girl… we’ll settle that later.
—
At that moment, Princess Mingxi stood frozen in place.
She looked at the man on the ground—face covered in blood, smiling like an idiot.
Then she looked at her father, who had the expression of someone “deeply satisfied with himself.”
Her cheeks burned so hot it felt like they could fry an egg.
Was… her father serious?
Those previous male attendants were merely “ornaments” kept in her residence.
But Fang Ziqin…
He had just said: “Even if it costs my life.”
Mingxi lowered her gaze. Her long lashes cast butterfly-like shadows in the moonlight, hiding the faint flicker in her eyes.
If he dared to offer himself…
Then she would… accept.
“Your daughter… obeys the decree.”
Her voice was soft, but it landed clearly in everyone’s ears—like a red-hot needle piercing Fang Ziqin’s heart.
It was done.
Emperor Xiao Juechen looked satisfied.
He waved his hand, ready to return to the palace and take credit in silence.
“Your Majesty! No! Absolutely not!”
A shrill cry suddenly tore through the romantic atmosphere.
Everyone turned in shock.
There, the notoriously stubborn Imperial Censor of the Censorate, Zhao Xian, crawled out from the bushes in disheveled fury.
His official robes were covered in mud and leaves, his face flushed purple with rage.
“Your Majesty!”
He slammed to his knees, the impact echoing.
“Her Highness the Princess is of noble blood! She has already been the subject of scandal due to male attendants!”
“Now you openly grant her Fang Ziqin—what becomes of imperial dignity?!”
“This will not only damage the Princess’s reputation, it will corrupt the very foundation of the court!”
Spit flying, he pointed at Fang Ziqin as if ready to die on the spot.
“Do you forget the disaster of Princess Yongle from the previous dynasty?”
“She kept three hundred male attendants, formed factions, and destabilized the court!”
“And Madam Liu, ruined by lust, ended in tragedy and annihilation!”
“Male beauty ruins the state! Male beauty is poison!”
“Your Majesty must reconsider! Revoke this decree and ban all noblewomen from keeping male attendants to restore order!”
The speech was so impassioned it nearly moved the entire court into stunned silence.
Some old ministers even nodded subconsciously.
Yes… it felt inappropriate.
Fang Ziqin’s face went pale instantly.
The joy that had soared to the heavens was doused in cold water and frozen into shards.
Right… if the princess took him in, she would suffer endless gossip.
She would be disgraced because of him.
Emperor Xiao Juechen’s expression darkened.
Zhao Xian… that stubborn old mule, always causing trouble.
Before the emperor could speak in anger—
A familiar voice echoed in everyone’s mind, filled with disdain.
—
【This old man really has no sense of boundaries.】
【Controlling the heavens and earth now? Next he’ll be controlling who sleeps in whose bed.】
【Even the “Pacific police” wouldn’t be this nosy.】
Zhao Xian froze.
“Pacific… police?”
But he had no time to think further.
He stiffened his neck, maintaining his righteous martyr expression.
—
The voice continued.
【System, investigate him!】
【Every angle. Every detail. I want everything.】
【Let’s see if this old fossil is taking bribes or just mentally unwell.】
The system responded instantly, cold and slightly excited:
【Data retrieval in progress…】
【Scan complete!】
【Host, this is a fully ripened melon.】
【Conclusion: Zhao Xian did NOT accept bribes. His motives are not political preservation.】
【He is purely—】
A pause.
【Suffering from PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder).】
Zhao Xian: “???”
The entire court fell into dead silence.
Every gaze shifted.
From righteous sympathy…
To gleaming, gossip-hungry anticipation.
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