Chapter 83: Female Competition

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Because he had to finalize the purge list with Zhang Dun, Zhao Yu returned to the palace when it was already pitch dark.

As Zhao Yu arrived at the back palace gate, he saw Pei Sui waiting to greet him.

It was the dead of winter, and Pei Sui wore little, her delicate face frozen crimson, her body radiating waves of cold.

Clearly, Pei Sui had been waiting there for some time.

Zhao Yu took off his large cloak and draped it over Pei Sui.

Pei Sui hurriedly refused: “Your servant is not cold, Your Majesty, please put it on yourself—don’t catch a chill!”

But Zhao Yu simply wrapped the cloak tightly around her, authoritative: “I command you to wear it. Refuse, and you defy the imperial decree.”

Hearing this, Pei Sui’s heart warmed; a tender glow passed through her eyes. She dared not resist again, whispering softly: “Thank Your Majesty’s grace.”

With that, she bowed slightly and obediently let Zhao Yu fasten the cloak.

The cloak still carried Zhao Yu’s body heat; as soon as she wore it, the cold vanished, as if her very heart had been warmed along with her body.

In truth, Zhao Yu was not merely kind to Pei Sui. Within his own palace, from imperial consorts down to ordinary serving maids, he treated them all gently and generously, never harshly. Even if they erred before him, so long as it wasn’t a matter of principle, he pretended not to see it. He rarely displayed authority before servants, so all the women in the back palace spoke of Zhao Yu as benevolent and loving, regarding him with awe and deep gratitude. Many maids even fell in love with him, seeing being chosen by Zhao Yu as their greatest fortune.

Indeed, Zhao Yu was not only kind to his women, but also to his eunuchs, guards, and all those close to him.

Here is a small example:

Every night, Zhao Yu arranged for hot oil cakes to be delivered to night watchmen—whether maids, eunuchs, or guards—cakes stuffed with smoked meat and seasonal vegetables, accompanied by a large bowl of steaming meat broth.

This was something Zhao Xu had never done as emperor.

Think: if you were the one on night watch, starving and freezing, and you ate these, what would you think?

Moreover, when Zhao Yu had free time, he would chat with his subordinates, asking them how large the oil cakes were, how many slices of smoked meat, which vegetables, whether the broth was enough. This ensured no one dared slack off—everyone received real, tangible benefits.

Such small kindnesses, Zhao Yu performed casually, and they had become routine.

This was not Zhao Yu’s original idea. He learned it from Empress Dowager Cixi.

Cixi ruled the Qing Dynasty for decades as a woman precisely through this method: though Guangxu was emperor, he could never seize her power. During the Hundred Days’ Reform, Guangxu issued dozens of edicts daily—no one obeyed. Yet Cixi, sitting in the Summer Palace, spoke one sentence, and every minister and official stood by her; the entire empire stirred. Even after the Qing fell, her follower Zhang Xun still tried to restore the dynasty with his queue army. Those who served her remained in awe of her until death, remembering her kindness.

Someone once summarized: power only exists when people carry it out. Otherwise, even an emperor who misunderstands human nature is doomed to be sidelined or imprisoned.

In short, by emulating the methods of historical figures like Cixi who held supreme power to win hearts, no one around Zhao Yu failed to respect him—many even felt gratitude. Even though they were conditioned by feudal norms, they blamed only the female officials, eunuchs, or generals directly managing them, never Zhao Yu. After all, the emperor was good—he was merely deceived by others.

To be honest, this did create some difficulties for the management of female officials, eunuchs, and generals.

Fortunately, unless under special circumstances, Zhao Yu never interfered in daily management. Even when special circumstances arose, he never directly overturned the decisions of his managers, stripping them of face and authority. Instead, he issued private orders for them to execute, fully preserving their dignity and prestige—unless he decided to dismiss them entirely.

Thus, the female officials, eunuchs, and generals also regarded Zhao Yu with awe and gratitude.

Pei Sui was one of them.

Without Zhao Yu’s strong backing, Pei Sui could never have managed his harem so orderly.

Of course, unlike others, Pei Sui was not merely a female official—she was also Zhao Yu’s woman.

When Empress Dowager sent four training maids to instruct Zhao Yu in marital matters, all three besides Pei Sui became pregnant in turn—only Pei Sui’s belly showed no sign.

Zhao Yu had made three other training maids pregnant; the problem clearly wasn’t his.

Was he denying Pei Sui the chance?

Not at all.

Not only did he spend many nights with Pei Sui before Ma Xiao Jiao, Wang Chuchu, and Guo Wei became pregnant, but even during the time after their pregnancies, he continued to favor her.

In fact, up to now, Pei Sui had spent more nights with Zhao Yu than any other woman.

Yet despite this, she still could not conceive.

This had already sparked much gossip. Jealous maids whispered that Pei Sui was wasting Zhao Yu’s imperial seed—that if given to fertile women, he might already have ten children or more. Some even claimed she was a criminal of the Shen Wangfu and even of the Zhao Song dynasty.

This placed immense pressure on Pei Sui, driving her to desperately want to conceive—to prove she could bear children and secure her greatest safeguard.

This pressure grew larger as Zhang Chun’s five women arrived, and as Zheng Xiansu, Wang Yisu, and Guo Ting drew nearer to their weddings.

—Pei Sui knew well: with more competitors, especially her adoptive mother Zheng Xiansu’s arrival, she would no longer have so many opportunities—she might not have any at all.

So Pei Sui intended to seize this final chance to conceive.

To this end, she exhausted every means to secure an opportunity.

But since she had to maintain an image of composure and strategic vision, she could not be too forward in seeking affection, lest she lose her greatest value.

Thus, Pei Sui could only pour all her energy into managing Zhao Yu’s harem, hoping he would reward her with more visits because of her service.

Of course, Pei Sui also used the power at her disposal.

For instance, this time.

She used her exclusive right to leave the back palace gate, waiting at the entrance to ensure she was the first woman Zhao Yu saw upon returning.

Pei Sui quickly reported to Zhao Yu her arrangements for the four women, seeking his approval, and detailed what the four—including Ma Xiao Jiao—had done that day.

Finally, Pei Sui volunteered: “I have already instructed them, especially those selected by the four, that regarding their affairs, not a single word may be leaked—anyone who speaks out will face the harshest punishment…”

Correct.

Zhao Yu was suppressing news of the five women, trying to prevent their information from leaking.

First, this reduced their influence, preventing them from using it to cause trouble.

This had to be guarded against: their mindset differed from women of this era, their courage far exceeded anything this age could produce. Without exaggeration, they truly dared to think big—and dared to act. They were even now biding their time to do something grand.

Second, it helped avoid unnecessary complications.

After all, Zhao Yu had not yet fully won them over; their relationship was not yet settled.

Crucially, for women from his past life, even if the rice was cooked into porridge, they could still leave him—change locations, restore their hymens, lie, and claim they were still virgins with no past lovers.

So he must control their contact with unnecessary—and especially risky—men.

Zhao Yu listened and nodded, approving Pei Sui’s actions.

Only then did Pei Sui reveal her true intent: “Your Majesty, where will you rest tonight? I shall arrange it.”

Since Zheng Xiansu had not yet married in, the normal inner palace institutions, ranks, duties, rituals, and financial management had yet to be established.

And since Wang Chuchu and Guo Wei, who should have aided Pei Sui, were now pregnant.

Now, Pei Sui bore the title of Inner Minister and managed everything—including the Emperor’s sleeping arrangements.

Yet this also revealed how extraordinary Pei Sui was: at only seventeen or eighteen, she alone managed this vast burden—and had done so without a single mishap.

Clearly, Zheng Xiansu had sent the right person.

Not for any other reason, but simply because Pei Sui had held the harem steady on her own, at this critical moment when stability outweighed all else, Zhao Yu owed her a reward.

Besides, Zhao Yu never saw himself as a breeding animal. He engaged in such acts not merely for offspring, but mostly for his own pleasure.

Thus, even if Pei Sui could never conceive, it did not prevent Zhao Yu from enjoying her.

So Zhao Yu whispered to Pei Sui: “Tonight, I shall try your ‘Mingling Worshiping the Moon’ again.”

Pei Sui’s eyes lit up; sweetly and softly, she replied: “Yes.”

Zhao Yu well knew: though Pei Sui appeared sweet and harmless before him, to others she was formidable—almost no palace servant dared defy her.

But this was normal; without such ability, she could never have stabilized his harem.

Zhao Yu made no pretense about Pei Sui’s dual nature.

On the contrary, the thought of such a powerful Pei Sui, beneath him, yielding completely, striving to please him, filled him with quiet pride and excitement.

As Zhao Yu and Pei Sui entered Funing Gate, they saw two stunningly beautiful young maids standing in the cold wind.

One stood quietly, like a delicate ink painting. Her figure was light, swaying gently as a orchid in the breeze, radiating innate grace. Her tiny face, pale as snow, seemed to glow. Beneath arched brows, almond-shaped eyes, deep as endless stories, held both the innocence of youth and a touch of premature composure.

The other, at first glance, seemed like a spring bud just blooming, radiating liveliness. Her slender frame, like tender willow in spring, stood upright. Her round face, full as a ripe peach under the sun, flushed pink. Her large, round eyes, like pools of clear spring water, sparkled with innocent curiosity—each flicker seemed to whisper countless clever, mischievous thoughts.

Zhao Yu smiled: “Oh? When did two such beautiful little maids arrive in the palace?”

Pei Sui introduced him: “The quiet one is Lady Li, childhood name Shishi, chosen today by Lady Zhang as her personal maid; the lively one is Yuannu, originally sharing Your Majesty’s surname, but changed to Shao to avoid it, adopted as a maid by Lady Ye. Both were trained as courtesans at Fanlou. Previously, when they lured the Prince Duan, the late emperor shut down Fanlou, and they, along with the other courtesans, entered the Imperial Music Bureau. The Ministry of Revenue officials, seeing they were well-educated, exceptionally beautiful, and still pure, deemed it a waste to keep them there, so they were included in the palace selection. Unexpectedly, all twelve were chosen—these two were the most beautiful among them.”

Earlier that day, Zhang Chun had taken Li Shishi; Ye Shi Yun, resentful, pouted and begged Pei Sui to find her an even better maid.

Pei Sui, unwilling to offend Ye Shi Yun, gave her Zhao Yuannu from her own reserve.

In appearance, Li Shishi and Zhao Yuannu were evenly matched, but Zhao Yuannu was more clever and more aware of the bigger picture. In Pei Sui’s view, she would fare better in the harem—so she intended to adopt her as a daughter and train her as a trusted aide, just as Zheng Xiansu had once adopted her.

But Pei Sui knew Zhao Yu valued the five women, so to avoid offending them—or even to win their favor—she reluctantly gave Zhao Yuannu to Ye Shi Yun.

Seeing Pei Sui had kept a secret treasure, Li Lin and Yuan Qingcheng also demanded similarly beautiful maids.

But this time, Pei Sui truly had none left, and could only tell them the truth.

Fortunately, Li Lin and Yuan Qingcheng were reasonable; Pei Sui selected two obedient, sweet girls for them, and they ceased pressing her.

Zhao Yu recalled: Minister of Rites He Zhizhong had submitted a memorial asking whether young girls from the Imperial Music Bureau could be eligible for palace selection.

At the time, Zhao Yu had paid it no mind, simply scribbling “Approved.”

Yet this had led to Li Shishi and Zhao Yuannu—two of the era’s most famed courtesans—entering his harem, each adopted as maids by Zhang Chun and Ye Shi Yun.

“This…”

Zhao Yu truly did not know what to say.

If he had to say anything, he could only thank heaven for being so generous to him.

Zhao Yu asked Li Shishi and Zhao Yuannu: “Why are you two waiting here for me?”

Li Shishi spoke first: “My lady has urgent matters to present to Your Majesty. May I ask if you have time?”

Zhao Yuannu followed: “My lady has thought of another strategy, perhaps worth trying, and requests to discuss it with you.”

Seeing Zhang Chun and Ye Shi Yun so eager, Zhao Yu grew less hurried—he decided to let them compete a few more days, to draw out even more from them.

Besides, he had already promised Pei Sui—could he go back on his word?

So Zhao Yu told Li Shishi and Zhao Yuannu: “I have no time tonight. Return and tell your ladies: if matters are urgent, come tomorrow.”

Hearing this, Li Shishi and Zhao Yuannu could only return to report to Zhang Chun and Ye Shi Yun.

And Zhao Yu, with Pei Sui, returned to Funing Palace to rest…

…

(End of chapter)