Chapter 98: The Emperor Must Guarantee I Bear a Son

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Zhang Chun gnashed her teeth in fury!!!

Did she not want to serve the bed?

She craved it more than anything, didn’t she!!!

Heaven knows how hard she worked just to earn a night with him!!!

But fate toyed with her, and Zheng Xiansu stood as a blocking tiger, turning every one of her chances to serve the bed into dust.

And because she hadn’t conceived, she couldn’t even stand out—dig deeper, and she was worse off than Fu Ling and Ma Shi, two native palace maids. Though they too were only Cairen, like Zhang Chun, they carried the capital for promotion: if they gave birth safely, their rank would surely leave Zhang Chun far behind.

And even this was only because Zheng Xiansu didn’t know the truth about Zhang Chun’s attempts to serve the bed; otherwise, Zhang Chun wouldn’t even hold the rank of Cairen—she’d be reduced to the lowest tier of imperial consorts, like Ye Shi Yun and Yuan Qing Cheng.

It was too humiliating. Zhang Chun now dared not even mention she was a reincarnator, let alone boast of her mastery of history and politics.

In Zhang Chun’s view, it all boiled down to her failure to seize the chance to serve the bed.

‘If I hadn’t lost the tutor maid position to Jiao Jiao, maybe I’d already be Empress. Then I wouldn’t have to survive in the cracks of Zheng Xiansu’s framework, and at the very least, I wouldn’t be falling so far behind others!’

To put it plainly, her past failures to serve the bed had become an unspeakable pain in Zhang Chun’s heart.

But this bastard Zhao Yu didn’t comfort her or pity her—he tore open her wounds and mocked her with this very thing!

At a moment when Zheng Xiansu was hunting for someone to make an example of, could she be so foolish as to walk straight into Zheng Xiansu’s hands and give her the chance to kill her as a warning to the monkeys?

‘Do you want to get me killed?’

‘Men are all just big pork feet!’

At this moment, the more Zhang Chun looked at Zhao Yu, the angrier she became—she wanted to bite off a chunk of his flesh!

‘If you only favored me, only loved me, and did whatever I said, would I be this heartbroken?’

‘Now I might have to live like a Buddhist ascetic—all because of you!’

‘You don’t even realize this is all your fault, yet you’re making light of it—do you have any conscience?’

‘I was blind to fall for a piece of trash like you!’

Zhang Chun couldn’t hold back—she bit down hard on Zhao Yu’s shoulder.

Yet Zhang Chun’s greatest flaw—and perhaps her greatest strength—was her excessive rationality.

The instant her teeth sank into Zhao Yu’s shoulder, she realized: Zhao Yu was Emperor, and tonight he would sleep with Zheng Xiansu. If she truly injured him, even if Zhao Yu indulged her, Zheng Xiansu would use this as an excuse to punish her.

That would not only end her political life but might even cost her her life.

So Zhang Chun quickly clamped her mouth shut, replacing the bite with a gentle rub of her cheek against Zhao Yu’s shoulder, like a kitten seeking affection, and spoke with a touch of wistfulness: ‘My Lord, do not jest. This is the critical moment for you to sire an heir. Even if I am ignorant, I know the urgency—I would never dare sabotage this great matter. If you truly pity me, then make the Empress conceive soon. I await you, faithful for life.’

Zhao Yu sighed inwardly: ‘To pursue great deeds yet cling to one’s life, to see small gains… well, acceptable. Pure, you’ll never amount to much. Even if I gave you the chance, you’d never dare confront my Empress head-on—best you can do is scheme behind her back, always hesitating, never striking.’

Zhao Yu gently stroked Zhang Chun’s back and said: ‘I am not jesting, beloved concubine. I truly wish to reward you. You’ve accomplished much lately; if I don’t reward you, won’t I seem unjust?’

Zhang Chun firmly refused the trap: ‘I do anything for My Lord willingly—I ask for no reward.’

Seeing Zhang Chun was determined not to provoke Zheng Xiansu, Zhao Yu stopped teasing her, and began toying with her while pondering how to govern the Zhao Song dynasty.

Soon, Zhang Chun couldn’t help but set a small trap for Zheng Xiansu: “The Empress has opened the Palace Examination. I wish to take it—what do you think, My Lord?”

Zhao Yu knew Zhang Chun too well—he could tell what she intended just by the way she shifted her hips.

He thought: ‘You don’t want to take the Palace Examination—you’re trying to poison my Empress, comparing her to Liu E, warning me not to become Emperor Zhenzong and risk being sidelined.’

If Zhao Yu didn’t know the history of Emperor Zhenzong and Liu E, he might have been fooled by Zhang Chun.

But he knew well: even in Emperor Zhenzong’s final years, Liu E never fully usurped his power. Still, she did gradually accumulate considerable authority.

The truth was, because Emperor Zhenzong adored Liu E so deeply—and, in his later years due to illness, willingly entrusted her with state affairs—she was able to gradually intervene in governance through her political talent and his trust.

Yet even at the end of Emperor Zhenzong’s life, he still held control over power.

For example, when Liu E’s growing authority alarmed some ministers, Emperor Zhenzong did not fully abdicate—he left a will stipulating that Liu E’s regency was conditional upon Emperor Renzong being ‘still a child,’ requiring her to return power once he came of age. This limited her potential for long-term dominance.

Moreover, the Song scholar-official class acted as a counterbalance to imperial power: ministers like Wang Zeng and Lu Zongdao repeatedly opposed Liu E’s overreach, preventing her from emulating Wu Zetian and declaring herself emperor.

Thus, Liu E’s power derived from Emperor Zhenzong’s trust and delegation—not from usurping him. In his final years, she played a vital regent role, but remained constrained by institutional and ministerial limits, never breaking beyond her identity as Empress to seize full imperial authority.

Since Wu Zetian declared herself emperor, the path for women to become emperors had been effectively sealed shut. Afterward, no Empress or Empress Dowager, no matter how powerful, could wield authority without holding the Emperor in her grip.

And even then, only if her husband died early.

Zhao Yu was four years younger than Zheng Xiansu and in good health—he shouldn’t die before her.

To put it plainly, as long as Zhao Yu lived, Zheng Xiansu would remain under his suppression.

Even if Zhao Yu died young and preceded Zheng Xiansu, wasn’t there the saying: ‘After I die, let the floods come!’

So Zhang Chun’s slander had no effect on Zhao Yu.

Zhao Yu followed her lead: ‘Try it. With your talent, you might even win top honors.’

Then Zhao Yu added: ‘If you win top honors, I’ll favor you for ten consecutive days—how about that?’

Zhang Chun’s eyes lit up!

To be honest, although Zhao Yu’s harem certainly harbored hidden talents—people of extraordinary literary ability, like Zheng Xiansu herself, who dared to preside over the Palace Examination—Zhang Chun was no ordinary rival: a top graduate in the humanities, proficient in history and politics, with exceptional literary skill. More importantly, she had the advantage of modern knowledge—she could utterly dominate every woman in the harem in poetry and verse.

Put it this way: even if Li Qingzhao, the greatest female poet of all time, were brought here to compete with her, Zhang Chun had a guaranteed win.

What could she do? She wasn’t fighting alone—she carried the accumulated wisdom of nearly a thousand years, forged by countless generations.

Even other reincarnators—Li Lin, Ye Shi Yun, Ma Xiao Jiao, Yuan Qing Cheng—couldn’t touch this opportunity.

Looking at it this way, the reward of ten days of exclusive favor seemed tailor-made for Zhang Chun.

Zhang Chun immediately perked up: ‘My Lord, don’t trick me!’

Zhao Yu frowned: ‘Nonsense. A sovereign’s word is sacred—do you think I’d lie to you?’

Zhang Chun quickly begged forgiveness: ‘I beg your pardon, My Lord.’

Zhao Yu gave her a symbolic smack on the buttocks as punishment: ‘Don’t do it again.’

But that slap didn’t serve as a warning—it sent a shiver through Zhang Chun.

Slightly intoxicated, Zhang Chun responded like a woman in heat: ‘Yes~!’

Realizing her voice sounded too strange, Zhang Chun quickly changed the subject: ‘I’ve made a bet with My Lord.’

Zhao Yu, intending to teach her a lesson, said: ‘A bet must have both win and loss. If you win, I’ll favor you for ten days. But if you lose, what then?’

Zhang Chun played clever: ‘If I lose, I leave myself entirely to My Lord’s discretion—would that do?’

As she spoke, she gave Zhao Yu a meaningful glance.

Zhao Yu thought: ‘Whether you win or lose, you want me. How sweet.’

Zhao Yu rejected her proposal without hesitation: ‘You want to win and gain favor, and lose and still gain favor? Is there such a free lunch in this world?’

Zhang Chun seethed inwardly: ‘I’m a virgin offering myself to you freely, and you think you’re the one getting the better deal? Emperor? So what!’

Though furious inside, she only dared to whine: ‘Then what does My Lord propose?’

Zhao Yu knew Zhang Chun was desperate to come to him for guidance, so he proposed: ‘If you don’t win top honors, I’ll not favor you for a year—how about that?’

Zhang Chun exploded: ‘Unfair! Unfair!!! Zhao Yu, you’re too much!!! You think I can’t live without you, don’t you!!! You underestimate me so much—haven’t I lived all these years without a man? Do you think you can threaten me? Hmph… Who do you think you are? Not sleeping with you for a lifetime—what’s the big deal…’

Zhao Yu knew that as a reincarnator, as a spoiled little fairy from her past life, Zhang Chun wouldn’t yield easily.

But he wasn’t worried at all.

This was Northern Song. He was a man, and an Emperor. She was his concubine—one among many—and she was already bound tightly by feudal chains, her body and soul no longer her own. Who held dominance? The answer was obvious.

‘I’ve got you figured out.’

Zhao Yu wasn’t bullying her—he was correcting her arrogance. Otherwise, she’d dare to think of becoming his mother. If he didn’t discipline her now, wouldn’t she turn the world upside down?

As for this one-year term?

It was Zhao Yu’s to set. He could wait a year—or not. Even if he took her right now, it wouldn’t matter.

‘I am Emperor. I hold the final interpretation.’

Zhao Yu didn’t rush her—he waited calmly as Zhang Chun built up her mental resolve.

He knew her well.

Indeed, after the initial fury passed, Zhang Chun began to reason with herself: ‘Endure it, endure it. Small patience prevents great chaos. Zhao Yu’s just been spoiled by those bad women—he’s not a bad child. I know my son, don’t I? Forget it, forget it—I’m his mother—I can’t hold a grudge against my own child…’

Soon, the most pragmatic Zhang Chun bargained: ‘Unless My Lord guarantees I bear a son, I won’t make this bet. Defeating so many others is no small feat.’

Zhang Chun was clear-eyed: ten days of favor might be delightful, but wouldn’t guarantee pregnancy.

Didn’t Pei Sui sleep with Zhao Yu for dozens of days and still remain barren?

Zhang Chun couldn’t be sure she wasn’t like Pei Sui—a woman with a barren body.

And deep down, she’d always doubted whether she could conceive.

In her view, Ma Xiao Jiao—with her exaggerated development—was clearly fertile. But she, with her ‘underdeveloped’ frame, might struggle to conceive.

Under these circumstances, ten days might not be enough.

So demanding a child outright was far safer.

Crucially, Zhang Chun had slipped in a trick: she demanded Zhao Yu guarantee her a son—not a daughter.

Zhang Chun’s calculations were plastered all over Zhao Yu’s face—he couldn’t miss her scheme.

But Zhao Yu was willing to let Zhang Chun bear him a son.

In his view, modern women didn’t care whether the rice was cooked—but if a woman truly bore him a child, it proved she had truly invested.

Only then, when the five of them eventually learned he too was a reincarnator, would they truly be struck—otherwise, they might comfort themselves: ‘It was just a dog bite—what’s the big deal?’

That was not what Zhao Yu wanted.

Thus, one of his goals was to make at least one of the five women bear him a child—so they could repay the interest they owed him.

So Zhao Yu didn’t bargain—he agreed immediately: ‘Good. Agreed.’

Zhang Chun was overjoyed! With Zhao Yu’s promise, unless she was truly infertile or Zhao Yu suddenly became impotent like Zhao Gou, she had essentially reserved one of his sons.

And if Zhang Chun bore Zhao Yu a son, she’d have a seat at the table—she’d have something to play with in this political game of Northern Song.

To be honest, Zhang Chun never expected Zhao Yu to agree to such a harsh condition—she couldn’t help wondering: ‘Is he deliberately giving me a gift… or does he think I can’t possibly win top honors?’

But for now, Zhang Chun had no interest in guessing what Zhao Yu was thinking; seeing him agree so readily, she felt she’d asked for too little, so she pressed further: “On the day of the evaluation, His Majesty must be present...”

Zhang Chun had originally wanted Zhao Yu to come and cheer her on, but as the words formed on her lips, she realized that saying so would make her seem greedy—and might provoke Zhao Yu’s resentment.

So Zhang Chun changed her tone and said: “With His Majesty presiding, the Imperial Harem Examination will be fair and just; otherwise, if I win first place, others may doubt me, accusing me of favoritism and fraud.”

It was no great matter, and Zhao Yu was happy to join the spectacle, so he agreed.

Afterward, Zhao Yu held Zhang Chun close, and the two lingered in tender intimacy for a while before she reluctantly departed.

Back home, Zhang Chun told Li Shishi: “Go tomorrow and find me all the study texts for the Imperial Harem Examination—complete ones, no laziness.”

Li Shishi was curious: “My lady, why do you need these?”

Zhang Chun declared proudly: “Your lady will sweep the Imperial Harem Examination and become the first female Zhuangyuan...”

(End of Chapter)