WK Chapter 36

The palace attendants from the main kitchen delivered the Seventh Prince’s milk tea to various locations as instructed.

 

The first stop was the Six Halls of the Eastern Courtyard.

 

At that moment, the princes were on a break between lessons and were surprised to see attendants from the main kitchen arrive.

 

Tutor Fang asked curiously: “The study hall doesn’t require meal deliveries—are you lost?”

 

The palace attendants bowed and smiled as they placed the food boxes on Tutor Fang’s desk. “This is a drink created by the Seventh Prince. He instructed us to deliver it to all the princes and Tutor Fang.”

 

“Something from Seventh Brother?”

 

The Fourth Prince raised his head from his small desk and abandoned his pillow as he walked over curiously. “What is it?”

 

The Fifth and Sixth Princes also gathered around.

 

The Sixth Prince declared: “He must have been thinking about me.”

 

“Even I get some?” Tutor Fang chuckled as he waved at the First through Third Princes. “Don’t hold back—come and try it.”

 

With his encouragement, the atmosphere in the study hall immediately became lively. A crowd formed around the two food boxes.

 

“This was made using His Majesty’s tea cakes and premium milk,” explained one of the palace attendants. “However, our steward instructed us to warn that it contains taro and tapioca pearls, which might be hard to digest. Fourth Prince, Fifth Prince, and Sixth Prince shouldn’t overindulge—Tutor Fang should keep an eye on them.”

 

As soon as the bamboo cups of milk tea were taken out, their sweet aroma captivated the young princes.

 

The bamboo straws made drinking convenient, and thanks to insulated containers, the milk tea was still warm when served. One sip warmed them up completely.

 

“This is so delicious! Seventh Brother is so thoughtful,” praised the Fourth Prince sincerely.

 

The Sixth Prince took a sip from each flavor before staking his claim: “These are all mine!”

 

Meanwhile, the First through Third Princes were more composed and each chose one cup.

 

The Second Prince took a sip and raised an eyebrow. “If this could be mass-produced, I imagine many officials working in the palace would love it.”

 

The Third Prince remarked dismissively: “It’s alright—I wonder which palace attendant taught Seventh Brother how to make this.”

 

“Before saying that,” suggested the First Prince with a chuckle, “I’d recommend putting down your bamboo cup first.” He countered smoothly: “I think Second Brother’s idea is excellent. In this cold weather, setting up a stall near the Six Ministries’ offices to sell this would not only generate income but also provide officials with something warm to drink.”

 

Tutor Fang was pleased with this gesture from the Seventh Prince and sipped his hot drink contentedly before glancing at the three older princes with a smirk. “Officials earn their salaries from the imperial treasury—it’s only fitting they spend some of it back here in the palace.”

 

The First Prince coughed awkwardly while sharing an embarrassed smile with the Second Prince before quietly sipping their milk tea.

 

Thanks to this warm treat on a chilly winter day, the atmosphere in the study hall became much more relaxed and pleasant.

 

—

 

In the Harem

 

The fact that the Seventh Prince had created a new drink wasn’t particularly noteworthy—but what piqued curiosity was that he had only sent it to the Empress and Consort Xuan.

 

This left other consorts who hadn’t received any even more intrigued—they desperately wanted to know what it tasted like. Yet when they sent people to request some from the main kitchen, they were told they’d have to wait three days for more.

 

—

 

Shunning Palace

 

Rich aromas of tea and milk filled the room.

 

Princess Zhiyi’s favorability toward her unseen Seventh Brother rose with every sip she took. Feeling shy after finishing her drink, she asked hesitantly: “Consort Xuan, do you know what Seventh Brother likes? I’d like to give him a gift.”

 

Consort Xuan replied calmly: “I don’t know. Perhaps Zhiyi could find an opportunity to ask him directly?”

 

Princess Zhiyi hesitated. “But none of my brothers or sisters like playing with me.”

 

“Seventh Highness won’t be like that,” Consort Xuan reassured her gently.

 

Sitting across from Consort Xuan was Noble Lady Guo, who patted her daughter’s head affectionately before turning to Consort Xuan with gratitude. “Elder Sister, among all those in this palace besides Her Majesty herself, only you received this gift from Seventh Highness—it shows how much he likes you.”

 

Consort Xuan smiled faintly. “I did host him for lunch last time.”

 

Shunning Palace housed both Consort Xuan and Noble Lady Guo. Princess Zhiyi was Noble Lady Guo’s daughter; however, due to Noble Lady Guo’s low rank, she wasn’t qualified to raise her own child—the princess had to be officially placed under Consort Xuan’s care.

 

By convention, Consort Xuan could have taken full custody of Princess Zhiyi herself and severed her connection with Noble Lady Guo entirely.

 

But she hadn’t done so—instead choosing never to interfere in their mother-daughter relationship while offering them considerable support.

 

Though Emperor Chongzhao never visited Shunning Palace anymore, Noble Lady Guo willingly stayed there because it allowed her to personally raise her daughter.

 

To her, fleeting imperial favor meant nothing compared to her daughter’s importance—and for that reason alone she felt deeply grateful toward Consort Xuan.

 

Noble Lady Guo said softly, “The Seventh Prince likes you. Why not take this opportunity to petition His Majesty to raise a prince? I know, Elder Sister, that you’ve been heartbroken over the child you lost back then, but there’s still a long life ahead of you. You have to think about the future, don’t you?”

 

Consort Xuan had been with Emperor Chongzhao for a long time.

 

Back when Emperor Chongzhao was still a prince, she had conceived a child, but the pregnancy ended in miscarriage. Since then, she had avoided the Emperor entirely, and rumors of their strained relationship began circulating. However, after Emperor Chongzhao ascended the throne and conferred her the title of consort, those rumors gradually faded.

 

Consort Xuan replied calmly, “If I wanted to make up for the past, I would have taken Zhiyi under my care long ago. But that wouldn’t work. Transferring my emotions might ease my own pain, but it would be unfair to the child who becomes the recipient of those feelings. My kindness toward them wouldn’t be entirely genuine.”

 

Noble Lady Guo asked, “How is that any different?”

 

Consort Xuan turned to Princess Zhiyi and asked gently, “Zhiyi, let me ask you something. If I were kind to you only because I couldn’t be kind to someone else, would that make you happy?”

 

Princess Zhiyi thought for a moment and replied honestly, “I don’t think I’d feel very happy.”

 

Consort Xuan nodded. “You see? That’s exactly it. Children are very sensitive—they can tell whether adults truly love them or not. If the Seventh Prince were raised under my care and I treated him as a way to compensate for the child I lost, it wouldn’t be fair to either him or that lost child.”

 

Noble Lady Guo sighed. “Elder Sister, you’re far too clear-headed.”

 

Consort Xuan stood up and stretched her body slightly. “Being clear-headed is better than being muddled. By the way, didn’t you make a little cart for Zhiyi that she can ride in?”

 

Noble Lady Guo smiled. “Yes, I did.”

 

“Make another one—I’ll help you with it.”

 

“For what?”

 

Consort Xuan replied with a faint smile: “Since Shunning Palace received a drink from the Seventh Prince, we should return the gesture with a gift.”

 

—

 

Zichen Palace

 

When Prince Ming arrived at Zichen Palace, he saw palace attendants distributing something among themselves. Curious, he asked about it and learned it was a new drink. Intrigued, he grabbed a cup to try it.

 

As he stepped into Xinuan Pavilion, he said cheerfully: “Royal Brother, this drink is quite good! Tea is nice on its own, but sometimes it tastes too plain. Is this something new created by the main kitchen?”

 

Emperor Chongzhao looked up from his desk with confusion. “What new drink?”

 

Prince Ming was equally puzzled. “You haven’t tried it yet?”

 

He shook the bamboo cup in his hand and said: “Here—it’s this.”

 

“Doesn’t everything new from the main kitchen get sent to you first? Or is this just some half-finished experiment they’re letting palace attendants try? But with such high-quality ingredients—” He sniffed it carefully. “This tea fragrance couldn’t come from cheap leaves.”

 

Emperor Chongzhao set down his memorials and asked: “Yu Dechai, what’s going on?”

 

Eunuch Yu stepped forward and explained: “Actually… this is something created by the Seventh Prince. He distributed some among the palace attendants who take care of him in Zichen Palace.”

 

“That boy?” Emperor Chongzhao raised an eyebrow. “Who else did he give it to?”

 

“The Empress at Fengwu Palace, Consort Xuan at Shunning Palace, several princes in the study hall, and Tutor Fang all received some.”

 

“He only gave it to people he knows,” Emperor Chongzhao remarked.

 

“Indeed,” Eunuch Yu confirmed.

 

After answering, Eunuch Yu fell silent again. Emperor Chongzhao shot him a side glance and thought to himself how increasingly unperceptive this old eunuch was becoming.

 

Clearing his throat deliberately, Emperor Chongzhao asked: “Where’s mine?”

 

“Uh…”

 

Eunuch Yu stammered awkwardly.

 

Prince Ming perked up with interest: “What’s there to hesitate about saying?”

 

Eunuch Yu coughed lightly before explaining: “The Seventh Prince said… Your Majesty told him before that you don’t like drinking hot tea.”

 

Emperor Chongzhao: “……”

 

Prince Ming froze for a moment before bursting into laughter so hard he doubled over. “Oh dear! Royal Brother—this isn’t my nephew’s fault; you’re the one who said it!”

 

At that moment, Emperor Chongzhao’s inner thoughts aligned perfectly with those of the consorts in the harem who hadn’t received any of the new drink—he could easily command someone to bring him some right now if he wanted to—but his pride wouldn’t allow it.

 

He had always been accustomed to others giving him face and offering him an out—when had he ever taken initiative himself?

 

Glancing at Prince Ming shamelessly sipping away in front of him, Emperor Chongzhao remarked dryly: “Anyone who didn’t know better might think your princely residence couldn’t afford to feed you anymore.” Suddenly remembering something else, he asked: “Where did he get the tea leaves for this drink?”

 

Eunuch Yu replied cautiously: “From your private collection.”

 

Recalling how his youngest son had brazenly taken his incense burner earlier, Emperor Chongzhao felt an ominous sense of foreboding creeping over him. “…Where exactly did he take them from? And how much did he take?”

 

“All of your treasured tea cakes were taken to the main kitchen.”

 

The hand holding Emperor Chongzhao’s memorial trembled slightly.

 

“All… all of them?!”

 

Bang!

 

He slammed his desk with force and growled: “He used up all my treasures—and didn’t even save me a single cup?! Yu Dechai! Go tell the main kitchen to make another batch—all of it must be sent here immediately!”

 

After slamming his desk in frustration, Emperor Chongzhao quickly regained his composure. Though inwardly heartbroken over his lost tea cakes, he acted as though everything was perfectly reasonable as he turned smugly toward Prince Ming’s stunned expression.

 

“My tea—how could I not drink it? Wouldn’t you agree?” he said matter-of-factly.

 

Prince Ming was utterly speechless.

 

“Royal Brother… you really are…”

 

As expected of an emperor—his ability to adjust his pride on demand was truly impressive.

 

—

 

Elsewhere

 

Qu Dubian left whatever tea cakes remained at the main kitchen.

 

Since they belonged to the Emperor originally—and given that the main kitchen had recently undergone strict inspections—they wouldn’t dare misuse them.

 

He walked toward a small pavilion and instructed Wen Xiaochun to place one reserved portion of milk tea on the stone table there.

 

“Your Highness,” Wen Xiaochun asked curiously, “why leave it here?”

 

Qu Dubian replied casually: “It’s for Big Black Moth.”

 

Big Black Moth?

 

Ye Xiaoyuan suddenly remembered—it was what His Highness had called someone days ago when demanding their presence. Apparently referring to one of His Majesty’s shadow guards who had saved him.

 

But shadow guards? How could they possibly accept milk tea from His Highness?

 

Still—they didn’t discourage their little prince’s enthusiasm; after all—it showed kindness and gratitude toward someone who had helped him.

 

Qu Dubian checked his distance from Yi Shi’er: [5 meters]

 

Very close—so Yi Shi’er must have heard what he said just now.

 

Do shadow guards even drink milk tea?

 

Without looking back or waiting for confirmation, Qu Dubian left the milk tea behind and walked away without turning around once.

 

The pavilion was quiet, with the palace attendants who had been cleaning having already left the area.

 

A shadow suddenly appeared in front of the stone table.

 

Yi Shi’er, still wearing half a mask, hesitated as he reached out to touch the milk tea on the stone table. The slightly hot sensation made him instinctively withdraw his hand.

 

A few seconds later, he picked it up again and, taking the milk tea with him, disappeared from the pavilion.

 

Shadow guards, of course, weren’t allowed to drink milk tea while on duty.

 

But he wasn’t a shadow guard anymore.

 

[Name: Yi Shi’er

Favorability: 5]

 

Far away, Qu Dubian heard the notification. With his hands clasped behind his back, he looked up at the sky.

 

The favorability levels of those he could interact with felt like slow-growing vines. Every small increase was a source of satisfaction.

 

Yi Shi’er returned to his quarters.

 

After leaving his role as a shadow guard, he had been stationed at the martial training grounds as an instructor—a temporary place to recover from his injuries. His wounds had been severe, and the lingering scent of blood would have disturbed the Seventh Prince. Thus, Yi Shi’er had stayed away, planning to wait until he was fully healed before appearing again.

 

Every three days, different shadow guards would deliver his antidote.

 

Upon returning this time, Yi Shi’er noticed another bottle of medicine on his table. He poured out a dose and swallowed it quietly before tending to his wounds. After changing his bandages, he pulled out a storybook from under his pillow.

 

Spreading it open to where he had left off last time, he read while sipping milk tea.

 

After a while, he said softly: “Still here? If you want some, I can share.”

 

The shadow guard who had just delivered the antidote and hadn’t yet left froze in place.

 

“……”

 

“……”

 

Who was envious? What’s there to brag about? How infuriating!

 

With that thought, the shadow guard turned and left without another word.

 

—

 

A few days later, milk tea became a sensation in the imperial palace. As they say, when those at the top enjoy something, those below follow suit. Even though Emperor Chongzhao insisted on not drinking hot tea, he added ice cubes to his milk tea during winter—staying true to his preferences.

 

Qu Dubian generously shared the recipe for milk tea. It was simple enough that even if he hadn’t shared it, others would have figured it out eventually.

 

The consorts in the harem took this new drink and turned it into an art form, showcasing Great Zhou’s creativity when it came to food and drink.

 

Various flavors blossomed like flowers in spring.

 

Qu Dubian tried many of these new variations.

 

In the offices of the Six Ministries and other departments, a small milk tea stall was eventually set up by imperial decree. Each cup was sold for just a few copper coins—mainly for convenience rather than profit.

 

Two-tenths of the earnings were allocated to Qu Dubian.

 

While Qu Dubian found it surprising that his cheap father had thought of him—it felt like seeing the sun rise in the west—he didn’t particularly care about the money. He didn’t lack funds and didn’t have much need for spending anyway. If he ever needed something, he could always “borrow”… no… take from Zichen Palace’s supplies.

 

Gradually, this trend spread beyond the palace into civilian life.

 

Naturally, even Emperor Chongzhao’s shadow guards became aware of it. However, being professionally trained individuals, they never let their desires get the better of them—not even for a sip of milk tea.

 

They were blades hidden in darkness for their emperor; from the moment they chose this path as shadow guards, emotions like desire were meant to die within their shells.

 

After completing their routine training reports one day, the shadow guard commander addressed them: “Very good. But if anyone is caught sneaking off to buy milk tea—don’t expect me to show mercy.”

 

From within their ranks came a quiet voice: “Reporting to Commander… someone has already drunk it.”

 

The commander frowned sharply; his tone turned cold: “Who?”

 

If someone couldn’t resist such minor temptation, they had no place among shadow guards—how could they be trusted to ensure His Majesty’s safety?

 

The shadow guard who delivered antidotes replied: “It was Yi Shi’er. I saw him drinking it while reading a storybook.”

 

“……”

 

“……”

 

A long silence followed.

 

Finally, the commander said disdainfully: “He’s just babysitting now—what does he know about being a shadow guard?”

 

 

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