AEOGA CH23

Hua Yan received her mission, and Lu Xuechao turned his gaze onto Lin Chanzhi, looking very much like he wouldn’t let a single one slip by.

Being stared down by the immortal-like Empress, Lin Chanzhi’s face flushed red. He lowered his head bashfully, unable to stop himself from feeling secretly nervous.

Will I be assigned some important mission, too?

He didn’t understand court politics, didn’t know how to fight wars, and lacked Hua Yan’s shrewd calculating skills. In daily life, he would even feel too embarrassed to bargain with people when buying things. If he were sent to do business, he would definitely lose everything and go bankrupt. Lin Chanzhi himself had no idea what he was capable of.

Lu Xuechao spoke, “Hua Yan knows how to blend incense. What skills do you possess?”

Lin Chanzhi trembled with anxiety, lowering his voice. “…This, this commoner is dull and foolish. I know nothing at all.”

The only thing he knew how to do was farm. Carrying a hoe to labor in the fields, watching seeds sprout and bear fruit under his hard work—that brought him heartfelt satisfaction and joy. But because of this labor, he often ended up covered in dirt and grime. His younger stepbrother would constantly mock him, saying he disgraced the Lin family.

Adding to that, his father deeply despised this hobby of his, deeming it unpresentable. Thus, Lin Chanzhi didn’t dare speak of this specialty, terrified that the Empress would also find it low-class.

Lu Xuechao wasn’t surprised to hear this answer; this child had truly been thoroughly misled and brainwashed by the Lin family. Long before noticing Lin Chanzhi’s anomalies, Lu Xuechao had investigated his background inside out.

Lin Chanzhi was, quite frankly, a pitiful soul.

His biological father was the only son of a wealthy farmer surnamed Tian. For generations, the family had made a living through farming, achieving wealth through sheer diligence. They had accumulated houses and fertile land, making them one of the top wealthy households in the local area. His biological father was a chenghuan (a male capable of bearing children) who fell hopelessly in love with a poor scholar surnamed Lin. He married him with a countless amount of dowry, which was considered marrying down.

Yet, the poor scholar held himself in high regard, believing that “all trades are low, only scholarly pursuits are high.” While greedily consuming the Tian family’s wealth, he simultaneously looked down on his wife for being uneducated and only knowing how to farm. He arrogantly believed that he was the one marrying down and loathed it when others said he climbed the social ladder through the Tian family, treating his first wife with utter disdain.

Supported by the Tian family’s financial backing, the scholar passed the imperial examinations and became a minor official. This only made him feel more strongly that his first wife was unworthy of him. On the night his first wife died of a difficult labor, he stayed in his concubine’s room and didn’t even bother to visit. Before the first wife’s bones could even turn cold, he swiftly elevated the concubine to the legal wife—who became Lin Chanzhi’s stepmother—and completely usurped all of the Tian family’s properties. It was a textbook case of absorbing a deceased wife’s estate.

Toward his son from the original wife, Lin Chanzhi, the father felt absolutely no affection. He grew to detest him even more upon discovering that Lin Chanzhi also loved farming. The father was indifferent, while the stepmother, fearing Lin Chanzhi would fight her own son for the family fortune, tormented him relentlessly. She skimped on his food, clothing, and shelter, subjecting him to constant scoldings, raising him to be timid and cowardly.

Despite growing up in such a terrible environment, Lin Chanzhi turned out to be upright in character, never becoming cynical or resentful of the world. He had discovered a copy of the Guide to Farming and some seeds within his biological father’s dowry. From then on, he awakened his innate talent for agriculture. When his stepmother refused to let him eat his fill or dress warmly, he grew his own vegetables and cotton, becoming self-sufficient and living quite comfortably anyway.

In the “Consort Route” of the game, if players wanted to capture the Emperor’s heart, they had to capture his stomach first. Xie Chongjin had eaten dishes made by Lin Chanzhi, and the flavor was indeed superior to the imperial palace delicacies. The only other person whose cooking had elicited such a reaction from him was Lu Xuechao.

Of course, because he hated the player to the bone, Xie Chongjin had been unwilling to offer many compliments no matter how delicious it was. Truth be told, Lin Chanzhi’s culinary skills and recipes were quite ordinary—completely uncomparable to Lu Xuechao’s—but the unique factor lay entirely in the ingredients. Those ingredients were grown by Lin Chanzhi himself, yielding an exquisite texture and taste.

Xie Chongjin couldn’t help but think: Lin Chanzhi’s ingredients paired with Lu Xuechao’s recipes… Under the heavens, there was probably no one who could refuse such a delicacy.

A business opportunity. A massive business opportunity.

“Oh?” Lu Xuechao’s tone rose slightly. “But this Palace has heard that Master Lin enjoys agriculture.”

…Who did he hear that from? They probably ran a dedicated background check, Helian Xi grumbled internally.

Lin Chanzhi’s mind went entirely blank. His father’s contempt, his stepmother’s abuse, and his brother’s mockery instantly flashed through his ears.

“The Lin family is a scholarly clan. How did we end up with someone like you who loves digging in the dirt? What a disgrace to our reputation.”

“An unpresentable creature, exactly like your deadbeat father. My son will pass the imperial exams in the future, while you can only farm for the rest of your life.”

“What is that country bumpkin doing again? Fertilizing? Ugh, isn’t that just manure? How disgusting, I need to go throw up.”

Hearing such words so often, Lin Chanzhi had also come to believe that he really was a bit rustic and completely out of place among aloof scholars. The Empress looked like an immortal who didn’t consume the food of mortals, and he was the genius top scorer of the imperial exam revered by scholars worldwide. Although this immortal opened his mouth to talk about vulgar matters of money, his face was simply too ethereal; that divine aura could not be washed away.

Lin Chanzhi subconsciously didn’t want the Empress to look down on him: “It’s just for fun. It can hardly grace the halls of refined society.”

Lu Xuechao disapproved. “The people regard food as their prime heaven. How could it possibly fail to grace refined society?”

Wang Yiming couldn’t help but chime in excitedly, “Among the four classes—Scholars, Farmers, Artisans, and Merchants—farmers rank second! If that’s unpresentable, wouldn’t we merchants have no face left to live in this world?!”

Lin Chanzhi was left speechless. It was just that back in the Lin family, he truly had been at the absolute bottom.

“The national treasury is empty. The gold and silver obtained from seizing properties will be prioritized for relieving disaster victims, so the inner palace must naturally be more frugal,” Lu Xuechao stated. “Since Master Lin knows how to cultivate land, you will be granted a plot of land to grow fruits and vegetables and raise some chickens and ducks. This will save the palace the expense of purchasing ingredients.”

Helian Xi: “…”

Though Changli is poor, it surely hasn’t devolved to the point where even the imperial palace can’t afford to eat, right? Aren’t this Emperor and Empress a bit too stingy?

Yet, Lin Chanzhi was profoundly grateful: “Thank you, Empress!”

He loved farming. Being able to grow food for everyone and contribute his own strength made him incredibly happy.

Helian Xi completely failed to comprehend this. Why is the one being exploited looking so ecstatic instead?

Glancing back at Lu Xuechao’s unchangingly gentle expression, Helian Xi suddenly shuddered. If he were a citizen of Changli, he would undoubtedly be bewitched by that face right now, willing to bleed and sacrifice his life for him.

Although Lu Xuechao had never done business before, he possessed a brilliant mind that allowed him to pick up anything rapidly.

Everything had to be done step-by-step. For Huamanlou to pivot its business model, transitioning into a restaurant was the most suitable first step. A brothel originally provided wine and dishes anyway, so transitioning into a restaurant was completely logical. If it suddenly transformed from a brothel into a pharmacy, people probably wouldn’t dare buy anything.

The most important elements for a restaurant were the recipes and the ingredients. There had to be exclusive, secret recipes—delicious enough to make diners crave them desperately and unable to find them anywhere else—for the business to thrive and endure.

Although Lu Xuechao had researched many new dishes to satisfy his own picky palate, the only ones who had ever tasted his cooking were his parents, Xie Chongjin, and himself—a total of four people. He didn’t know what the public’s tastes were like. He planned to let the palace servants taste them first, acting as guinea pigs for testing new dishes. If the feedback was good, the items would officially be added to Huamanlou’s menu.

Conveniently, Lin Chanzhi needed time to grow the vegetables, and Huamanlou needed time for remodeling. This period could be used to finish up the busy affairs of property seizures in the court before preparing for Huamanlou’s grand opening. Things had to be dealt with one by one.

After arranging Lin Chanzhi’s tasks, Lu Xuechao asked Wang Yiming, “Do you know how to keep accounts?”

Wang Yiming scratched his head. “Yes.”

His lack of academic achievement was merely because he had no interest in studying books; he could calculate ledgers incredibly fast and accurately. As the son of the wealthiest man, he had grown up listening to the click-clack of the abacus and had helped review his family’s ledgers. He did possess a bit of natural business talent.

Wang Yiming felt that inheriting the family business would have been the best outcome, but his father’s head must have been jammed by a door to force him into studying, which was utterly painful.

“Very well,” Xie Chongjin said. “Go help manage the accounts once Huamanlou opens.”

Wang Yiming’s eyes widened. “Then… this commoner is allowed to leave the palace?”

“Of course.”

As long as an official dismissal order wasn’t issued, these people were still imperial concubines in name. Without disappearing mysteriously, the game programmers couldn’t step in to fix them under the guise of correcting a bug. As for the concubines’ specific daily movements? Who could possibly police that?

Wang Yiming immediately agreed happily. The feeling was quite novel—he was actually doing work for the Emperor and the Empress. He didn’t think about whether helping Huamanlou manage accounts counted as betraying his own family enterprise. The Wang family was wealthy enough to rival the nation, holding a monopoly over various industries; how could they be shaken by a newly opened Huamanlou? He would just treat it as gaining experience.

With the concubines arranged one by one, the focus finally shifted to Helian Xi.

Helian Xi sat stiffly, straightening his posture slightly. He was the most difficult to place. The others could immediately obey Lu Xuechao because Lu Xuechao was essentially helping them achieve their ambitions. They didn’t feel exploited or used; they merely felt they had met their appreciative talent scout. Changli was their homeland, so they were naturally willing to pool their efforts to give Changli a fresh start.

Helian Xi was different. His dream was to return to the Xifeng Kingdom and serve his own country. At least for now, Lu Xuechao would definitely not release the tiger back to the mountain. No matter what request Lu Xuechao made, Helian Xi wouldn’t agree wholeheartedly. Working for Changli? To him, that was no different from treason.

But how do I decline politely? Helian Xi racked his brain. If he refused bluntly, he feared he might be dragged out and executed on the spot.

Fortunately, before he had to stress over an excuse, Lu Xuechao spoke up: “The Ninth Prince is a guest, and there is no reason to make a guest work. The chaotic state of Changli has made the Ninth Prince witness a joke.”

Helian Xi blanked out, quickly shaking his head. “I didn’t think it a joke at all. I must also thank Your Highness for…” He pondered over his wording, “…treating me with sincerity.”

Discussing Changli’s current situation and deployments right in front of him meant they truly weren’t afraid of him acting as a spy sent by Xifeng.

Lu Xuechao was naturally not afraid. Even if Helian Xi dared to send a letter, it would be intercepted by Xie Chongjin’s men the moment it was dispatched. Not hiding things from him was simply because it wasn’t necessary.

He understood Helian Xi’s stance. Changli and Yelang were mortal enemies, while Xifeng and Yelang were also bitter foes; the enemy of an enemy was a friend. Although they had fought a few times, and the current Empress of Xifeng couldn’t stand Changli, the next Empress Regnant—Helian Xi’s elder sister—held a neutral attitude. Whether they turned into friends or remained irreconcilable enemies depended entirely on how Changli treated Helian Xi.

Lu Xuechao had no intention of letting Changli antagonize Xifeng again, nor did he harbor any hostility toward this young prince.

Helian Xi’s emotions were highly complex. Lu Xuechao’s words were extremely respectful, treating him as a guest. In reality, he was a hostage prince who shouldn’t have received such courteous treatment. Knowing that their stances differed, the Empress didn’t force him to serve Changli either. All he could say was that the Empress of Changli possessed a truly noble character.

While breathing a sigh of relief, Helian Xi couldn’t help but feel a sudden sense of loss. This feeling where the entire harem had jobs while he alone was excluded and unemployed at home brought a subtle, rather melancholic mood. He was an outsider after all, which only made him miss his homeland even more.

After the group took their leave, only Xie Chongjin and Lu Xuechao remained in the room.

Lu Xuechao looked at Xie Chongjin. “Still angry?”

When Xie Chongjin first walked in, he was clearly suppressing a massive wave of fury. The last time Lu Xuechao had seen him this enraged was back when Xie Chongjin was the Crown Prince, uncovering a widespread child trafficking syndicate that implicated many.

Though Xie Chongjin had appeared wild and unbridled in his youth, his temperament was actually rather gentle. As royalty, he treated talented individuals with respect and won people over with virtue, showing respect to others. Even when he was forced by the game’s control to face others daily, he had never taken his anger out on the innocent. Having known him for so long, Lu Xuechao had rarely seen him lose his temper.

Of course, part of the reason was that Xie Chongjin would never throw a tantrum in front of Lu Xuechao. Back then, when Xie Chongjin ordered the execution of so many people, even Lu Xuechao had been taken by surprise. It was from then on that the impression of the young Crown Prince gained the label of being “decisive in killing.” Unless his bottom line was crossed, he would never choose slaughter.

“To say I am completely without anger would naturally be a lie,” Xie Chongjin sneered. “The Imperial Capital will likely see blood daily for quite some time.”

“So, Qingshu…” Perhaps realizing the topic was too bloody, Xie Chongjin shifted the conversation, his tone carrying a few hints of a spoiled husband seeking hugs and kisses. “How are you going to comfort your angry husband?”

Qingshu was always so reserved, rarely initiating a kiss. If he could manage to beg for a kiss, his anger would vanish instantly, and he would remain ecstatic for three days and nights.

“…” Lu Xuechao stared at him for a moment before replying coolly, “I wasn’t the one who made you angry.”

Xie Chongjin: “…”

If only Qingshu weren’t so dense to romance.

Xie Chongjin smiled helplessly and picked up the teacup on the table. Just as he was about to take a sip of tea to cover his awkwardness, his vision was suddenly blocked by a white robe.

Lu Xuechao leaned down, his eyelids halfway lowered as his dark hair cascaded down loosely. His red lips bit down on the opposite edge of the white jade cup, his picture-perfect face incredibly close. The two of them were biting the exact same cup.

Xie Chongjin froze, unconsciously letting go as his Adam’s apple bobbed.

Lu Xuechao straightened up with the cup edge still in his mouth, casually removing the teacup and placing it back on the table. “Do you love drinking the tea I’ve drunk from that much? It’s already cold. I’ll brew a fresh pot for you.”

Xie Chongjin watched him turn around to brew tea, his movements elegant and dignified, still maintaining the cool aura of an immortal.

Xie Chongjin couldn’t help but raise a hand to touch his lips, his fingers concealing a smile.

He really was pathetic—he hadn’t even gotten a proper kiss yet, but he already found the Empress absolutely enchanting.