How do you monopolize the Emperor in the imperial harem?
LOL, I don't even have to try.
Because I spend every waking moment glued to the Emperor's side. I even have to time how long he and his consorts spend doing... that during their overnight visits.
Doesn't that sound kind of... perverted?
Here's the thing: I'm the Imperial Recorder. My job is to document every word and deed of His Majesty's daily life. The perverted parts? All in a day's work.
Oh — to be fair, not all of it is that perverted.
Every morning I scramble out of bed like my next reincarnation's on a schedule, throw myself together, then bolt to the Emperor's main sleeping chamber. Paper and brush in hand, I shadow him within three paces — documenting every single thing he does inside the inner palace. Every word. Every gesture. Even how many times he passes gas. Into the record it goes.
For instance, the Emperor might sigh to Chief Eunuch Li: "Concubine Li's breath has gotten quite strong lately. Tell the imperial kitchen to switch her to a blander menu."
Or, after reading some official's memorial, he might explode: "Has this moron been sweet-talked by his favorite concubine so hard his waterlogged brain's started boiling? What is this garbage?"
Every last word — I jot it all down in my trusty little notebook, not missing a single character.
Naturally, given the... special nature of my work, the Emperor and I have grown to loathe the very sight of each other. Well — mostly him loathing me.
In retaliation, he torments me with petty power trips. Like demanding I dress him in the morning, just because he woke up in a bad mood.
Is that even in my job description?
Chief Eunuch Li — robbed of his rightful duties — fixed me with a long, resentful stare.
I nodded cheerfully, bowed my head, and scribbled away at top speed: Ninth day — break in protocol. His Majesty ordered the Imperial Recorder to dress him.
"Wei Anzhi!" the Emperor barked. "Write one more character of nonsense and I'll wipe out your entire clan!"
* * *
Did he really think that threat would scare me?
LOL. My "nine clans" is literally just me.
My boozer of a dad died young. Mom raised me on her own, scraping by one day at a time. Both my parents had grown up as orphans surviving on other people's charity, with not a single relative to their names — which meant my mother worked herself half to death just to keep me in school.
In my first year as an official, she died of illness. She never got to see me make something of myself.
After I came back from mourning leave, the Ministry of Personnel had originally planned to park me in the Hanlin Academy as a decorative wall fixture. But then they noticed I was naturally missing a few screws, and the previous Imperial Recorder had just been wasted away to skin and bones by the Emperor's relentless torment. So they changed their minds.
"Your looks are remarkably refined," the official had told me. "Those eyes especially — they remind His Majesty of a tabby cat he used to keep during his days as Crown Prince. His Majesty will like you."
It sounded less like they were assigning me an official post and more like they were sending me off to be some seductive enchantress of a consort.
Shaking off the thought, I snatched the belt from Chief Eunuch Li's hands and cinched it hard around the Emperor's waist. "Your Majesty, suck it in — you seriously need to go on a diet."
The Emperor's chest heaved with a sharp breath. "Mind your own affairs! Look at your own waistline before you comment on mine."
Damn it, that's your fault, I fumed silently. You're the one who forced me to eat with you, just so you could hold it over my head and keep me from recording your real appetite in the Imperial Daily Records.
Of course, an Imperial Recorder dining at the Emperor's table was, technically, a capital offense if anyone found out.
But the Emperor's meals were so much better than whatever was in my official ration.
I'd grown up dirt poor. Everything tasted amazing to me. And I had a bad habit of stuffing my mouth with what was in my bowl while already eyeing what was still in the pot.
Just yesterday: I hadn't even finished gnawing my roasted lamb leg before I'd already spotted the braised pork trotters Chief Eunuch Li had just brought in. And I still needed to get in a few quick sips of the silver fish broth to wash it all down.
The Emperor had snatched the largest pork trotter with lightning speed, then took a moment to sneer at me: "Wei Anzhi, I have never once treated you poorly — so why is it that every time you eat, you eat like a starved refugee? A perfectly good face, wasted on a glutton."
* * *
Fuming, I cinched the belt tight and gave it one last vicious tug. "Your Majesty, since you think Concubine Li's breath stinks, maybe you should lead by example. Lay off the rich meats — otherwise one day the consorts will be holding their noses around you, and won't that be embarrassing."
The Emperor laughed. "You eat whatever I eat. What's the matter — tired of delicacies already?"
"Not at all, not at all," I said quickly. "Eat as much as you like, Your Majesty. Rich foods promote good health."
He laughed again, louder. "Wei Anzhi, you're such a nag. If I don't find you a decent match, I'd be doing that thick stack of Imperial Daily Records a disservice. What do you think of Vice Minister He's daughter?"
"Too delicate."
"General Lin's daughter?"
"Too fierce."
"Princess Jingyuan?"
I knew it. I knew he was saving that one.
I kept my expression perfectly neutral. "This subject is unworthy of such an honor."
"Worthy or not, I'll make the decree at morning court."
Son of a—
How was someone of the same gender supposed to marry a princess?!
If it weren't for my mother's desperate hope that I make something of myself — her refusal to let me be trapped in a woman's life, living out my days in a walking coffin — I never would have risked my neck disguising myself as a man to sit the imperial examinations and enter officialdom.
But I had to admit my mother was remarkably far-sighted. She had trained me from childhood to pass as a man. I had been serving as Imperial Recorder for nearly a year, and not a single person had suspected a thing.
I'm freaking awesome.
...But I was about to lose every right to feel awesome.
* * *
What's it like being relentlessly pursued by a princess of the realm?
Thanks for the invite. Currently at morning court. Marriage decree imminent. Extremely anxious.
Fortunately, matters of court governance fell outside my recording brief. Otherwise my brush would have written nothing but: It's over. It's over. It's over.
If the Emperor actually went through with this match, the princess would discover on her wedding night that her husband was missing a rather essential... component. My happy occasion would turn into a funeral real quick.
When business concluded, the Emperor fell quiet. The court fell quiet. Everyone knew this meant he had a major announcement.
Given Princess Jingyuan's cheerful greetings to all and sundry outside the main hall just moments ago, the odds pointed overwhelmingly to an announcement about the princess's marriage.
Which was to say: my death sentence.
The Emperor turned to look at me, one sharp brow lifted, eyes brimming with mischief.
I frantically rolled my eyes in every direction to express my wholehearted, full-body refusal.
He smiled and looked away. "Princess Jingyuan has rendered meritorious service through her prayers and devotions — she is hereby elevated to Grand Princess Jingyuan Yi, with a princess's residence granted to her. The heir of the Ping'an Marquis, for his valor in capturing criminals, is awarded one hundred taels of gold."
...What?
I trailed after the Emperor out of the hall in a daze, only to run directly into an equally dazed Princess Jingyuan.
She rounded on the Emperor: "Imperial Brother, you went back on your word!"
Then turned on me: "Wei Anzhi, you heartless, faithless—"
Hold on — we're not even that close, are we? You've been chasing me to force a marriage, and somehow I'm the heartless one?
The Emperor waved her off. "A forced pairing never works. Jingyuan, you have a greater duty ahead of you."
The princess gave a cold laugh. "A forced melon might not be sweet, but I'll wring the juice out of it anyway."
So violent. So scary.
I silently slipped into the shadow behind the Emperor.