Chapter 4
Empress Fu was deposed.

You heard this news at a “Yizhou Friends Circle” gathering—sorry, you don’t even know why there’s a friends circle. It started because you married the hotshot strategist Zhuge Liang. Your sister-in-law summoned you, and you had to deal with a bunch of noblewomen’s flattering tests and all sorts of absurd, impractical requests. A few months later, the Yizhou noblewomen had already figured out Zhuge Liang’s attitude toward you, so your status plummeted. By now, you could quietly enjoy your desserts like an invisible person and eavesdrop on their gossip—just skip the tea; you could never get used to the oil- and salt-laced brew here.

In distant Yizhou, the palace intrigues seemed mysterious. Why was Empress Fu deposed? It was said Lady Dong was also deposed due to pregnancy. It seemed Chancellor Cao didn’t want other consorts to bear sons, so he sent his daughter into the palace. Then, which Cao woman would bear the next emperor?

You silently nibbled your snack, thinking the next Han emperor probably wouldn’t be in anyone’s womb here. Since a Wu envoy had arrived a few days ago, he was likely busy squabbling with them.

“What do you think, Ah Chi?”

What? You’re not Yuanfang. What could you possibly “think”? Were you supposed to discuss with these noblewomen—busy gossiping about clothes, husbands, children, and living a more extravagant life—about Cao Cao’s failed unification of the Central Plains and his secret plans to usurp the throne?

After some thought, you just gave a mysterious smile.
“How can twenty years as emperor compare to Lu’s Mo Chou?”

Everyone looked at you. Oops—you forgot the first famous person to write a seven-character poem was Cao Pi…

“Ah Chi, where’s this from?”

From a Southern Dynasties Yuefu poem? That’s nothing. You quickly mashed together lines and ideas from Li Shangyin, Xiao Yan, and Bai Juyi, and told them a story about the Zhou king’s obsession with beauty. No wonder Bai Letian is impressive—The Song of Everlasting Regret is way easier to memorize than the Memorial on the Expedition!

When you described Yang Guifei’s natural beauty, the noblewomen all smiled confidently; when you mentioned her siblings receiving lands, everyone had looks of admiration.

“If only one could be like Lady Yang, what more could one wish for in life?”

You sneaked a glance—it seemed to be some Lady Du. Fine, your brain can’t hold all these Yizhou locals. But the first half of The Song of Everlasting Regret, with its “slow songs, gentle dances, and soft zither strings,” really appealed to them. So when you reached “The drums of Yuyang shake the ground, shattering the Rainbow Skirt and Feathered Robe dance,” the aunts and elder sisters were utterly shocked!

“And then?”
“And then,” you, Chi·Shan·Ruth·Liu, felt genuinely happy, “it’s past midday already, sister-in-law, Ah Chi has to head home now.”

The next gathering would be in half a month, meaning The Song of Everlasting Regret was enough to keep you, an introverted child, busy with social obligations for a month and a half.

“So,” Lady Wu, with her spring-like brows and autumn-water eyes, leaned gracefully on the couch, showing warmth as she gestured for you to sit near her, “then? What happened to Lady Yang?”

You glanced at her belly and broke into a cold sweat.

You hadn’t heard that Empress Wu had borne any princes! Was this some kind of setup?! Surely it was! You had no desire to recount tragic stories of doomed beauties in front of a sentimental, pregnant woman.

Should you change your approach?

No! You wouldn’t! Even if it hurt your BE-loving pride, you couldn’t rewrite Xiangshan Jushi’s The Song of Everlasting Regret into a HE. Besides, you couldn’t improvise a better ending on the spot. So, carefully, you recited from “The king hid his face, unable to save her, looking back, blood and tears flowed together” all the way to “Endless years of life and death apart, her spirit never entered my dreams” by the time the lamps were lit…

You didn’t know whether you or Lady Wu were the bigger masochist—she cried while urging you on, and you shivered as you continued reciting.

“Madam… what’s wrong with you?”
A voice of shock came from behind, and you hurriedly stood up, seeing your “cheap dad” and the lifelong rival of your male god—Liu Xuande, the current Governor of Yizhou—looking at you both with an indescribable expression.

“Husband…” Lady Wu sobbed aloud.

Your knees went weak, and you collapsed to the ground with a plop.

………………

“Ah, is there a new poem to pass down?” Liu Bei, clearly intrigued, had a servant bring over a round stool and sat down. “What is it like? Chi’er, can you recite it from the beginning?”

Forget that.

“My lord, it’s already past lamp-lighting time…” you said cautiously, “and the madam is pregnant—she shouldn’t be listening to such sorrowful words now…”

Your lord seemed to realize this and kindly called a servant to escort you out of the residence. Lady Wu’s eyes showed she wanted you to stay, but even with courtesy observed, you were still a junior to the lord, and she a married woman—spending the night there would surely spark strange gossip. So, wiping her tears, she choked back sobs while having a maid pack a box of snacks for you.
“Chi’er, tomorrow morning I’ll send a carriage to pick you up…”

…You were about to decline, but your lord came up with a delightfully mischievous idea. “Chi’er, why don’t you recite the new poem to Master Zhuge, and he can recite it back to me—how about that?”

…Where’s Lu Xun when you need him? Someone get a sword!

Reciting the same poem to a noblewoman and to Zhuge Liang feels completely different.

To the noblewoman, you feel a smug sense of outsmarting her; to Zhuge Liang, it’s a constant terror of your intellect being crushed. You watched nervously as your male god ground ink, spread paper, picked up his brush—and then, just a few lines into your recital, he suddenly asked,

“Where is Huaqing Pool?”

“I heard there were hot springs at the foot of Lishan in the Zhou era, but whether they still exist now is unknown,” you said, bracing yourself.

He glanced at you.

Slightly…
It was a little unexpected. You braced yourself and continued reciting up to the “Spring Night” section. The male god didn’t frown, interrupt, or scold you; he just pursed his lips and smiled slightly. Apparently, no matter the dynasty, people always had their share of risqué poems, and he was well acquainted with them.

But when you reached the lines about “the drums of Yuyang shaking the ground,” you knew the real test had begun.

He asked question after question—first about the location, then the route, and finally why the rebellion happened. You gritted your teeth, firing up your mental CPU to recall Tang Xuanzong’s escape route, when suddenly he left.

Did he give up on you? Was he thinking—

Nope. He came back with a map.

Your feather-fan-and-silk-capped male god spread out a map on the table—one you couldn’t make heads or tails of—and eagerly asked you to trace the exact battle route between the “Zhou Emperor” and the “rebels.” You looked at his shining, focused face and genuinely wanted to stab your lord.

Drawing on the scraps of historical knowledge you hadn’t completely forgotten, you cautiously walked through it: the “rebels” rose in Fanyang, advanced to Tongguan (he seemed thoughtful), were blocked, while the inept “Zhou Emperor” first executed two loyal generals (you especially emphasized one was handsome; he didn’t comment), then sent an old general to defend the pass—unfortunately, the old general was betrayed by the emperor as well. Eventually, the capital fell, the army was routed westward, and at Mawei slope (you had no idea where it was, so you just gestured vaguely), Yang Guifei was executed, and the emperor fled into Sichuan.

Incidentally, you noticed he was completely unmoved by Yang Guifei’s death—the part that would make Empress Wu cry buckets—and he recounted it cheerfully as he wrote, which made you feel distinctly annoyed.
After nearly stumbling over the lines “the envoy of the Han Emperor is heard of” and “not seeing Chang’an but seeing the dust and mist,” you finally managed—barely—to recite the entire Long Song of Everlasting Regret. Hooray! But then, out of nowhere, the male god spoke again.

“So Zhou already had the Hongdu Gate. It seems many things remain the same through the ages.”

What? Has he suddenly turned into Kong Rong? Or did you mess up again?

You stared at him, thinking, “Fine, do whatever you want.”

Fortunately, your male god isn’t the type to push people to the brink. He just made that one calm remark and let you off the hook. Next time, maybe stick to telling the noble ladies stories about domineering CEOs.

Thus, the Long Song of Everlasting Regret, written by some unknown talent from Shu and memorized in full by you, a sheltered noblewoman, came into existence… Apparently, the prince liked it and even gave a copy to the Eastern Wu envoy as a gift—but clearly, the envoy wasn’t really interested, so he left rather displeased.

Speaking of the Eastern Wu envoy’s mood… who cares? Except, of course, your male god. Everyone else in Ji Han is probably grinning like maniacs.

Why doesn’t your male god laugh along? Because the person who arrived was—his elder brother.

Oh, and by the way, the Eastern Wu envoy also brought your male god a gift… he’s going to be a father!

Your maid completely freaked out.
Madam Huang was the male god’s first wife from his youth. Now in her thirties, their ten-plus years of marriage had produced no children, and since he had no interest in taking concubines, it was perfectly normal for them to consider adopting an heir.

But now there’s you—and that’s not normal! Your maid shouted, revealing your true age:

“Milady is fifteen, in the prime of youth! The strategist is being too harsh!”

Fifteen by nominal age, you were struck like a bolt of lightning.

Looking on the bright side, you could still grow taller! Using the Later Han standard of 23 cm per chi, your target height was at least seven chi.

Regardless, none of your knowledge had prepared you for the “underage female facing the childbirth challenge” scenario—especially not in the Three Kingdoms era, where the difficulty level skyrocketed to hellish proportions.

So you quickly silenced your maid’s protest and happily decided—you would go prepare a gift and meet little Zhuge Qiao! Who wouldn’t want to see a child you could gain without even attempting the childbirth challenge?

“No.” The male god said firmly.

“?????”

Seeing your eyes filled with huge confusion, he hesitated briefly, unsure how to explain. In the end, he firmly told you that Zhuge Qiao was being raised by Madam Huang. You were not only forbidden to visit him, but if you wanted to pay respects to Madam Huang, you had to notify them in advance.
…Do you really look like a villainess side character?

All your thoughts were immediately suppressed. After all, the male god didn’t bring you along when he went to see his elder brother and adopted son. But he was considerate—he thoughtfully brought you back a pair of porcelain vases. Although the style was rather plain, they were expensive and rare celadon, highly prized at the time.

After you accepted the gift, thanked him, and instructed your maid where to place them, you noticed that during the evening meal, the male god was unusually quiet and didn’t eat much. Normally, he would chat with you while here, but being a 1.85-meter adult male, he usually had a healthy appetite—and he wasn’t preoccupied at this moment—so your curiosity got the better of you.

“Madam worries for me today,” he said softly, putting down his chopsticks and smiling gently. “My elder brother departs Sichuan today. Ever since I left Xuzhou, I have not been reunited with my closest family, hence the sigh.”

Theoretically, since you also know what it’s like to be apart from your father, you sighed along with him. Then, carefully picking up a piece of honey-glazed roast meat for him, you cautiously asked, “Sir, are we going to war with Eastern Wu?”

His gaze shifted suddenly from the meat to your face. At the mention of “war,” it was the first time you noticed he could look at someone with that cold, sharp brilliance! But the look vanished almost immediately. He even picked up a piece of roast meat for you, his tone puzzled: “Madam, why do you say this?”

“Well… I overheard my father talking before. Perhaps some strategist said it to him,” you blinked, pretending to recall. “He said that as long as Eastern Wu cannot take Jingzhou, they cannot rest easy, and therefore cannot truly be Liu Yuzhou’s ally.”
“Who said this? Does madam remember the name of that strategist?” The male god was clearly interested, but how could you answer? Say it was the opinion of some librarian? You thought for a moment, then suddenly remembered some unlucky fellow who never enjoyed the fruits of victory because he was executed by your “cheap” father.

“My father spoke with a scholar. I did not hear the details, but from behind the screen, his appearance was quite distinctive.”

Alright, the male god got it. He looked thoughtful and sighed, “Zhang Ziqiao, such talent… I cannot compare.”

After the meal came music time. Even though you didn’t understand the pieces, in front of such beauty, you obediently sat beside him listening for a while—until he suddenly spoke again.

“If I were to raise troops, would madam be afraid?”

“No,” you answered firmly. He turned to look at you.

“When my father lived in Yizhou, he could survive; now that he’s gone to Jingzhou, there’s no danger,” you said honestly, meeting his gaze. “Who would want to kill such an honest man?”

“…………”

The male god was momentarily speechless. Rejoice!