Chapter 40: A Talent Worthy of an Imperial Preceptor!

Shangguan Liqian, currently being pinned to her chair and having her lips thoroughly mauled, could only think: “…”

It seemed the latter half of her previous sentence hadn’t registered with the Empress at all.

Feeling helpless, Liqian could do nothing but let the woman vent her frustrations against her mouth. It wasn’t until she was nearly breathless that Liqian finally pushed at the head still nuzzling against her.

“Think carefully,” Liqian gasped, her voice strained. “What else did I just say? If you can’t remember, I’ll… I’ll…”

Liqian bit her lower lip, struggling to come up with a credible threat. This woman was simply too much; Liqian knew she was no match for her in this particular arena of “conflict.”

Luo Wushuang had been pushed back, but she refused to let go, rubbing her face against Liqian before huffing out a response. “You’ll what?”

Did her sister want to bully her? Was her sister… even capable of that?

Seeing the mix of expectation and blatant skepticism in the Empress’s eyes, Liqian fell silent for a moment. Then, in a fit of embarrassed pique, she reached out and tweaked Wushuang’s ear.

“Think!” she commanded.

“Oh,” Luo Wushuang muttered, though her gaze never strayed from Liqian’s lips.

Sister is being naughty. Her mind isn’t on me at all. I really want to punish her, but I wonder if she’d allow it?

Left with no choice, Liqian used her hand to physically shield Wushuang’s eyes and then repeated her entire analysis. With her vision blocked, Wushuang’s sense of hearing sharpened, and this time, she absorbed every single word.

Finally, a flicker of genuine interest appeared on Luo Wushuang’s face. “What clever plan do you have, Sister? Tell me quickly!”

Liqian looked at her reaction and fell silent once more. “You actually intended to do it?”

Luo Wushuang shook her head, hiding nothing. “Not yet. But if they continue to be so blind to the situation, I might as well annex them sooner rather than later. It would save us the trouble of dealing with their constant unrest.”

Liqian nodded slightly, finding Wushuang’s reasoning perfectly sound, and proceeded to lay out her strategy in simple terms.

The gist of it was to settle the two foreign princes comfortably within the capital. Give them grand estates, bestow upon them gold and silver, and marry them to sensible, well-educated women from the local clans.

In a few years, once they had charming wives and young children by their side, their original ambitions would be mostly eroded. Only then would the Kingdom of Luo assist them in returning to their home countries to contest their respective thrones.

By that point, however, the forces they would rely on would all be Luo’s men. Even if they succeeded, they would only be granted titles as idle lords, kept in the capital as ornamental figureheads.

If they were obedient, all would be well.

If they were not, the solution was even simpler.

Strip them of their titles and prop up their young sons instead. A child would make for an even more “adorable” mascot.

With such figureheads living in the capital, the Empress could occasionally send them back to their ancestral lands for a “royal tour” to pacify the populace. Over time, there would be no more Baiyue or Western Regions—there would only be the subjects of the Kingdom of Luo.

After all, if even their Kings were living off the stipends of the Kingdom of Luo, any further rebellion would be seen as the height of ingratitude. Their own Kings, in a bid to prove their loyalty, would likely be the ones to punish any dissenters most severely.

As Luo Wushuang listened, her eyes grew brighter and brighter. She had no idea her sister possessed such profound political foresight.

Looking at Shangguan Liqian, who was waiting expectantly for her evaluation, Luo Wushuang praised her with total sincerity. “Sister, your talent is immense. You are truly a pillar of the state.”

Hearing the praise, Liqian knew her suggestion had merit. Being able to help Wushuang with state affairs put her in an excellent mood. She allowed herself a rare moment of playful pride.

“Worthy of being the Imperial Preceptor?”

Luo Wushuang played along, standing up and cupping her hands in a formal salute, bowing deeply. “I am willing to honor you as my Teacher.”

Seeing the Empress playing the fool before her, Liqian felt a spark of mischief. She coughed twice, adopting a mock-serious expression. “In that case, kneel and perform the formal rites of apprenticeship.”

The moment she saw the Emperor actually begin to lower herself as if to truly kneel, Liqian lunged forward. She grabbed the woman before she could finish the motion, pulling her back up with an expression of lingering shock.

“Stand up straight! If anyone saw that, the nine generations of my family would never know peace.”

She had only been joking; how could this woman take it so seriously? Even if Luo Wushuang indulged her every whim, Liqian didn’t believe she could ever truly accept a kowtow from the Son of Heaven.

Luo Wushuang’s reaction remained calm, as if she saw nothing wrong with it. However, at the mention of the “family,” her expression soured.

“Do you still care about those parasites, Sister?”

To this day, whenever the people or affairs of the Shangguan family were mentioned, Luo Wushuang became irritable.

Seeing Wushuang’s “I knew you still cared about them” expression, Liqian smiled faintly. She reached out to gently remove the Empress’s Phoenix Crown and spoke softly.

“It isn’t that I care, but there is no need to let them be truly implicated by me.”

Liqian’s words were gentle, but the glint in the depths of her eyes was razor-sharp. She knew the Shangguan family would not easily let go of a pawn like her—one who could bring them so much profit. They would surely try to contact her, demanding she continue to serve the family’s interests.

The letters the Shangguan family had been sending into the palace lately confirmed her suspicions. If she didn’t reply soon, the family would eventually decide to discard her. They might even cast her out of the clan to preserve their reputation.

Or, just like in her past life, they might use some high-sounding excuse to lure her out of the palace and then murder her in cold blood.

Liqian lowered her eyes slightly, hiding the cold sneer at the corner of her mouth. Kindness only invited bullying; she had no intention of being a “good person” this time. Therefore… she wouldn’t wait for that day to come. She would…

Luo Wushuang couldn’t tell if Liqian was being entirely truthful about her lack of concern, but she gave a solemn promise nonetheless. “Sister, do whatever you wish. I will always be your… support.”

Her train of thought interrupted, Liqian felt the sharpness in her gaze dissolve, replaced by her usual tenderness as she listened to the woman beside her. She smiled and replied, “Alright.”

The smile reached her brows, and Liqian was about to lead Luo Wushuang to the outer hall for a meal when a flash of insight struck her.

She thought back to the letters the Shangguan family had sent recently. First, Shangguan Wanqing had “accidentally” tumbled down the stairs and broken her leg. Then, Madam Shangguan had “accidentally” eaten something wrong, leaving her temporarily unable to speak. Finally, Lord Shangguan, who had been granted “special leave” to stay at home, had “accidentally” suffered a stroke and was now bedridden.

When she first received the news, Liqian hadn’t thought much of it, assuming it was another ploy to lure her out. But now, remembering that all these events happened after Wushuang had visited the Shangguan Manor with her, she began to wonder.

The Shangguan family members were indeed wicked, but retribution usually wasn’t this consistent or timely. Could this be Wushuang’s handiwork?

The more she thought about it, the more likely it seemed. Liqian decided to test the waters.

“The things I left behind at the Shangguan Manor… did the Secret Guards bring them back yet?”