Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio
“It is not possible now unless the Weis want Jing’er to become a laughingstock. People would despise Jing’er for simply marrying for wealth if the family of Wuma Jun’s mother is not the House of Wang in Langye.”
That would be as detestable as a noble house having their daughter marry a rich yet unrefined commoner for his fortune.
“Wuma Jun’s mother and Gu Min were called the Two Blossoms of Langye when they were young, so she is also a well-known and learned woman in Dongqing.” Liu She did not confirm the rumors directly. “The Weis may not think highly of Wuma and the royal family because they are inferior compared to the Wang house.”
Jiang Pengji sorted through her memories. Liu Lanting had never suspected that the rumors about the fourth prince’s birth were true. Although Jiang Pengji was unfamiliar with Wang family, she could tell they were as important as the Fengs.
“If his mother was as widely known as my mom, why would she agree to become an imperial consort?” The king would have granted her a position second only to the queen. What would a lady from the House of Wang, who was as famous as Gu Min, receive?
“I don’t know, but I am sure that Wuma Jun is the son of the Wang lady. That makes him a prince.” Liu She smiled with hints. “Though the eldest prince is next in line for the throne, his mother’s family lacks importance in the kingdom. Our Majesty is suspicious of him and avoids teaching him about matters in the court. Do you think an heir like him is going to be the next king?”
But Dongqing was reaching its end, so who cared anyway?
Still, Liu She’s clues led Jiang Pengji to a conclusion. “Wuma Jun is the King’s preferred heir?”
If that was the case, it would not be unreasonable for Wei Jingxian to marry him.
But Liu She shook his head. “Not really. Our Majesty feels insecure about his fourth son and has made several attempts to curtail the Wangs’ power. But all of his attempts were in vain.”
“...”
The minds of intellectuals were too complicated for her. And... why was her dad smiling so mischievously?
“Father, please explain everything to me.”
“Use your brain.” He said as he touched her hair.
This reminded Jiang Pengji of a comment by her audience: “It is so exciting to leave a riddle and then run away!”
As she suppressed her interest, she muttered, “I do not really want to know, okay?”
Why should she trouble herself with a dying family? They would enter a new era soon no matter what. Instead, she ought to ponder on how she could save Wei Jingxian from the impending storm.
Some stream viewers judged her attitude and said was too confident of herself.
Perhaps Wuma Jun was an ideal husband, and perhaps he was a perfect match for Wei Jingxian. Their marriage was never the host’s business. Who did she think she was? She was not Wei Jingxian’s mom!
Host V: “Didn’t Master Liaochen say I would fight for the king’s seat someday? No one can tell when the game will start or how long Dongqing will survive. At that time, I will spare no effort in ending the dynasty.”
She would eradicate all royal members to prevent their revenge. That would make Wei Jingxian a young widower if she married Wuma Jun, and Jiang Pengji did not want to see her weep.
For a moment, the audience lost their speech.
At last, a bullet screen shot across the screen.
Bufu Nilaidawoa: “Host, you are thinking too much.”
Maybe the viewer was right, but the kingdom was heading toward chaos. That was unquestionable.
Moreover, she knew herself. She had never been the submissive kind. Once a whirlpool began to form, she stopped following the rules and became part of the destructive force.
She grabbed a brush and put down two words on the paper. Her dominating manner and strong resolution could be discerned from the handwriting even by those who had never learned calligraphy. That was not a result of her calligraphy practice, but of her intense emotions that were expressed through the characters.
The moment she tossed the brush, she said with satisfaction, “Xu Ke, hang this in the study room.”
After what had happened by Wan River, Xu Ke complied whenever possible to avoid punishment from the unpredictable langjun. Yet when he approached the sheet, confusion stopped him in his tracks.
The writing was not artistic, but he could almost feel the bloodthirsty nature of his young master. The shapes were simple yet extraordinarily confident.
Bewildered, Xu Ke mumbled, “Mess... around?”
The audience was unable to recognize the ancient characters, which were more complicated than their simplified language. The wild presentation by Jiang Pengji made the words even more unreadable.
Bufu Nilaidawoa: “Oh my god! What do you mean? Mess with what or who?”
Jinnianni Naocanlema: “Of course with Zheng Bin or Wuma Jun. Zheng Bin will not stop after the previous slap in his face, and Wuma Jun wants to marry the host’s girl! Who could ever stand with that!”
Toudu Feiqiu: “Every time the host acts so authoritatively, I feel a thrill over my body.”
Xiyan: “Ding—You have obtained a Card of Peremptory Emperor!”
Zhecao Youdu: “Hahaha! Have you guys forgotten she is a girl?”
Sansasa: “Still... so manly! (Heart)”
Pindaokanni Juhuayoudu: “Sigh. I want to have the host over me, then I will exclaim: do not stop!”
Days of interaction had not adapted Jiang Pengji fully to the strange audience.
She poked the System and asked hesitantly, “Has the evolution of the human brain not been completed in that dimension?”
What was so special about “mess around”? That had always been the motto of Corps Seven for hundreds of years since she established the unit.
The System felt helpless. “Stop verbally abusing your audience. You simply do not understand their culture.”