Gong Yin sat down, but Yelu Qi remained standing.

Contrary to Gong Yin, his body was tense as he stared in disbelief at the direction the Yan Sha Army had departed.

Only he knew what kind of army the Yan Sha was. Though this army currently still obeyed the Yelu family’s commands, with generations of reproduction, the original blood ties had gradually weakened, and now the Yelu family’s control over this army was far less than before.

Therefore, toward these beasts, he was both intimately familiar and extremely wary. In his heart, he knew that in the situation just now, he would never have risked approaching any Yan Sha soldier.

More importantly, he understood the meaning of that gesture…

Yelu Qi seemed to see Jing Hengbo clearly for the first time, looking her up and down thoroughly once more.

Strange light flickered in his eyes. After a long while, he finally exhaled deeply, crossed his arms, and sat down.

In the crowd, that group of martial brothers was rarely silent. After a long time, Yi Qi finally let out a long breath.

His voice was full of confusion.

“Brothers, looking at this, that thing shouldn’t happen in the future…” he asked. “Did the old man miscalculate?”

…

Both State Preceptors suddenly returned to calm, as if even forgetting their previous dispute.

The others also lost interest in pursuing the matter, because Jing Hengbo hadn’t left the platform. She dragged her enormous skirt to the center of the platform.

“Your argument just now was completely unnecessary in my view,” she said, her words shocking like thunder.

“Oh?” Amid the buzzing discussions, Yelu Qi was first to ask.

“To dispose of me, confine me, secretly harm me—shouldn’t you ask my opinion first?” She pointed at her own nose, smiling lazily. “Did you consider that I might not agree?”

Everyone laughed.

“If you could pass the test at the welcoming ceremony, perhaps you’d be qualified to say such words,” an official said with a smile. “But now… hehe.”

Everyone else chuckled too.

“Hehe your sister.” Jing Hengbo pursed her lips. “Yes, I didn’t pass your test, but are your tests omnipotent? Can your tests really examine a queen’s true abilities?”

“Poetry, song, dance, music, chess, calligraphy, painting, martial arts, military strategy, classical studies, political theory,” Xuanyuan Jing said. “These encompass all learning under heaven. We’ve asked you about all of them today. Can you cite any other talents beyond these?”

“Yes!” Jing Hengbo declared firmly.

“Hehe! We’d love to hear the details!”

“First let me ask you—what should an emperor do well first?”

“Govern the country, stabilize the court, balance ministers, repel external threats and maintain internal peace,” Xuanyuan Jing said coldly. “And these abilities require the support of those basic capabilities I just listed.”

“How to govern? How to stabilize? How to repel external threats or maintain internal peace?”

“This old minister understands well, but I’m afraid if I explain it, I should be the emperor instead.”

A burst of malicious laughter.

“Idiot!” Jing Hengbo also laughed. “Dream on in your next life! You understand nothing!”

“Does Your Majesty think foul language will let you muddle through?”

“Speak to people according to what they deserve—you only deserve this tone.” Jing Hengbo didn’t yield an inch. “Governing the country, stabilizing the court, sending troops against enemies, pacifying subjects—in truth, it all comes down to accomplishing just one thing—”

She raised her voice: “Let the people eat their fill!”

The laughter throughout the venue stopped abruptly, as if cut by a blade.

“Am I wrong?” Jing Hengbo pressed Xuanyuan Jing aggressively. “Only when full can people pay taxes, only when full can the people’s hearts be stable, only when full will there be no internal rebellion, only when full will they have strength to fight others. Do you dare say that eating one’s fill isn’t most important!”

Everyone was speechless. Jing Hengbo’s words were simple, but the reasoning was sound. People’s livelihood had always been most important. Even if nobles present disagreed, thinking noble dignity or court rule was most important, they absolutely couldn’t voice such thoughts before these millions of common people.

The citizens in front had already heard this statement and immediately became excited.

“Right! Eating our fill is most important!”

“We want to eat our fill!”

“A thousand abilities, ten thousand abilities—anyone who can let us eat our fill is a good master!”

…

“Is Your Majesty trying to incite the people’s emotions?” Xuanyuan Jing said ominously. “How do you know our court hasn’t exhausted its efforts for the people’s sustenance? This has always been the primary concern. However, Dahuang is limited by natural geography. Though rich in gems and gold, we have thousands of li of wasteland, poor mountains and evil waters, little fertile land for grain, no arable soil for rice. Most swamps are completely useless, occupying land for nothing. Only one or two-tenths of the national land is cultivable. Where can we grow grain? Where can we find enough to eat?”

“What if…” Jing Hengbo smiled. “What if I could let the people eat their fill?”

The entire venue suddenly quieted.

Citizens who had disappointedly started to leave suddenly stopped.

Gong Yin’s teacup closed with a snap as he looked up sharply, hot tea nearly splashing on his hands.

Yelu Qi, who had been absent-mindedly watching the Yan Sha Army, suddenly turned around.

More people immediately burst into loud laughter.

“Hahahaha…” Xuanyuan Jing laughed loudly, looking around. “This sounds so familiar!”

“Indeed,” Sang Dong smiled gracefully. “It seems every queen upon ascending makes such grand vows. But so far, none has fully achieved it.”

“Perhaps our new Queen can do it?” Fei Luo appeared just then, smiling with pursed lips. “For instance, summoning divine birds from the void to rain down countless grains.”

Another burst of laughter.

The Grand Sage, who had been sitting aside with a stern face in anger, suddenly stood up, pointed at Jing Hengbo’s nose, and said sternly: “Don’t joke about this matter! Otherwise this old man will not forgive you!”

Seeing his iron-blue face, everyone showed understanding—this old man’s parents and brothers had all starved to death in a famine when he was young. His childhood was extremely miserable, and he made a lifelong vow that no one should die of hunger again. If anyone could achieve this, his family would serve as their slaves for generations.

But ultimately, grand vows were just grand vows. Swamps couldn’t grow rice and grain well—water often couldn’t be drained, they occupied too much area, and excessive filling would cause floods or droughts. Perhaps influenced by too many swamps, even much ordinary land couldn’t grow much. This was Dahuang’s eternally unsolvable problem.

“What joke!” The usually good-tempered Jing Hengbo suddenly raised her eyebrows angrily, waving her hand fiercely in the air. “Take down your claw—I hate most when people point at my nose!”

“If you continue spouting nonsense, it won’t be this old man pointing at your nose, but everyone demanding your life!” The Grand Sage’s snow-white eyebrows trembled with anger. “How can swamps grow grain!”

“If you can’t grow grain, aren’t there other methods? Is your brain rusted?”

“For hundreds of years, everyone has thought of countless methods. How dare you criticize randomly now!” The old man slammed his palm heavily on his chair. “Stop spouting nonsense here! This old man has words for you today—if you can solve the grain shortage, this old man will be your slave for life, at your command. If you’re just spreading false rumors to confuse people, I don’t care if you’re the Queen—I’ll be first to request your execution!”

“What use is having an old man as a slave? Would you serve me or would I serve you?” Jing Hengbo snorted disdainfully. “A bunch of narrow-minded fools! If swamp land doesn’t yield well for grain, why can’t you plant other things? Who decreed that only grain can fill stomachs? As long as it’s edible, anything can fill bellies, right?”

With these words, everyone fell silent.

One sentence broke through the thick clouds.

Mental conditioning is a strange thing. When no one breaks it, everyone thunders forward along that track. Once someone breaks it, people suddenly realize—ah, there’s another way of thinking, another way so simple, why didn’t we think of it originally?

The venue suddenly quieted. Regardless of their feelings toward the Queen, people’s livelihood was an extremely important issue related to regime stability. Quite a few people began thinking, some showing puzzled expressions, some standing up directly.

Gong Yin’s expression showed slight appreciation but no surprise. He had naturally thought of this point long ago, but Dahuang was limited by terrain and topography—agriculture wasn’t developed, and trials in swamps had never succeeded. If someone could clearly point out a path, it could at least shorten decades of exploration, bringing immeasurable merit to Dahuang.

Could this person be her?

“Your Majesty!” Someone shouted from far away. “What you say makes sense. Our master said this too, and many capable people in Dahuang have said this. My master even tried planting other species in certain swamps. He also tried raising fish, but fish were hard to keep alive. He tried growing vegetables too, with little harvest. Do you have any guidance?”

Jing Hengbo looked up—hey, that young man in the distance had a fair face and bright eyes, waving desperately at her. Wasn’t this Mr. Nail Polish?

Beside him were several other handsome men, each with distinct characteristics. Some crossed their arms coldly eyeing her, some propped their chins staring intently at her, some were also jumping—jumping even higher than Yi Qi while patting Yi Qi’s head downward.

Ha, were these the martial brothers with their jumbled numbers?

Seeing familiar faces, Jing Hengbo’s mood immediately brightened. Her face also lit up as she waved below: “Hi!”

“Hi!” Yi Qi’s learning ability was always strong.

“Hi!” The numbered martial brothers’ learning ability was even stronger—their loud unified shout startled surrounding citizens.

Jing Hengbo’s smile was radiant.

Gong Yin, who had been about to speak but was interrupted by this hi-ing back and forth, seemed to make a creaking sound with his teacup…

“Other fish are hard to raise!” Jing Hengbo shouted loudly. “You need more ferocious fish! Catfish would be best! They can eat rotting matter! And can improve the swamps!”

The Grand Sage suddenly looked up, his face twitching. Not caring who was beside him, he grabbed someone’s arm and urged repeatedly: “Quick! Quick, get paper and brush to record!”

The grabbed person cried bitterly: “Old master, loosen your grip, loosen it first!”

Without waiting for his instruction, Gong Yin had already risen, personally ordering agricultural officials to step forward quickly.

“Eating only fish can’t save lives,” Fei Luo sneered. “At most it can help some people add one livelihood. I’ve never heard fish can substitute for grain. Besides, too many fish would ultimately be useless and would destroy existing market balance.”

Everyone nodded—those who understood economics knew this principle. Proliferation of a single species wasn’t a blessing.

“Can you only raise fish?” Yi Qi asked the question everyone most cared about.

Jing Hengbo smiled happily. She’d guessed right—Dahuang indeed had capable people with broad thinking who knew that when swamps couldn’t grow crops well, they should turn to cultivating other species. But with so many species in the world, if they didn’t know which were suitable and which weren’t, trying them one by one—some things having long cultivation cycles—how much time and energy would that take?

What they needed now was just guidance, telling them which types were suitable. Naturally, biological chains would develop afterward.

“Many things can be planted. You’ve been trying to use swamps as land—wrong approach. Actually, treat them as special ponds. Dahuang doesn’t seem to have many water areas. Are you unfamiliar with aquatic products?”

“Dahuang has quite a few water areas, but because they’re concentrated and affected by environment, many have fierce water beasts. Citizens don’t dare approach easily, so aquatic products are rare, and no one dares try water-based products,” the Grand Sage immediately answered. The old fellow had forgotten his earlier bulging-veined anger, his expression very serious.

“So you must have missed many edible aquatic plants,” Jing Hengbo said. “When I entered Dahuang, I discovered reed artemisia by water, but apparently no one had ever harvested it.” Thinking of the fragrance of reed artemisia with dried tofu, she nearly drooled.

“Reed artemisia? What’s that?” Someone immediately asked.

Others had sudden realizations: “Is that the tender green grass? Some people wanted to try eating it, but there are often water beasts in the water. Everyone says these things are poisonous grass raised by water beasts—no one dares eat them.”

“Not a penny’s worth of relation to water beasts,” Jing Hengbo said. “Reed artemisia is just one type. Swamps can also grow water celery, water chestnuts, vegetable lotus roots. Oh, those segmented things. Lotus roots can make lotus root starch—nutritious and filling.”

Agricultural officials scribbled rapidly while instructing subordinates: “Immediately prepare a swamp area for trial planting!”

“I’m not finished,” Jing Hengbo said. “In watery parts of swamps, plant reed artemisia, vegetable lotus roots, water chestnuts, water celery. Raise fish. Dahuang’s soil quality is poor with few vegetables—this way dining tables have several more dishes. In swamp areas where water can be drained, plant mulberry trees. Mulberry trees bear mulberries—edible and medicinal. Mulberry leaves can feed chickens and ducks, raise silkworms. Raised silkworms can weave cloth, promoting textile industry development…”

Now not only agricultural officials were recording—more people began writing furiously. Those without brushes muttered and memorized, thinking. More and more people crowded below the platform, and soldiers forgot to maintain original order.

Food is the people’s heaven—this was the most basic survival condition. Beyond this, no greater temptation existed.

Cui Jie and the others also crowded below the platform, looking at Jing Hengbo even more incredulously. They’d been with Jing Hengbo long enough to have deeper impressions. They all knew that apart from her abilities, she didn’t love reading or thinking, though she was quite good at eating, drinking, and merrymaking. Not being able to answer earlier scholarly questions was normal. They’d only lamented that Da Bo was too bold, knowing she was incompetent yet still trying. Now hearing her speak eloquently, they felt like they were seeing a different person.

Cui Jie’s face was full of joy. Yong Xue held Er Gouzi, quietly saying to it: “Dawn is breaking!”

Jing Jun leaned against the box, staring up in a daze. Sunlight shone on her face, white as snow.

“…Mulberries can also brew wine, mulberry branches can grow mushrooms. The entire swamp can form a breeding biological chain. If willing, you could build sightseeing gardens for those money-rich, people-stupid officials to come spend summers. Under big trees fishing, in mulberry groves picking mulberries, in fish ponds pushing aside lotus leaves to gather water chestnuts and such. Then eating meals grown from water, completely additive-free farm food. You could name it Green Pastoral or Natural Oxygen Bar…” Jing Hengbo spoke eloquently.

The money-rich, people-stupid officials showed longing expressions, feeling this Green Pastoral was indeed desirable.

Gong Yin closed his eyes silently, calculating mentally. A staff member beside him had glowing eyes, quickly whispering in his ear: “State Preceptor, great joy! The Queen is learned! This is the most basic method of using swamps. Though what’s grown isn’t grain, as long as there’s output, it can be exchanged for grain. At minimum, Dahuang’s wasted majority of swamp territory would have use. Our swamps are mostly in the south with few in the north. Dahuang relies on northern wheat as main supply, even needing to trade gems with neighboring small countries for grain, often suffering losses and causing gem devaluation. Now with increased output for barter, gems can go to countries with better exchange rates like Da Yan and Dong Tang for more important horses and weapons. Calculating this, the benefits are endless…”

At this moment, Jing Hengbo was also speaking eloquently.

“I heard that whenever you encounter disasters, you can only trade gems and gold with neighboring small countries for grain. This easily leads to losses, and gems and gold devalue. In the future, you can trade output for grain. Take gems to other major countries for more valuable things. Gems are very valuable in grasslands and Da Yan…”

Under sunlight, the woman’s face was bright and beautiful, her eyes also sparkling like gems with light. This was wisdom’s radiance, illuminating the entire Dahuang sky.

After today, Dahuang would bathe in this moment’s virtue. The black, chaotic land would flourish with green vitality because of one woman’s arrival.

This would be a moment recorded in Dahuang history, carrying the distinctly brilliant and flamboyant aura belonging to Jing Hengbo.

Gong Yin’s lips curved in a faint smile.

She truly was—if she didn’t speak, fine, but once she spoke, she was astounding…

This woman who seemed bright but actually harbored countless mysteries and surprises—next time, what kind of fresh feelings would she give him?

“Ah, this is just a method for utilizing swamps,” Jing Hengbo shifted topics, lips curving up. “Actually, it’s not that great—at least you still can’t grow grain…”

“It’s already very good!” The Grand Sage lying below the platform was in tears, having long forgotten his earlier anger. “As long as the swamps wasted for hundreds of years can be used—even if only a small part can be used—Dahuang’s people’s livelihood will surely improve! Your Majesty, your merit is immeasurable!”

“I’m not finished yet…” Jing Hengbo helped the old fellow up with a smile. “Please sit properly—ah yes, sit properly. I’m afraid you’ll get excited and flip over later… Actually, I heard Dahuang’s soil quality also has various problems, causing low grain yields. This soil quality can actually be improved. For instance, overly acidic soil can grow alkaline crops like hairy vetch and rapeseed for adjustment. Alkaline soil should grow more alfalfa, sweet clover, ryegrass…”

Everyone was listening with fascination when she suddenly glanced around and stopped.

“Aiya, people are tired from talking.”

Actually, she wasn’t tired from talking—she’d forgotten. She wasn’t from a farming background—how could she remember so much?

Originally, in a flash of inspiration, she’d remembered there was a knowledge compendium in her box. Though most industrial sections couldn’t be realized, the agricultural section had improvement methods for various soils and planting methods for different soil types. She’d found the swamp chapter.

On the journey, she’d carefully searched and found many species that could be cultivated in swamps. Reed artemisia and mulberry trees were both discovered along the way. Dahuang wasn’t barren but was constrained by too many adverse conditions that limited its experimental power.

Combining modern agriculture’s wisdom explored through countless people’s experience, she’d made a perfect plagiarism. This was also why she dared bet with Gong Yin despite knowing her skill points were lacking, dared stake everything on accepting the challenge.

She believed that compared to flowery, useless poetry and military strategy, people’s livelihood concerning countless lives was the great issue—a temptation that even the greatest ambitious schemer or most shameless opponent couldn’t resist. Those unmoved by this would inevitably be overthrown by people’s anger.

“Ah, the Queen is tired!” The Grand Sage was first to jump up, personally moving his own stool. “You sit! You sit!”

The old fellow jumped up and down, his face red, as attentive as a student desperately needing the teacher’s mercy for a passing grade.

A crowd of people hastily and nervously pressed down the old man while someone quickly stepped forward to move the Queen’s throne.

Jing Hengbo looked at him somewhat apologetically—sorry, no matter how attentive you are, I’m not planning to continue now.

Trump cards couldn’t be revealed all at once—you had to save them for gradual fishing. Only this way could you preserve your position. She understood this principle very well.

“Too tired, can’t remember…” Under everyone’s extremely expectant gazes, she slowly turned and sat down, crossing her legs.

No one noticed her crossed legs—all stared at her bright red lips, waiting for the next sentence that would part the clouds and guide them to new paths of life.

Jing Hengbo yawned and drooped her head motionlessly.

“Please, Your Majesty, you must think carefully, you must think carefully…” A crowd of people with sweat beading on their foreheads crowded around the platform edge, staring at her hopefully.

“I say,” Jing Hengbo didn’t respond, flicking her bright nails and lazily saying after a while, “Do I count as having passed the test now?”

Before anyone else could answer, the Grand Sage jumped up as if pricked by a needle, repeatedly shouting: “Of course you pass! If this doesn’t count, what could!”

“Of course you pass!” The citizens’ voices were even louder. The Yan Sha soldiers standing far away had stripped off their armor again to show their muscles, carrying blades with murderous intent as they circled the venue—clearly ready to kill anyone who said she didn’t pass. Everyone knew that even though they came from the exile land of Black Water Marsh, that place of poor mountains and evil waters with year-round crop failures and corpses everywhere, they all depended on these descendants of criminals becoming soldiers and bandits to earn money and support their families.

The court officials and leaders of the Six Kingdoms and Eight Tribes remained silent. With public opinion like a tide, no one dared go against the current and be swept away by the angry flood.

“Oh…” Having completely gained the upper hand, Jing Hengbo could pass with just a nod, but suddenly she was in no hurry.

She sat comfortably, smiling as she wagged her finger.

“I thought the Queen’s welcoming ceremony required demonstrating some incredible talents. Who knew that before I’d even shown thirty percent of my abilities, you’d all tremble in awe and bow down in worship. Sigh…” She frowned with heroic loneliness and sighed deeply.

Everyone stared at her in amazement, not knowing what medicine she was selling in her gourd.

“Earlier, when I said I couldn’t do any talents, that was on purpose!” Jing Hengbo declared loudly. “I wanted to see just how ugly certain people’s faces could become!”

Certain people’s faces were very ugly indeed.

“Now I’ll let you truly witness what’s called otherworldly expertise and extraordinary talents!”

Jing Hengbo spun around and walked to the platform edge, turning her back to everyone while secretly reaching for her waist, pulling out an extremely delicate card-sized instant camera and gripping it in her palm.

The research institute wasn’t lacking in any high-tech products, and one maniac’s research direction was precisely lightweight portable technology equipment. When Jing Hengbo escaped, she’d brought the most of these things because she’d planned to sell them for money after getting out.

So the card-sized solar-powered instant camera in her hand was also an elite version unseen on the market.

“Now,” she turned around and said solemnly, “first let you witness the world’s greatest divine eye!”

The crowd stirred, someone calling loudly: “Divine eye? Your Majesty, surely you jest. How can such a thing exist in this world? In Dahuang’s early history, there was someone with extraordinary eyesight who could supposedly distinguish flies from three zhang away. Are you demonstrating such divine skills?”

“What skill is recognizing flies from three zhang away?” Jing Hengbo scoffed. “My divine eye sees movement! Sees what’s behind!”

The crowd erupted in discussion.

“Seeing moving things is one matter, but seeing behind? Eyes growing in the back of one’s head?”

“Impossible!”

“I am the heaven-appointed Queen, granted by the gods with the ability to perceive all things.” Jing Hengbo pointed to the sky with a sacred expression. “You can test me—place something behind me or do something, and see if I know!”

All the ministers turned their gazes to Gong Yin, who unhesitatingly waved his hand.

Jing Hengbo stood at the front of the platform facing everyone. Behind her, the Grand Sage personally carried something and carefully placed it on the altar table behind her, then carefully walked away.

Everyone held their breath and watched intently.

Sang Dong suddenly smiled and approached. Jing Hengbo watched her gait closely.

Sang Dong walked past Jing Hengbo and handed over a mirror, smiling: “Your Majesty’s hair seems disheveled. Would you like to tidy it?”

Jing Hengbo immediately closed her eyes and pushed away the mirror, sneering: “High Priestess Sang is so thoughtful. But I’m afraid if I look, seeing what’s behind me would be attributed to the mirror’s reflection.”

Sang Dong’s trick exposed, she didn’t get angry but looked at her with an ambiguous smile, whispering: “Your Majesty, know when to stop. Making us look bad won’t benefit you later…”

“Not making you look bad won’t make you treat me well either.” Jing Hengbo smiled more warmly than her, her voice lower and more venomous. “You menopausal, irregular-menstruating, endocrine-disrupted, adrenaline-spiking bitches live just to cause trouble, biting whoever displeases you, spreading rabies virus everywhere, affecting city appearance and polluting the air. How can we not deploy the dog-catching squad? Oh right,” she looked at Sang Dong’s increasingly ugly expression and smiled more gently, “you got one thing right just now—you said you look bad. Yes, you really do look bad. Hasn’t anyone told you that appearance reflects the heart? People full of conspiracies who spend all day jealous, harming others, and spewing venom will grow to look more and more like old bitches?”

“You…” Sang Dong’s face had turned almost the color of mulberry leaves, her lips trembling for a long time, wanting to curse but unable to, wanting to swallow but unable to. Someone who had appeared calm and elegant suddenly showed fangs, truly taking on a savage appearance.

In comparison, Jing Hengbo smiled so beautifully, her brows like paintings and face like blooming flowers.

If the other three from their group were here, they’d probably spit and say “Serves you right!”

Argue with Jing Hengbo? Asking for abuse!

This person was lazy and usually unwilling to argue. But if you provoked her, she absolutely had no limits. She wouldn’t be like Taishi Lan who respected her status and wouldn’t use dirty words, wouldn’t be like Jun Ke who was too honest and embarrassed to curse too harshly, and wouldn’t be like Wen Zhen who was slippery and only willing to insult people while hiding behind masks. She’d fight personally, attacking from all angles, greeting your entire family with her claws.

Sang Dong held it in for a long time, gripped the mirror tightly, and left without a word. Jing Hengbo chuckled.

She’d already recognized who Sang Dong was from her walking gait.

She was the snack seller from West Kang City’s snack street!

That middle-aged woman who greeted customers was her, and the hunched old man cooking was Xuanyuan Jing!

These two big-shot figures had personally appeared there at that time, disguised like that. Their target, needless to say, was naturally Her Puppet Majesty.

Their intentions were definitely malicious. Her bowl of spicy noodles had been knocked down twice by stones and dog shit—that must have been Gong Yin’s doing. That spicy noodles had problems!

In other words, this woman hadn’t just started making things difficult for her today—she’d had murderous intent toward her very early. She was a true enemy whose opinion of her would never change no matter what she did.

So why be polite?

With Sang Dong quickly driven away, there was finally no one beside her. Jing Hengbo put her hands behind her back, making a pose of looking up in contemplation.

Everyone followed her in gazing deeply at the sky—was Your Majesty requesting divine guidance?

While everyone was looking skyward, Jing Hengbo aimed the card camera in her right palm at what was behind her and quickly pressed the shutter.

“Click.” A soft sound that no one heard. Jing Hengbo lowered her hand, wiped the photo into her palm with her finger, glanced at it, and felt relieved.

Though the photo was slightly crooked, it clearly captured the object—a red coral nearly half a person’s height.

Jing Hengbo had been worried the object might be too small and the back-facing focus wouldn’t capture it properly. Now finally at ease, she crumpled the photo in her palm and stuffed it into her sleeve, then coughed.

Everyone lowered their heads and looked at her expectantly.

Jing Hengbo didn’t disappoint, declaring loudly: “A three-foot-tall red coral branch!”

The venue fell silent, then erupted in thunderous cheers.

“Your Majesty is miraculous!” Yi Qi nearly jumped onto someone’s head but was pressed down by his martial brothers working together, who then gave him a good stomping.

All the ministers looked amazed. They certainly knew Jing Hengbo hadn’t turned around—how could she know without turning? The object was randomly chosen by the Grand Sage, who would never collude with the Queen. Everyone in court trusted this old man’s character completely.

The new Queen indeed had many supernatural aspects, almost demonic!

Gong Yin slowly sipped his tea.

What had been in her palm just now?

Just how many good things did she have, secretly hidden away?

…

“Just now most people were looking up,” Fei Luo pursed her lips and smiled. “Perhaps someone quickly turned to peek.”

“Come, blindfold me,” Jing Hengbo immediately said, “then strip and dance behind me. I guarantee I can tell you where you have birthmarks, stretch marks, and abortion scars.”

Fei Luo frowned delicately. “What are pregnancy…” She vaguely understood and angrily shouted: “How dare you insult me!”

“If you don’t have them, I’ll apologize,” female rogue Jing Hengbo grinned at her, “but we’d have to verify publicly. How about it? Want to try?”

Fei Luo’s face flushed red as she stormed off—arguing with a rogue was unwise.

“Don’t believe it?” Jing Hengbo looked around. “How about trying with a living person? Behind me, with their back to me, make a gesture and see if I know?”

“I’ll do it.” Yelu Qi suddenly raised his hand with a smile. “Your Majesty, I’ve wanted to make a gesture at you for a long time!”

“Crack.” The sitting Gong Yin suddenly put down his cup, slowly stood, and said: “I’ll do it.”

Yelu Qi smiled and sat back down, his eyes quite playful.

Jing Hengbo didn’t care who came, smiling as she beckoned to Gong Yin.

Gong Yin swept his robes and came onto the platform, walking to one zhang behind her and standing back-to-back.

He faced the inner side of the colored platform, with red curtain backdrop before him. He seemed to think, then raised his hand and placed it on the curtain.

His fingers rose and fell several times, and the curtain silently tore.

Jing Hengbo held her hands behind her back. The card camera clicked and produced a photo. Jing Hengbo raised her sleeve and looked skyward: “Such bright sun…” Using her wide sleeve as cover, she glanced at the photo in her palm.

The photo showed Gong Yin with his back to her, hand pressed against the curtain.

Jing Hengbo was dumbfounded. She’d thought Gong Yin would make some easily recognizable gesture like drawing a sword, but his current pose showed no particular stance at all.

Her gaze suddenly fell on that curtain. Wait, the curtain seemed to have cracks?

Horizontal, winding, rising and falling—a single tear.

Such a grand ceremony wouldn’t use broken decorations. This tear must have been made by him.

Jing Hengbo chuckled, stuffed the photo back in her sleeve, and declared loudly: “The Right State Preceptor is tearing the curtain!”

People below could still see the actions above clearly. They all cheered: “Exactly! Exactly!”

The citizens were wild with joy, surging up like a tide, beating against the wooden boards at the platform’s edge, shouting: “Your Majesty! Your Majesty! You are our Dahuang’s heaven-sent divine woman! There’s nothing in this world you cannot do!”

There’s plenty I can’t do! I just know how to deceive people!

Jing Hengbo grumbled internally while beaming as she shook hands with the front audience: “Small matter, small matter! Thanks for your support—love you all!”

…

“Bo bo bo bo I love you! Hi hi hello I love you!” Yi Qi and his silly brothers sang in unison from afar.

Jing Hengbo waved at them from a distance. Gong Yin, who had walked off the platform, turned to look coldly in that direction.

Good thing they were sensible enough not to approach.

Otherwise, did they really think Emperor Song wouldn’t dare move against the Seven Kills?

Jing Hengbo listened to their chaotic singing while busy shaking hands, smiling, receiving flowers, and enjoying star treatment, when she suddenly froze.

Bo bo bo bo…

Bo…

The curved line Gong Yin had drawn just now…

Waves? Bo?

She suddenly felt confused, forgetting what she was doing, squatting at the platform edge and starting to daze off. Several rogues secretly touched her hands without her noticing.

Until her ear suddenly hurt. She came to her senses, reached up to touch it, and a flower stem fell to the ground. Looking again, the Great God was looking at her blandly, openly holding a flower missing its stem.

Jing Hengbo’s earlier confusion and romantic thoughts were instantly smashed to pieces by the most mood-killing Great God.

Overthinking!

What wave or not wave!

He was just making a random gesture on the platform. How could it possibly relate to her? His brain had only room for stones and Dahuang—where was there space for Jing Hengbo?

Did she think this was some melodramatic romance novel?

Hmph!

The citizens fell into excitement, crowding and pressing, lying at the front of the platform with hands stretched long, hoping to touch the fingertips of the miraculous Queen.

But the Queen was quickly pulled back by two eunuchs, who politely asked her to step back to prevent citizens from pushing forward desperately and causing a stampede.

Human life was most important. Though Jing Hengbo regretted not being able to continue enjoying star treatment, she obediently retreated to the center of the platform. Facing everyone’s regretful yet expectant eyes, her crowd-pleasing syndrome flared up again. She decided “talents” might as well be demonstrated one or two more times. If she was going to shock them, she’d give them a big shock, leaving the strongest impression on Dahuang’s people and building her mass foundation.

“I forgot to mention earlier—I can also paint,” she smiled gracefully.

The crowd’s excitement diminished slightly. Knowing how to paint wasn’t much of a skill—it was standard for wealthy family daughters. Even randomly pulling someone from the roadside might know how to paint a bit.

“My paintings,” Jing Hengbo grinned, “are different from what you imagine. My paintings are called…” She squinted thoughtfully. “Called earth-shattering, unprecedented, incomparable, identical, flawless, lightning-fast miniature paintings!”

What?

Everyone’s faces showed bewildered expressions.

“The front part doesn’t need explanation—unprecedented and incomparable. The back part,” Jing Hengbo smiled as she explained, “you understand ‘identical,’ right? Exactly the same. ‘Lightning-fast’ means quick—much faster than your painting. ‘Miniature’ means small—palm-sized.” She showed her palm.

The silly brothers in the distance immediately shouted: “Your Majesty, your hands are so white!”

Jing Hengbo smiled charmingly: “Thank you!”

Both State Preceptors—one glanced sideways at that direction, the other tapped his cup lid, pondering whether to deploy troops for annihilation.

“We beg to see Your Majesty’s divine painting!” The citizens clamored again. The ministers didn’t speak this time. This new Queen threw out things wave after wave, each slap resounding loudly. Now no one dared speak with full confidence or challenge casually.

“Arrange something for me to paint,” Jing Hengbo smiled at the ministers.

No one spoke. Everyone now realized that since the Queen dared say it, she could definitely do it. No one wanted to carry her sedan chair.

Gong Yin glanced at her hand hidden in her sleeve, put down his cup, pondered, thought about it, then picked up his cup again.

He’d already stepped forward once. It wouldn’t be appropriate to show too much now, especially under public scrutiny with many ill-intentioned observers.

Yelu Qi tapped the table with his fingers, eyes flashing, about to speak when suddenly the Grand Sage smiled: “Your Majesty, this old minister has an unreasonable request.”

“Please speak.” Jing Hengbo always maintained basic respect for learned and virtuous people.

“This old minister has always hoped for a portrait,” the Grand Sage squinted and smiled. “I’ve asked famous masters in Emperor Song to paint for me. Though they painted extremely well, the masters probably respected me too much and always painted me looking much younger and glossy. Though it looked quite pleasing and made me momentarily forget the passage of years and old age, life values truth above all. If you can’t even see your true self, how can you see others clearly? So this old minister very much wants to see his chicken-skinned, crane-haired appearance clearly. I hope Your Majesty will fulfill this wish.” He bowed slightly.

Jing Hengbo listened with partial understanding, roughly grasping that the old man wanted to see his aged appearance clearly. She felt quite admiring—back in her era, people desperately refused to age, selling everything for plastic surgery, looking like their mothers after removing makeup, giving birth to children who looked like neither parent but like toads!

Didn’t someone say this? Daring to face the bleakness of life? Now those who dared face the bleakness of their faces were all heroes!

Nothing to say—support!

“Rest assured!” She also smiled. “I’ll definitely give you one that’s not off by a hair, completely and totally you. But there’s one condition—you and I paint in a private room, and during the process, you swear not to tell anyone.”

“Naturally.”

Jing Hengbo glanced at the old man, thinking one instant camera was enough to play with all of Dahuang. But right now, what method could she use to both prevent the old man from seeing the camera and clearly photograph him to shock and win over this highly positioned old man?

And then what method could she use to intimidate this group of difficult, black-hearted officials who only thought of personal desires?