Every country had an Imperial Harem system, but sovereigns were always male. New Xia establishing a female ruler was the first instance since the Hao Li Empire, truly unprecedented in history. Who knew how an Imperial Harem should be set up?

Were they supposed to establish three palaces and six courts, and gather the most handsome men from under heaven for her?

“Minister Du,” the Queen smiled, her red lips parting slightly to utter words that could condemn a person to death, “this is a matter within the jurisdiction of the Ministry of Rites.”

In this cool weather, beads of sweat suddenly trickled down Du Kun’s forehead.

Could such a system be established? If he dared to write even the first character in drafting it, the State Preceptor would use his divine powers to blast him crisp on the outside and tender inside!

At this moment, Fu Ling Chuan finally spoke: “Enough. Vice Minister Du’s proposal is too hasty. The Queen is merely administering a light punishment. Let’s postpone this matter for further discussion.” If he didn’t step forward, who knew what chaos this would cause? Tsk, they were all a bunch of incompetents. “Your Majesty?”

He still politely reminded her.

Feng Miao Jun wasn’t ready to confront him directly yet, so she waved her hand: “Fine, court dismissed.”

The court officials wiped their sweat and hurriedly dispersed.

Feng Miao Jun stood up and walked out without looking back. Before stepping out the door, a maid naturally draped a snow-white cloak over her shoulders.

Outside, the falling snow was busy whitewashing everything, covering all in silver and white.

She didn’t choose the snow-sheltered corridor but walked straight through the plum forest.

Just then, someone called out to her from behind: “Chang Le!”

In the royal palace, only one person would address her this way. Feng Miao Jun stopped and turned around, watching Fu Ling Chuan stride over: “State Preceptor.”

Fu Ling Chuan slowed his pace when he reached her side, walking alongside her, and then clarified: “Du Kun’s words were not on my instruction.”

“I know,” Feng Miao Jun smiled slightly. “You’re not that foolish.” Fu Ling Chuan liked to plan thoroughly before acting. So if he decided to move against her, it would be a combination of moves, making it difficult to counter.

Fu Ling Chuan returned her smile and said to the maids behind: “All of you, withdraw.”

The servants immediately bowed and retreated as told. Feng Miao Jun saw this, her gaze flickering slightly.

Sure enough, Fu Ling Chuan’s subsequent words were private: “Were Chang Le’s words just now merely spoken in anger?”

“Which ones?” She knew perfectly well.

“The Imperial Harem.” Fu Ling Chuan found these two words extremely disagreeable; merely saying them made his chest feel congested.

Feng Miao Jun snorted: “Men are allowed three thousand beauties, but I can’t have three palaces and six courts? As a sovereign, one should have a sovereign’s system!”

Men? Heh, what a fine display of double standards.

Fu Ling Chuan sighed deeply, his voice full of helplessness: “Chang Le, stop being mischievous. Tell me, what must I do for you to marry me?”

Feng Miao Jun stopped walking: “My cousin and I only have sibling affection, not the love between a man and a woman.”

She was wrapped in a great cloak, as white as the snow-covered ground, a whiteness that made Fu Ling Chuan’s eyes ache. Only her small face was rosy, with bright dark eyes. Her red lips were also full and lustrous, yet they could utter such cruel words.

Fu Ling Chuan’s throat was very dry. He suddenly extended his palm toward her shoulder: “Who could you possibly have a man-woman love with?”

He had only instinctively wanted to grab her to question her, but as his fingertips barely touched her thin shoulders, a thick force spontaneously arose, repelling his fingers.

Resolute, decisive, and not at all courteous!

Her gaze grew profound, and her voice suddenly turned cold: “State Preceptor, speak if you have something to say. Laying hands on me is considered an offense against the sovereign!”

In his urgency, he had forgotten that her cultivation was profound. She was not a weak palace woman who could be manipulated at his will. Fu Ling Chuan clenched his fist, producing a cracking sound: “You still love Yun, don’t you?”

The Wei Kingdom State Preceptor had left in summer, and months had passed since then. During this time, Fu Ling Chuan had shown her every care and attention; if she just asked, he could pluck the stars from the sky for her.

Like this, was it still not enough? Was he still inferior to that crafty, pretty-faced man?

Seeing his reddened eyes, Feng Miao Jun was startled, her coldness diminishing somewhat: “That has nothing to do with my cousin, does it?”

“It has to do with me, and with New Xia!” His face was grim. “The Wei people have a deep-seated hatred with us. The noble Queen of New Xia absolutely cannot marry the Wei Kingdom State Preceptor!”

“Is that so?” Feng Miao Jun casually plucked a plum branch, its flowers blooming brilliantly. “Cousin, don’t forget the oath you made on Luo Fu Island!”

He had sworn never to interfere with Chang Le’s marriage, never to use any means to force her to marry anyone, including himself!

This was also one of the conditions for her agreeing to become Queen.

Fu Ling Chuan said in a deep voice: “Do you want to throw New Xia into great chaos?”

Feng Miao Jun laughed coldly: “Don’t put such a big hat on me.”

“Marrying the Wei Kingdom State Preceptor would certainly cause a huge uproar within the country. Chang Le, you are a smart person; don’t let Yun’s sweet words cloud your judgment!” Fu Ling Chuan stared at her intently. “Remember to compare your desires with New Xia’s interests. You are the Queen; you cannot be so willful!”

Feng Miao Jun glanced at him sideways: “By that reasoning, only marrying you can ensure the country’s stability and people’s peace?”

“I am your best choice.” Fu Ling Chuan looked down at her, softening his tone. “Chang Le, shall we work together wholeheartedly to lead New Xia toward a peaceful and prosperous era?”

“Sounds good.” Feng Miao Jun folded her arms across her chest, but before Fu Ling Chuan’s expression could relax, she continued, “Good for you, good for New Xia, only not good for me.”

Her current situation was so similar to Princess Han Yue’s back then. Heh, she had long determined never to follow in Princess Han Yue’s footsteps!

“I will have my ideas about this matter. There’s no need for Cousin to worry about it.” She turned in a different direction, heading toward the Half Moon Gate.

This conversation ended unhappily. But Feng Miao Jun understood that this day would come sooner or later.

Fu Ling Chuan stopped walking, watching her silhouette disappear behind the gate. A bit of accumulated snow on the branches fell onto her black hair, creating a stark contrast of black and white. He wanted to reach out and brush it off for her, but she had already gone, without looking back.

Fu Ling Chuan stood motionless in the garden for a long time, then suddenly struck out with his fist, hitting a plum tree beside him!

With a crack, the tree trunk, as thick as a bowl, broke cleanly.

Plum petals fell rustling, mixing with the falling snow.

Fu Ling Chuan hung his head. It had been a very long time since he felt so dejected. To be fair, Chang Le wasn’t clingy or cute, nor could she act coquettishly like his Fei Yuan, but he didn’t know why he had taken such a liking to her.

Her every expression, even just a mocking glance, had such a strong flavor.

She was indeed too beautiful, beautiful like a ten-mile stretch of peach forest in full bloom, beautiful like mountainsides covered with azaleas—intense, unrestrained, brilliant, with an imposing presence that made others both admire and yet not dare to approach. She was too clever, turning clouds with a flip of her hand and rain with the back of it, able to carve out her territory even alone in this deep palace.

But she was also too cold, rejecting the sincere feelings of anyone, including him.