Chapter 760: Holding the Zither but Causing Trouble

Chapter 760: Embracing the Qin, Stirring Resentment

Storage rings were not common.

Aside from the one Zhao Changhe had obtained from the Black Tortoise secret realm, he had only seen one in Si Si’s possession. Si Si came from an ancient spirit race lineage, and her clan indeed possessed many relics from antiquity. Furthermore, though figures like Yuxu and Ying Wu had never been seen using them, they surely had them. Most who had inherited the ancient Four Symbols teachings, like the Vermilion Bird and Black Tortoise, likely had them as well. Overall, they were exceedingly rare, reserved only for those closely tied to antiquity.

Even Tang Wanzhuang had not owned one before; she had only recently taken one from the palace collection—a gift from Her Majesty, Empress Chi Chi. Its origin was unknown; it might have been acquired by Xia Longyuan in his early years, or perhaps it was a tribute from various regions over the years. In any case, such items in the palace were few, counted as precious treasures.

Thus, Tang Wanzhuang had never imagined that such rare treasures could be mass-produced. She hadn’t even considered it, and Timur’s side was likely similar—unlikely to think in that direction.

Yet once the thought arose, it became a problem worth attempting to solve. If it were truly cracked, what need was there to speak of wartime advantages?

How to solve it?

The rift between antiquity and the present era was mainly reflected in the interruption of cultivation knowledge. The strong only knew how to wield power without understanding its essence; ordinary people were utterly ignorant of it. Thus, a chasm had formed in cultivation. But this did not mean technology had also been severed. In terms of pure craftsmanship, the present was absolutely superior to the past!

Many things remained unforgeable due to cultivation limitations. Once cultivation crossed that threshold—or even without crossing it, merely grasping the key—how could modern craftsmanship fail to replicate ancient artifacts? Take the forging method passed down by the Black Tortoise, for instance. What was so special about that method itself? It was merely the infusion of the Night Emperor’s intent that made it seem complex.

So what was the core of a storage ring?

Clearly, it was space.

Space was a supreme law, extremely difficult to master. But applying it to storage rings did not require such high-level control; understanding the principles should suffice. Who was well-versed in this?

Foremost in the current age was Ying Wu, followed by the Buddhist sect—after all, a mustard seed could contain Mount Sumeru. Previously, in the Xiangyang secret realm, the monks had also shown they could disrupt the connection, demonstrating a certain spatial awareness.

Tang Wanzhuang immediately stepped outside: “Summon someone. Go to West Zen Temple to invite Master Yuanxing, and to Kangle Gambling House to invite Young Master Sha Qi.”

“Yuanxing is in the capital?” Zhao Changhe asked.

“Yes, he just arrived. Since Yuancheng followed your command and accepted unified taxation without privileges, the capital naturally has room for tolerance. Her Majesty’s intent is that the Four Symbols Sect is not afraid of competition—after all, no one can outdo her.”

Zhao Changhe: “…The state religion is indeed formidable.”

Tang Wanzhuang shot him a glance: “Hey, the Four Symbols Sect seems to worship you.”

“Oh, I suppose so…” Zhao Changhe twitched his mouth. He still found it hard to see himself as the Night Emperor; in his heart, the Night Emperor was someone else.

But whoever the Night Emperor was, from the perspective of state governance, a single sect holding too much power was hardly a good thing. Even if Xia Chichi herself came from the Four Symbols and ruled as the Azure Dragon in the mortal realm, she would begin to foster other forces for balance—something Wanzhuang had advised her long ago. It seemed Chichi was now on the right track. The entry of the Buddhist sect signified that this empire was beginning to take the proper shape of a flourishing dynasty.

And one obvious benefit of making many friends was having talents in all fields, with no bias.

Before long, Yuanxing and Sha Qi arrived around the same time. Upon seeing Zhao Changhe, they both cupped their hands and smiled: “Greetings, Prince Zhao.”

Then they bowed to Tang Wanzhuang: “Greetings, Chief Tang.”

Tang Wanzhuang got straight to the point: “Spare the pleasantries. I wish to gather top artisans to research the forging of storage rings. Both of you have some connection to the way of space. Can you offer assistance?”

Forging storage rings? Their first reaction was stunned silence, but then their minds stirred, and they realized it might not be impossible.

Many things were simply never considered; once carefully pondered, they were not as difficult as imagined.

Yuanxing pondered for a moment and said cautiously: “If this had been proposed a few months ago, this old monk would have been helpless. But now, after connecting the Xiangyang secret realm, we have indeed gained considerable insight in this area… If we can pre-engrave a small spatial array on the ring, it might actually be achievable.”

Sha Qi said: “Brother Five taught me some things, but unfortunately, I’m an idiot and couldn’t learn.”

Zhao Changhe: “?”

“But I can gift the court a batch of small-capacity storage rings for small-scale use or for disassembly and research.”

“How small is the capacity? How many in a batch?”

“The capacity is indeed not large—only a few feet in dimension—just some inferior goods. As for quantity… roughly less than a hundred, not much anyway.”

Zhao Changhe’s eyes widened.

This was not much? You, an idio… Sha Qi, had more storage rings on hand than all the figures on the Heaven, Earth, and Human Rankings combined! Small capacity aside, it could already support small-scale convenient logistics—grain couldn’t be transported, but gold and silver could, and it could be put into use immediately!

Sha Qi clasped his hands and said: “We dig a lot of tunnels. High-end items are rare, but these relatively low-end ones are often obtained, sometimes in batches. Our brotherhood’s bandits move like ghosts, partly because we’ve been using these for a long time—looting doesn’t hinder light travel. As for my share, I’ve got some. But if you want to use them for large-scale warfare, not even my stash, nor the brotherhood’s entire collection over the years, would be enough. Plus, some are damaged or scrapped. Self-research is still necessary.”

Tang Wanzhuang and Zhao Changhe exchanged glances, never expecting such a pleasant surprise. Tang Wanzhuang said joyfully: “No time to waste. Please, Young Master Sha, go fetch a batch to the workshop. Master Yuanxing, come with me to the workshop. Let’s all start studying.”

Yue Hongling stood up and said: “I’ll go too. I’ve experienced the spatial upheaval in Kunlun and have some insights. I might be able to offer suggestions. It might also inspire my own sword intent.”

Zhao Changhe also stood, intending to join.

Both women glanced at him with a knowing smile: “Prince Zhao’s learning is broad, but you seem to have no real research in this area. Better rest. If you have nothing to do, you can go to the palace and see Her Majesty.”

Zhao Changhe watched them leave, feeling somewhat speechless. He knew what the two women were thinking, so he let it go and didn’t follow… I really wasn’t planning to copy you all, why bother?

In his heart, he mused that he actually had some experience with spatial changes—the secret realm beneath the Imperial Ancestral Temple, old Xia’s place, was a typical example. But it was only skin-deep; he had no idea how to make a ring. Time changes everything; later, he would go study at the temple and come back to shock them all.

Come to think of it, Hongling seemed unable to quarrel with anyone and got along well with everyone… Perhaps it was because the rumors about her and him had spread so early that others had already mentally prepared themselves. Also, someone as open and upright as her was hard to resent. The only one who could lash out at anyone was Baoqin, who held the imperial city in her hands.

Thinking this, he subconsciously glanced at Baoqin.

The girl hadn’t followed Tang Wanzhuang to the workshop. She was sitting at the table, chin in hand, staring straight at him as if in a daze. When his gaze swept over her, she seemed startled and hurriedly lowered her eyes.

Zhao Changhe suddenly realized that the hall was empty—only he and Baoqin remained.

“Um…” Baoqin, usually sharp-tongued, stammered: “Your, Your Highness, would you like some tea?”

She fumbled to pour tea, the cups clinking noisily.

Despite being alone together, Zhao Changhe couldn’t think of anything improper; instead, he couldn’t help but laugh: “Hey, why didn’t you go out with your mistress?”

“There’s a guest at home. How can the host leave entirely? When my mistress had guests before but had to go out on urgent business, I stayed to entertain them.”

Zhao Changhe swallowed the words “You’re the host too” hard. Saying that would hurt the girl’s feelings. She was inseparable from Wanzhuang and could basically speak for her to outsiders—she could indeed be considered a host.

He just smiled: “I’m not a guest, you know.”

“Is that so?” Baoqin looked at him sideways. “Have you married my mistress?”

Zhao Changhe: “…”

Baoqin added: “Even if we don’t mention that, do you know where everything is here? You can’t even find the latrine, yet you dare call yourself the host?”

Just stammering a moment ago, now she was sharp-tongued again, huh… Zhao Changhe was at a loss whether to laugh or cry. He made a show of rolling up his sleeves as if to hit her and took a step forward.

Baoqin stiffened her neck and looked up at him.

Zhao Changhe looked down. The girl’s cherry lips were pouted, her small chest heaving… But her eyes held a mix of reproach and resentment, as if containing untold depths.

He hadn’t had any improper thoughts before, but now his heart suddenly skipped a beat, and his mouth went dry.

How had he never noticed before? Baoqin had grown up so much, and… she was so beautiful.

Thinking carefully, this was Wanzhuang’s default chambermaid… That meant she was already his by right—eating her would be normal, not eating her would invite resentment… How had he completely ignored her before?

Were those reproachful and resentful eyes only because of the earlier topic? What was there to resent about that topic? What was she resentful of?

Why had she shown Wanzhuang “The Story of the Western Wing”? What was she hinting at?

Zhao Changhe suddenly thought of a question—for this society, for the girl’s own inner perception, if she were long ignored, or if “the master didn’t want her,” what would be the outcome? How would others see her?

It seemed… something bad would happen. She didn’t even dare to say it outright, only hinting at her resentment through things like “The Story of the Western Wing,” because once she spoke plainly, there would be no turning back. What if she were rejected…

Zhao Changhe’s heart lurched. No wonder Wanzhuang had deliberately left the two of them alone. Even Wanzhuang didn’t dare to bring it up directly, afraid that if he refused, Baoqin might jump into a river.

The atmosphere fell silent. Zhao Changhe stared fixedly at Baoqin, lost in thought, while Baoqin’s eyes began to panic. Her heart pounded like a drum in the empty hall, and she stammered again: “Wha, what are you doing? If you want to hit me, then hit me…”

Zhao Changhe deliberately said: “I can hit you whenever I want?”

Baoqin turned her head away in defiance: “I’m just a little maid. If Prince Zhao wants to punish me, what can I do? I can only endure it obediently.”

Zhao Changhe reached out and turned her chin back, continuing to look.

Baoqin’s heart nearly leaped out of her throat. Her small mouth slightly opened, as if she wanted to say something sharp, but the words stuck there, unable to come out.

Zhao Changhe leaned slightly, murmuring by her ear, "Why read the Western Chamber to Wan Zhuang?"

Baoqin instinctively pushed against his chest, her eyes darting left and right. This posture was far too intimate... His breath brushed her ear, ticklish, stirring a ticklish feeling in her heart too, as if something swept across her soul, leaving her breath ragged.

Hmm... there really was no one around.

She stammered, "Wh-what's wrong with reading the Western Chamber? The young lady has read all sorts of idle books..."

Something touched her cheek, scorching hot.

Baoqin suddenly felt like fleeing, but the moment she moved, her waist was caught, preventing escape.

Baoqin put on a fierce glare, trying to scare him off. But the wretched bear wasn't fooled; he chuckled softly, "I haven't punished you yet—how can you run?"

"If you're going to hit, then hit, you crude stinky bear... Mmm mmm..." Baoqin's eyes widened.

Her lips were already sealed by his.

Sharp-tongued as she was, the punishment was naturally to silence her mouth.

Unexpectedly, the kiss wasn't sharp or harsh at all—soft, fragrant, and faintly sweet.

The punished little maid instantly went limp, her glare gone, her struggles ceased, frozen in place as if stunned by the punishment.

In truth, it was like an electric shock coursing through her, her mind blank, no longer knowing who she was.

He kissed me...

How could he kiss me? He hasn't even said Baoqin is beautiful, hasn't said he likes Baoqin very much, hasn't played "Seeking a Phoenix" on the zither—just went straight to nibbling... Stinky bear breaking corn!

Yet even as this thought flashed, her little lips unconsciously parted, letting the stinky bear seize the sweetness.

Then slowly, she closed her eyes. The heart that had once been vexed and flustered, feeling adrift like duckweed, gradually settled back down, landing in his home.

In a daze, she remembered how she once hated him for breaking the zither strings, how he didn't fit her ideal of a romantic, refined gentleman. But slowly, somehow, she found this scarred face the most pleasing, and when she looked at so-called gentlemen, they were nothing but rotten fish and shrimp.

Because he truly was a peerless hero...

You should have taken me long ago... I don't even need you to play the zither or praise me.

A chambermaid whose task of refilling tea was snatched by the current emperor—who could understand that feeling?

After a long while, their lips parted.

Baoqin leaned limply against Zhao Changhe's chest, gasping for breath. It was a long time before she murmured, "The master must not... toy with Baoqin."

"Why 'master' all of a sudden?"

"...You married my young lady, so you're my master."

Poor thing—with no one around, seducing the master, yet she didn't even dare to call him "lover."

Zhao Changhe couldn't help but laugh: "Don't call me master. Use another word."

"What word?"

"The one you most want to say."

"Stinky bear."

Zhao Changhe: "?"

Baoqin's eyes darted everywhere. Finally finding something to do to change the subject, she pushed against his chest, jumped back, and pattered over to the table to grab the teapot: "I'll pour tea for the master."

Before she could lift the teapot, the nape of her neck was caught, and she was spun half a turn on the spot. Her lips were kissed again: "What tea? Is there anything better than you?"

The little maid helplessly pushed against his chest: "This is the main hall of the Demon Suppression Bureau... And you say you're not a stinky bear."

Even as she said this, she couldn't bear to let go, kissing back with smacking sounds, her eyes gradually growing watery.

Zhao Changhe finally sat her on his lap, moving to the table with a laugh: "Your little mouth curses so much—how come it tastes sweet?"

"I only regret it's not bitter, to bitter you to death."

"That won't do. If I'm bittered to death, who will cherish Baoqin?"

"There are plenty of men in the world. Who wants a stinky bear like you? If you hadn't taken hold of our young lady, and I as a maid had no choice, who would want you!"

"Alright, alright." Zhao Changhe laughed. "Move the zither on the table closer. Let me play for you, okay?"

Baoqin's heart was delighted. She leaned over and brought the zither over. Baoqin held the zither, Zhao Changhe held Baoqin—the scene had a bit of a nesting-doll philosophy.

Baoqin set the zither down and tried to break free to let him play properly. But Zhao Changhe held her tight, refusing to let her go, laughing: "Play like this."

Baoqin said petulantly, "How can you play well like this? You're just being perfunctory."

"My arms are long." Zhao Changhe grinned, poking his head over her shoulder, adjusting the strings, and soon began to pluck them, producing a tinkling melody.

He played exactly the "Seeking a Phoenix" that Baoqin wanted to hear—it was, after all, a piece for courtship.

Ordinarily, Zhao Changhe never played the zither. He didn't study music, chess, calligraphy, or painting. His past lessons with Wan Zhuang weren't for true learning but to slow his mind. Wan Zhuang also hoped to cultivate in him the bearing befitting a crown prince, never expecting him to master these arts.

Now, Zhao Changhe's demeanor was vastly different from his early years, and these lessons had much to do with it. But alas, amid the rush of war, he rarely had leisure time to continue practicing.

Yet despite not having practiced, Baoqin was astonished to find he played far better than before—technically, even surpassing her own skill... His musicality was mediocre, his playing lacked soul, but it was still enough to outshine ninety percent of the world's zither masters.

Simple: with martial arts cultivated to the imperial realm, how could finger techniques be harder than the deadly changes of palms and fingers in life-or-death combat? Naturally, he was a master at his fingertips. Tang Wanzhuang didn't practice much either, yet her skill was high—the main reason was the same, though her musicality was on a completely different level from this bear's.

Regardless, Zhao Changhe's rendition of "Seeking a Phoenix" was truly beautiful. Baoqin felt she had never heard such a lovely version.

Baoqin turned her head slightly, watching him play with concentration, her heart a tangle of emotions.

He seemed to be proving he wasn't a crude brute... and proving "I like you."

But I'm just a chambermaid...

The zither notes faded, slowly dying away. Zhao Changhe pressed the strings gently and asked softly, "What else would you like to hear?"

Baoqin quickly averted her gaze, lowering her head: "How many more do you know?"

"You want to hear them all?"

"All of them."

"Then give me a kiss."

Baoqin's cheeks flushed. She turned and quickly pecked him on the cheek, then buried her head back.

Who would have thought this girl loved the zither the most.

Far away in the palace, Xia Chichi sat in the imperial study, her face as sour as if she'd eaten seventeen or eight stinky duck eggs: "The emperor is ready in the palace to serve him alongside the empress dowager, and he's playing the zither endlessly, flirting with a little maid!"

"Crackle, pop—" The distant firecrackers continued without end. Xia Chichi listened, her expression softening, and she said quietly, "Never mind. This is his rare leisure. Send someone to tell him to have a good New Year's in the palace tonight. Our family... Tang Wanzhuang and Yue Hongling, all together, have a reunion dinner. Bring that maid too, on the condition that she doesn't chatter like firecrackers."