Chapter 1: Return to Court The Emperor is Holding an Imperial Selection

Chapter 1: Return to the Capital

The Emperor Prepares for a Royal Selection

In the fourth year of Jingyuan, the Emperor personally led a campaign against Chen State.

By the eighth year of Jingyuan, the states of Qi and An had surrendered.

In the tenth year of Jingyuan, Qing State was conquered.

Thus, the realm was unified, and peace prevailed.

In the eighth month of that same year, the grand army returned to the capital.

—*The Redemption of a Tyrant: Chronicles of Great Liang*

On the day the imperial army returned, the capital of Great Liang was bathed in clear, cloudless skies.

The Liang army snaked like a dragon, and the capital’s overjoyed populace lined the streets, cheering.

"Has His Majesty arrived? Is the imperial procession here yet?"

"Not yet, this is just the vanguard. His Majesty is behind them."

"Ah, here they come! All hail His Majesty!"

A roar erupted from the crowd as onlookers prostrated themselves, their voices rising in a unified cheer.

"Hail to His Majesty! Long live His Majesty! Long live Great Liang!"

The 23-year-old Emperor, who had conquered multiple states and unified the realm, rode proudly down the long street, clad in armor and long boots, astride his warhorse.

The wind swept, lifting the Emperor’s crimson cape.

As the wind died, the cape settled, revealing the small attendant trailing behind him.

The attendant, too, wore armor, his head encased in an oversized helmet that nearly obscured his eyes.

He carried the Emperor’s bow on his shoulder, his longsword at his waist, and the Emperor’s halberd cradled in his arms, his steps unwavering as he dutifully followed.

He looked up at the Emperor, his eyes shining with a devotion more profound than any in the crowd.

Struggling to hold the halberd, which was taller than himself, he raised a hand and shouted with the people—

"Long live His Majesty! Long live Great Liang!"

"Long live His Majesty, ten thousand years, ten thousand times ten thousand years!"

"His Majesty… I can’t think of anything else… but long live His Majesty!"

The Emperor turned, a faint smile playing on his lips as he watched the attendant's foolish display.

"Idiot."

The Emperor loosened his reins and beckoned with a finger.

Understanding, the attendant hurried forward, his arms still laden with weapons.

He looked up, his cheeks flushed with excitement, his eyes sparkling like two small stars.

"Your Majesty, what are your comman—"

Before he could finish, the Emperor reached out, grasped his collar, and lifted him clean off the ground.

"Ah—"

After a dizzying moment, he found himself nestled in the Emperor’s embrace, seated securely on the horse’s back.

The attendant quickly turned his head. "Your Majesty—"

The Emperor’s expression remained impassive, his tone cool. "Don’t move."

"But—"

"Silence."

"Yes…"

The attendant turned his head back, clutching the warhorse’s mane, and sat obediently.

But…

The people lining the road were all staring at him.

"Who’s that?"

"His Majesty’s attendant, surely?"

"An attendant riding with the Emperor?"

As the warhorse continued forward, the attendant lowered his head further, burying it in his chest like a small quail.

The Emperor had always been unconstrained, indifferent to others’ gazes or whispers.

But the attendant cared, just a little.

He feared being pointed at by the common folk.

Suddenly, a golden, round pastry, seemingly falling from the sky, landed squarely in his lap.

Startled, the attendant fumbled to catch it, then gasped in delight. "White Cloud Cake!"

He instinctively started to turn but remembered the Emperor’s command not to move. He quickly snapped his head back. "Your Majesty, is this for your servant?"

The Emperor’s expression subtly hardened. "You unsophisticated fool. How many times must I tell you? It’s called a ‘cream puff,’ not some ridiculous ‘White Cloud Cake.’ It’s a good day, so I’m rewarding you with one."

"Thank you, Your Majesty!"

Displeased by the attendant’s drooling, greedy look, the Emperor scoffed and turned his head away. "Eat it quietly, hide it well, and take it back to eat. If others see, everyone will want one, and I don’t have that many to spare."

"Yes!" The attendant clutched the cream puff with both hands, his feet bouncing with joy.

His name was Yan Zhi, and he was His Majesty’s personal attendant!

His Majesty’s name was Xiao Cuan, the Emperor of Great Liang!

This treat was called a "cream puff," and it was exceptionally delicious! Moreover, it was exclusive to His Majesty, unavailable even in the palace kitchens or outside bakeries.

Yan Zhi still remembered the first time he tasted a cream puff.

He was only eight years old then, sold into the palace by his father and stepmother to be castrated and made a eunuch.

Just as he was about to have his trousers removed for the blade, the thirteen-year-old Emperor descended like a god, saving him.

The Emperor had told him, "If you wish to live, you must pledge loyalty to me alone for the rest of your life. Dare to harbor any disloyal thoughts, and I will cut you down."

Yan Zhi nodded vigorously, thumping his chest as he vowed unwavering loyalty to His Majesty.

Yet, he continued to sniffle and sob, unable to stop crying.

So, the Emperor produced a cream puff from somewhere, tossed it into his arms, and ordered him to eat.

Yan Zhi had never eaten a cream puff before. With one bite, his face was covered in cream, and naturally, he forgot all about crying.

Thus, he became the Emperor’s personal attendant—loyal, dutiful, and devoted.

When the Emperor was ambushed, he shielded him, taking a longsword straight through his body.

When the Emperor went to war, he carried his weapons, never stopping, always guarding.

When the Emperor was given medicine, he gulped down the bowl in one go, thinking to test it for poison…

Only, the medicine wasn’t poison—it was an aphrodisiac…

And so, he became the Emperor’s *true* "personal attendant."

The kind where bodies pressed close, and spirits intertwined.

Every time he performed these duties, the Emperor would reward him with a cream puff.

Crispy on the outside, crumbling at the first bite, and filled with sweet, snowy, and soft cream.

Young Yan Zhi, in his naivety, always believed that since the Emperor was the Son of Heaven, he must have ascended to the heavens, plucked a wisp of white cloud, and stuffed it into the pastry to create the "cream puff."

That’s why Yan Zhi called it "White Cloud Cake."

But every time he said it, the Emperor would correct him.

Still, no matter what it was called—the Emperor had saved him and given him treats. The Emperor was a *good man*!

Yan Zhi loved "White Cloud Cake," but he loved the good Emperor even more! So much! More than anything! More than anyone in the world!

Yan Zhi took out a clean handkerchief from his sleeve, carefully wrapped the cream puff, and tucked it gently into his robes, planning to savor it slowly once they returned to the palace.

Just then, the army reached the gates of the Great Liang palace.

Xiao Cuan dismounted, then casually reached out and pulled Yan Zhi down with him.

The civil and military officials prostrated themselves, hailing, "Long live the Emperor!"

Xiao Cuan merely uttered, "Rise," before striding toward the palace walls and towers.

Yan Zhi, laden with weapons, obediently followed behind His Majesty.

The civil and military officials trailed closely behind.

The group ascended the towering city walls, gazing at the distant army.

The Liang forces stretched majestically—the vanguard had already entered the city, while the rear still extended far beyond the gates.

Yan Zhi looked out and couldn’t help but let out a soft gasp. "Wow—"

So many people.

When he’d been with the Emperor in the military camp, he hadn’t realized there were this many.

Now, from this height, they were like ants.

"Idiot, wipe your mouth."

The Emperor’s voice suddenly came from above. Yan Zhi instinctively raised a hand to touch the corner of his mouth.

"None," Yan Zhi said, lifting his head. "Your Majesty, your servant isn’t drooling."

"If it were anyone else staring at my army like that, I’d have killed them already."

"Your servant wouldn’t dare."

"I know you wouldn’t." Xiao Cuan gazed into the distance, his tone indifferent. "Fool, answer me this—"

"Now that the realm is unified, I have vast territories, a mighty army, loyal officials, and even a pet like you to amuse and share my bed."

"Tell me—what else am I missing?"

Yan Zhi blinked, looking at His Majesty with complete seriousness.

He pondered hard, but in the end, shook his head. "Your servant can’t think of anything."

"Of course you can’t."

Xiao Cuan chuckled, removed his helmet, and tossed it into Yan Zhi’s arms.

He turned and announced, "Ministers, hear this decree—"

The officials hastily bowed. "We listen."

"Now that the realm is unified and peace reigns, the imperial harem stands empty, and the position of Empress remains vacant—this is most unseemly."

"Henceforth, all noble families shall report the names of marriageable sons and daughters to enter the palace for selection."

"There shall be a first interview, a second interview, and a final interview. Those of noble birth, virtue, looks, and skill shall be chosen to serve in the palace."

The edict was brief. The officials bowed once more. "As Your Majesty commands."

One minister ventured, "Might Your Majesty explain what is meant by 'first interview, second interview, and final interview'?"

Xiao Cuan replied coolly, "First phase, second phase, and final round of interviews."

The minister was baffled but held his tongue, so he fell silent to mull it over.

Another minister asked, "Your Majesty mentioned 'suitable candidates'—does that include…?"

"Both men and women will be considered."

Xiao Cuan’s voice was as calm as ever, but his words nearly left the crowd stunned.

*Men and women both?!*

The kneeling ministers surreptitiously exchanged shocked looks, their eyes eventually landing on Yan Zhi following behind the emperor—as if everything suddenly made sense.

This Master Yan Zhi had always stayed by His Majesty’s side, not just as a personal attendant but also as a royal favorite.

Thus, if His Majesty favored men, it was no surprise that this royal selection would include men.

Xiao Cuan asked one last time, “Any further doubts?”

The ministers bowed their heads. “We wouldn't dare.”

“This matter shall be entrusted to—”

Xiao Cuan raised his eyes just enough, scanning across the assembled ministers before finally settling on—

Upon hearing His Majesty announce the royal selection, Yan Zhi went completely still.

He had His Majesty’s bow draped across his back, His Majesty’s weapons in his arms, the helmet His Majesty had just tossed to him clutched to his chest, and even the cream puff His Majesty had rewarded him with earlier stashed in his robe.

Every part of him was burdened with His Majesty’s belongings.

But… the royal selection…

His Majesty was going to hold a royal selection.

His Majesty was going to choose consorts and appoint an empress.

Then…

“Yan Zhi,” Xiao Cuan called.

Yan Zhi didn’t seem to hear, his mind a chaotic mess, swirling with a hundred worries.

What about him?

If His Majesty had an official empress, then what was he?

Would he still be His Majesty’s personal attendant? Or would His Majesty give him status too?

He…

“Yan Zhi!” Xiao Cuan raised his voice.

“Y-Your Majesty…” Yan Zhi jolted back to attention and responded.

“You will handle the royal selection.”

“Your Majesty, your servant…” Yan Zhi instinctively tried to decline.

The next moment, Xiao Cuan pinched his cheek hard, dragging him close.

“It’s you.”

“You’re simple-minded, following me every single day, won't be influenced by others.”

“My court must be filled with talent, my army must be invincible, and my harem should have every kind of beauty—do you understand?”

Seeing Yan Zhi still standing there dumbly, Xiao Cuan’s tone grew impatient. “Just pick the opposite of yourself, got it?”

“You’re foolish, so pick someone clever and sharp for me.”

“You’re ugly, so pick someone beautiful and easy on the eyes.”

“You’re common, so pick someone of noble birth.”

“Choose the opposite of you, but don’t try to worm your way into my harem in the chaos.”

“Do you understand now?”

Unconsciously, Yan Zhi’s eyes reddened, eyes growing watery.

He struggled to fight back tears, refusing to cry in front of His Majesty.

But Xiao Cuan gave his cheek a cruel twist, forcing a tear to drop with a splash.

Frowning, Xiao Cuan looked down, then lifted his hand and wiped the stray tear from his own knuckle back onto Yan Zhi’s face—even smearing it around.

“What's with the tears? Did I say something wrong? Or did I pinch you too hard?”

Yan Zhi shook his head, swiping at his eyes before bowing along with the other ministers. “Your servant hears and obeys.”

Kneeling on the ground with his head lowered, Yan Zhi suddenly noticed something wet in his chest.

Feeling inside, he realized the cream puff he had tucked away earlier had been crushed by the helmet His Majesty had thrown at him, the cream leaking everywhere.

It was all his own stupid fault for being so careless to not keep it safe.