The Emperor's Thoughts

In the imperial city, inside a flower hall draped in wisteria, Ying Zheng rose from among the delicate bodies of several palace maids, drenched in sweat.

Casting a satisfied glance at the maids, Ying Zheng smiled at Zhao Lu, who stood nearby with his head bowed, motionless as a statue. "Come up with some pleasant titles and confer them all as concubines. Pick a few nice courtyards and let them live together."

The palace maids, all of humble birth, were wild with joy. They hurriedly knelt before Ying Zheng, thanking him over and over. In the past, Ying Zheng had been watched day and night by a pack of tigress-like imperial consorts and concubines. If an ordinary palace maid so much as showed her face before the emperor, she would either be beaten to death or thrown into a well.

They had never dreamed that Ying Zheng was not that soft-hearted Ying Zheng, unable to be ruthless toward the women of his harem. Today, he had slapped an imperial consort who tried to ingratiate herself before him and sent her flying, then promptly found several young and beautiful palace maids to amuse himself with to his heart's content. What was more, he had elevated these lowest-ranking maids to concubines. It was like a minor clerk in a county office suddenly becoming a fourth-rank minister of the realm—"soaring to the heavens in a single step" was not enough to describe their delight.

Laughing heartily, Ying Zheng reached out and stroked a young palace maid's face. In high spirits, he let them attend him as he bathed and changed, then put on a loose set of casual robes. He strolled lazily out of the flower hall and settled comfortably atop an ornamental rock riddled from end to end with strange holes.

"Zhao