Chapter 1795 – Artificial Halo
Feng Jue wasn’t a worm in Jiang Pengji’s belly, so how could he know everything?
The things Jiang Pengji was trying to hide were not only unknown to Feng Jue but even to Wei Ci, who was close by.
Normally, this would be the case, but unexpected events occur, and the secrets Jiang Pengji held weren’t ones everyone could overlook.
The person who wasn’t able to overlook it was none other than the Old Commander, who had a deep understanding of Jiang Pengji’s little schemes.
Your Dad: ???
Jiang Pengji was having breakfast, her taste recently shifting to a spice-filled routine; she single-handedly claimed all the chili peppers from the kitchen.
Breakfast should be light and nutritious, but who dared to tell Jiang Pengji ‘no’ when she was being willful?
At her strong insistence, the meat porridge and buns for breakfast were also sprinkled with chili powder—super spicy chili!
Anyone who took a glance would feel their tongues burn, but Jiang Pengji acted like nothing was amiss, finishing a bowl of porridge in just a few bites.
Not only did she love spicy food, but her appetite also skyrocketed.
Once, a basin of porridge was enough to make her feel 80% full, but now she needed two massive basins—big enough to bathe in—and at least ten buns!
If breakfast was like this, lunch and dinner were even more extravagant; her food consumption was roughly 50% greater than before.
Three Squirrels Snacks: Is the streamer’s stomach connected to a two-dimensional black hole?
Spicy Beef Tripe: Is this the key point? Isn’t the real highlight the fact that the streamer eats like a beast and doesn’t gain an ounce? So jealous!
The idle folks chimed in, born in a great culinary nation blessed with eight major cuisines, yet cursed with bodies that gain weight just from drinking water. The pain they felt couldn’t be shared with outsiders. Watching Jiang Pengji maintain her appetite year after year, their jealousy was practically oozing out of the screen.
Even though Jiang Pengji dined on a dark culinary creation of mushroom beef porridge with chili powder, just looking at her made the spectators hungry.
At that moment, a conspicuous golden comment flew across the screen—exclusive privilege of the unique bigshot in the live stream.
Don’t Want to Lose Weight: Wow!!! I finally caught a glimpse of the bigshot speaking for the first time!
The Old Commander was the only person the audience knew could handle Jiang Pengji, the bigshot among bigshots, also known simply as “the bigshot.”
Lying Flat and Letting It Be: Snagged the bigshot’s tail for a picture; those wanting to join the photo behind better form a line!!!
Foodie Enjoying Delicacies: Hmm? Why did the bigshot send two “???”? Is there some deep meaning?
Floating Through Life: I can almost see the bigshot’s confused inner self through those three question marks.
Gulping down the last bit of porridge, Jiang Pengji casually picked up the folded napkin to wipe her mouth and patted her flat stomach, letting out a satisfied burp.
“Content~~~”
Jiang Pengji sighed and looked up to find the third “???” floating across the center of the screen.
“Old Commander, have you been hacked?”
Three consecutive question marks didn’t really feel like her style, more like something a cheeky kid would type on a whim.
Your Dad: You’re the one who’s been hacked!!!
With a ding, a private message sounded.
The Old Commander wasn’t keen on having five hundred thousand idle folks watching his conversation with Jiang Pengji, so he opted for a private chat.
Jiang Pengji asked, “If you weren’t hacked, why are you just sending question marks?”
On the other end, the Old Commander went silent for a while before responding.
Your Dad: Don’t play dumb. I refuse to believe you haven’t noticed the changes in your body.
In their time, the standard for judging death transitioned from brain death to mental dissipating; in other words, as long as the spirit didn’t disperse, there was a chance of saving someone. In such cases, people focused more on mental state. The Old Commander didn’t believe Jiang Pengji was oblivious.
Notice what?
That her mental world had gained a faint, unfamiliar mental fluctuation.
Yes, she hadn’t misread! Just one!
The Old Commander noticed Jiang Pengji didn’t eliminate it but instead showed signs of nurturing it, which was intriguing.
Having seen a pig run doesn’t mean one hasn’t had pork, the Old Commander promptly deduced that this was a sign of natural pregnancy; in other words—
Jiang Pengji was pregnant!!!
Commander of the Federation, flaunting the law!!!
Jiang Pengji rested her chin on her hand, “You figured it out? Well, that’s understandable; it’s not something I could hide from you.”
Much like Jiang Pengji could easily tell Jiang Nongqin was pregnant, the Old Commander could tell if Jiang Pengji was expecting based on her mental state.
Your Dad: Why so sudden?
“Counting off the plans over the years, this year is just a bit more free. Too many people are nagging about marriage, and I wanted to give them a surprise.”
Your Dad: Are you sure this isn’t a shock?
“This is the Young Master they’ve long awaited; after the shock, doesn’t that lead to elation? That way, they won’t come pestering me one by one to give birth.”
Jiang Pengji yawned. Although pregnancy didn’t burden her much, sometimes she felt drowsy and lacking energy.
Your Dad: What about the others?
Jiang Pengji replied, “Let’s keep it quiet for now, to avoid unnecessary trouble or having ill-intentioned people scheme against me.”
The longer the pregnancy progressed, the greater the chances of being targeted by others. Jiang Pengji didn’t want to waste energy dealing with shadowy figures.
Perhaps having her mindset change, Jiang Pengji also planned to pave the way for the child within her.
No, perhaps it wasn’t just one child.
“When the time is right, I’ll announce it.”
When would that time be?
Wait!
Her conversation with the Old Commander was private; no one knew what the two were discussing.
After that, Jiang Pengji’s appetite and tastes underwent even more changes, eating more and trying even darker culinary concoctions.
Somehow, her food consumption got out, becoming fodder for gossip among the common people.
Wanzhou, being a place that valued plumpness, had the people assuming Jiang Pengji was trying to gain weight with all her efforts, yet she still couldn’t seem to get any heft.
“These rumors are absurd; who spread them?”
Jiang Pengji fumed, asserting that her appetite was perfectly normal! She wasn’t crying over being thin either!
The rumor-spreader better prepare for a beating!
Wei Ci noted, “The household is strictly regulated, and no one dares spread rumors. But do you remember dining with Feng Jue of the Feng family at Zhike Teahouse a while back? Even with such strict management at the teahouse, it was a public place with many people around; someone must have seen you eating a bit more…”
Clearly, it was just Jiang Pengji, Feng Jue, and Huang Song in a private room, yet they somehow gave off the vibe of thirty people eating!
With little inquiry, it became clear who consumed most of the food.
Jiang Pengji became famous for her large appetite.
As Yang Tao once joked, Jiang Pengji often conquered the world because of her massive food consumption; if she didn’t, she couldn’t even afford to support herself.
This fact spun numerous wild speculations in the ears of the commoners.
It was somewhat normal to guess Jiang Pengji’s large appetite was an attempt to gain weight, but others went as far as saying she was the reincarnation of a glutton, able to eat and be fierce.
Of course, some commoners claimed Jiang Pengji practiced divine skills, flying and vanishing; earthly food lacked sufficient spiritual energy, and quantity had to make up for quality. Regardless of eating enough for twenty robust men, she was barely getting to feeling 80% full.
Others speculated that Jiang Pengji wasn’t just one person; she had myriad clones, hence her gigantic appetite…
Jiang Pengji: “…”
Had the people of Wanzhou been brainwashed by the writers under Wei Ci’s command?
Didn’t they fear their imaginations running wild?
Of course not, as without wild imaginations, life would be as dull as stagnant water.
Fortunately, as the end of May approached and the scholar recruitment exams loomed, the people ceased to fixate on Jiang Pengji’s appetite and were drawn in by other juicy gossip. The scholar recruitment exams were not only the most bustling events in Wanzhou’s history but also a grand face-slapping extravaganza.
How many scholars from noble families, swearing not to compete in the exams against commoners, ended up getting slapped in the face with “truly fragrant” statements?
Not participating in the recruitment was simply impossible—forever impossible—because Jiang Pengji, that shameless woman, had ordered the abolition of recommendations, the end of filial piety evaluations, and the cessation of candidate promotions. However, saying it was abolished wasn’t quite right; officially, what was claimed was that after this round of recruitment exams, positions were temporarily sufficient. Each locality’s quota would prioritize talents emerging from the recruitment, repaying their trust and effort.
Jiang Pengji was trying it out—if this batch of talents brought in through the exams wasn’t capable, she could still swap them out for candidates from earlier systems.
If the talents from the exams weren’t sufficient, she could fill positions with others as substitutes.
Jiang Pengji hadn’t sealed her words, but looking at the students of Golden Scales Academy, a batch of leeks could mature in one to two years… I mean, one batch of graduates… If every year’s quota was prioritized for them, would students from non-academy factions ever have a chance to shine?
In other words, if they didn’t participate in the scholar recruitment exams, there would be no opportunity for official positions.
Though they might still engage with certain families as advisors or be an underhanded military advisor for local governments, this route had now been cut off. When Jiang Pengji announced this news, some astute scholars immediately sensed the danger.
Even if they ended up being face-slapped, they had to participate in this round of recruitment exams.
Missing this chance meant they might not know when another would arise.
Carrying similar thoughts, many scholars from side branches of noble families stealthily had their house servants or book boys sign them up.
Yet this was the first round of recruitment exams, the promotional efforts weren’t substantial, and the impact hadn’t yet penetrated deep; thus, not many chose to sign up.
Including the first batch of graduates from Golden Scales Academy, the total number of scholars signing up was just over a thousand.
This paled in comparison to the million signups for exams in the idle folk’s realm.
Jiang Pengji had a list of positions that were vacant in various state and local government offices; even if all those thousand candidates were admitted, vacancies would still remain. Of course, she didn’t plan to accept them all; certain key positions would be filled first, allowing various offices to function and enter a positive cycle—until the next batch of leeks… no, I mean students graduated, the situation would steadily improve.
Due to her physical condition, Jiang Pengji didn’t personally oversee this recruitment; other than her involvement in the final palace examination, the rest was handed over to her ministers. Perhaps due to Jiang Pengji frequently acting as a hands-off manager, no one suspected the deeper meaning behind her seeming indulgence this time.
Moreover, even without personally presiding over the scholar recruitment, Jiang Pengji still had plenty of work to do.
“Make sure to evaluate the character of these candidates; those with better character, more honest temperaments can be sent far away for training, and those a bit unruly can be placed nearby, keeping their positions from being too high, just to suppress their arrogance.” Jiang Pengji casually suggested, putting her subordinates in a dilemma.
Feng Zhen answered, “How can moral character be evaluated?”
Human hearts are harder to read than the stomachs; when faced with good actors, even devils can masquerade as innocent white lotuses.
Jiang Pengji remarked, “Isn’t there a record left for that batch of students graduating from Golden Scales Academy? Just check… If this batch of students does well enough and passes, they can be sent for training for three to four years. Afterward, they can be moved to higher positions, allowing me to feel more at ease…”
Feng Zhen was taken aback.
According to political norms, positions close to the power center… even minor officials are ranked higher than an important official in the remote areas.
It’s hard to explain unless broken down simply; being sent far away is tantamount to being marginalized, while those kept nearby are trusted.
Can a mayor of a capitol city and a local city mayor really be on the same level?
Feng Zhen thought Jiang Pengji had misunderstood and was about to clarify.
But Jiang Pengji interjected, “Do you know the saying ‘The higher the mountain, the farther the emperor’ means? If people with flaws in character or extreme temperaments are placed in unmonitored areas, they can deceive on high and oppress below, ultimately hurting the common people. Although the batch of students from Golden Scales Academy seems a bit naive, they all possess a spirited vigor. They’re often willing to do things that seasoned officials wouldn’t dare; such people are the most capable of striving for the welfare of the common folks. By sending them off far, they’re not only honed by challenges but also allowed to do real good for the people.”
Her perspective was different from the world, but it had its own rationale.
With this, Feng Zhen understood.
“Radical issues require forceful solutions; the concerns of our Lord… let’s hope they comprehend.”
Jiang Pengji replied, “I will guide them.”
Those backward and impoverished places must have their reasons.
Perhaps it’s due to natural disasters or corrupt practices, or perhaps collusion with local government—like how in the idle folk realm, some small places have dozens of families competing to be village heads, flaunting their official authority while secretly embezzling huge sums from the village relocation plans— in an age of undeveloped information, examples of such corruption were rampant. This phenomenon is what Feng Zhen refers to as “the persistent illness,” and the students from Golden Scales Academy are a potent remedy; even if it can’t eradicate it entirely, it can improve the situation significantly…
“Has there been a battle report from Wen Zheng today?”
Jiang Pengji had recently been particularly concerned about the situation in Zhong Zhao, almost daily asking if there were any new updates.
“Yes.”
When Feng Zhen saw the orange panda emblem on the envelope, he felt an alarm in his heart.
Previously, the battle reports from Zhong Zhao had all borne a green emblem, indicating daily items without anything significant.
The weight of the battle reports was denoted by the color of the seal on the envelope, ranging from green, yellow, orange, red, to pure black.
Although the orange emblem didn’t yet reach the level of using fast horses for delivery, it indicated a shift in the battlefield situation in Zhong Zhao that merited attention.
Jiang Pengji opened the battle report and read through it carefully before burning it.
“When the next battle report arrives, have it delivered immediately.”
Feng Zhen felt uneasy, “Is the situation in Zhong Zhao changing?”
Jiang Pengji smiled and replied, “There has been a change, but it’s a good thing. As for how good it is, that I can’t be sure yet.”
Your Dad: Why keep it hidden?
“Of course to build momentum; what else? There are no coincidences in this world, only meticulously planned schemes; the Old Commander should understand this principle.”
Your Dad: Build momentum?
Jiang Pengji declared, “For the little troublemaker in my belly.”
The one who gives birth to a child in the company of fate should also have a halo of “destiny’s bestowal.”
