NOVEL WEB Chapter 126: A Penny For Your Pride
Two ledgers sat open in front of me. One detailed the official stipend granted by the Ministry of Internal Affairs to the Crown Prince's household. The other outlined the real expenses.
They didn't match.
Not even close.
Too many courtyards. Too many servants. Too many women who thought a dozen pairs of embroidered slippers each season was a human right. The numbers bled like a gut wound.
The Crown Prince wasn't poor—but he certainly wasn't as rich as his women pretended.
I dipped the brush into the ink and began to write.
By the next morning, scrolls were hand-delivered to each registered concubine.
Each one contained her new monthly budget.
Each one was stamped with the seal of the Crown Princess.
And each one was, by noble standards, insultingly practical.
Food allowances were slashed. Cosmetic imports curtailed. Servant wages capped. Entertaining guests? Forbidden without written permission.
Predictably, the first knock came before the tea water had even boiled.
"Lady Qiao wishes to speak with you," the steward said, eyes avoiding mine.
"Let her in."
Lady Qiao entered like she thought the room belonged to her. She was dressed in robin's-egg blue with silver thread so fine it shimmered when she breathed.
"My lady," she said with a curtsy so smooth I almost applauded, "I received the budget scroll this morning. I believe there may have been an error."
"There wasn't," I said, motioning to the chair opposite me.
She sat delicately. "Perhaps a misreading, then. It says here I am to receive eight taels for the month. That must be meant for the maids."
"It's meant for you."
A beat of silence.
"I spend more than that on makeup in a week," she said, laughing lightly. "And now you expect me to pay for my food? My servants? Furnish my own courtyard on just that little bit of scrap you are giving us?"
"Yes."
Her fan clicked open.
"My father would be... quite alarmed to hear that his daughter is expected to live like a minor concubine from the provinces."
"Then he is welcome to recall you to his estate," I said.
She blinked. "I beg your pardon?"
"You are, of course, free to return to your family if life here proves too austere."
Her grip tightened on the fan.
"The Crown Prince is not rich," I added calmly. "Not compared to the Emperor. Not compared to the ministers who take bribes to look the other way. The Crown Prince is doing everything he can with what he is given and still continues to offer charity. This household will reflect his actions and his fortitude."
She tried to recover. "Surely, as the Crown Princess, you understand the importance of presentation. We represent the Crown Prince's dignity."
I smiled.
"And we will do so... beautifully and frugally."
She stood, curtsied again—more stiffly this time—and swept out in silence.
She was the first, but she was not the last.
Lady An appeared just after the sun reached the roof tiles.
"Some of us came here with a certain... expectation of dignity," she said, her voice breathy and innocent. "A reduction of cosmetics is one thing, but to limit servant rotations to three per courtyard? Some of us have delicate constitutions."
I took her scroll and flipped it open.
"You currently have nine."
"Only five are trained."
"You may keep the best three."
She flushed. "This feels... targeted."
"It is," I replied, sealing the scroll again. "I'm targeting waste."
She didn't even bow when she left.
-----
By mid-morning, the courtyards were humming with restrained outrage.
I watched from my window as one girl angrily flung her scroll into the koi pond. Another was crying to a steward about a lost shipment of imported jasmine paste.
Lady Yuan, of course, didn't come.
She would wait. Measure. Enter the stage last.
And when she did, it would be with a silk-gloved dagger and a compliment on her tongue.
That was fine.
Let them come.
-----
Concubine Yun returned just after noon. She didn't knock.
"I've had three women threaten to starve themselves," she said, pouring tea without asking. "One said she would rather die than wear linen this winter."
"I suggest she start digging her grave now," I said.
She smiled faintly. "You do realize you've just declared war?"
"I declared a budget."
"To them, it's the same thing."
I looked up from my ledger. "Let me be clear, Yun. I don't care if they hate me. I don't care if they whisper or wail or break mirrors over their pillows. They'll live within their means or they'll leave."
She raised a brow. "And if they don't?"
"Then I'll make them."
Her eyes glittered. "You're beginning to sound like you belong here."
I didn't answer.
She already knew I did.
By evening, Lady Yuan finally arrived.
She did not knock. She did not curtsy. She walked into my receiving room like a guest of honor, her fan folded tightly in her hand.
"I see you've found your weapon of choice," she said, eyeing the ledgers.
"Numbers don't lie," I replied.
"No," she said, settling into the chair opposite me. "But they can be... sharpened."
She unfolded the scroll with a flick of her wrist.
"Five taels," she said, voice soft. "A girl in the outer districts spends more on wedding clothes."
"You're not getting married," I said. "You're living here. And until I see evidence of contribution, not consumption, five taels is generous."
She tilted her head. "Contribution. That's an interesting word for a wife who holds the household and yet leaves no heir."
It was a low blow, delivered with elegance.
I didn't blink.
"And yet, I still sit in the First Wife's seat. Imagine how small you must be if you can't dislodge even that."
That was the difference between us.
She fought with implication.
I fought with outcome.
She exhaled, perfectly composed. "Shall we continue pretending we're discussing budgets?"
I set my brush down. "No. I believe everything worth saying has been said."
She smiled.
And left.
When the room was empty again, I leaned back slightly and let the silence settle.
Yaozu emerged from the shadows near the window.
"You're bleeding them."
"I'm reminding them."
"Of what?"
"That nothing here is permanent. And everything is earned."
He nodded.
"They're going to hate you more than they fear you."
"Then I'll make them fear me more than they hate me."
He paused.
"And after that?"
I met his gaze.
"After that, they'll respect me. Whether they want to or not."