Chapter 10

The gate of the Imperial Astronomical Observatory was far from grand. Compared to the other splendid and solemn buildings within the palace, it appeared rather modest. The outer walls were weathered and stained, the air filled with the scent of rust and sawdust. Above the gate hung a somewhat worn plaque, its surface faintly cracked upon closer inspection.

The chief supervisor of the Observatory was a man around fifty, his demeanor fitting the stereotypical image Chu Yingzhao held of a science and engineering type. After bowing to her, he silently raised his hand to lead the way.

Anyone with a discerning eye could tell he clearly wanted to speak—but, plagued by social anxiety, he was battling his own hesitation inwardly.

After about five minutes of this back-and-forth, Chu Yingzhao finally broke the silence, “What is it you want to say?”

The chief supervisor struggled to speak, “...Your Majesty, Deputy Supervisor Bai is still young, straightforward in nature, unskilled in words... Please forgive him.”

Chu Yingzhao nodded, unsurprised. She had expected as much. After all, the senior staff in this department were no different—indeed, most officials and students passing through the Imperial Astronomical Observatory fit the public stereotype of scientific experts: silent, meticulous, solitary... and with rather unhealthy-looking hair.

As an emperor with a background in civil engineering herself, she could not help but feel a pang of empathy.

Unsurprisingly, the scene in the inner chamber was even more out of sync with the outside world.

The spacious room was nearly filled with every manner of tool, book, and instrument, forcing careful steps to avoid disturbing anything important. A celestial globe stood by the window, half-covered in dust as if untouched for a long time. Against the wall rested a large furnace that looked like an alchemical device but had been modified beyond recognition; nearby lay several bundles of dried herbs.

The tables were cluttered with woodworking planes, ink lines, measuring cabinets, and half-finished small parts scattered even in the corners.

Sunlight filtered through a small window, casting a faint sheen over the objects.

Chu Yingzhao bent down to pick up a tiny gear. Its delicate patterns and smooth craftsmanship caught her eye, compelling her to study it a moment longer.

What was even more curious was that despite the initial impression of disorder, the chaos carried a subtle sense of order. Each item seemed thoughtfully placed—both convenient to reach and clearly segmented by function.

Following the supervisor’s direction, she spotted a youth in a green robe crouched in a corner, engrossed in tinkering with something. His movements were skilled, his fingers deftly adjusting the object, which appeared to be a finely crafted instrument component nearing completion.

Out of respect for the technician, Chu Yingzhao dismissed the approaching supervisor with a wave and began to wander alone through the small courtyard.

Her gaze was soon drawn to a hexagonal object carelessly placed among stacks of books. Each of its six faces bore a different color—like a distorted Rubik’s Cube. She picked it up and toyed with it, surprised to find a slight resistance and a crisp clicking sound as it turned.

She tried to solve one face, then the second, the third... quickly discerning the pattern, she aligned all eight faces correctly.

Just as she was about to return the puzzle to its place, a clear youthful voice rang out behind her: “You solved it?”

Turning, she found the boy standing beside her. He was about sixteen or seventeen, his fair face bright with intelligence, his large, shining eyes perfectly matching his clear voice.

Chu Yingzhao inwardly gasped—he looked underage. Was this really the third male lead?

“You’re so clever!” he exclaimed, brushing dust off his robe but keeping his gaze fixed on the cube in her hands with genuine admiration. “My colleagues couldn’t even get one side right the first time they touched it!”

Before she could question this further, the system promptly responded:

[Task Complete: Opening the Chapter of Dimensions—Relationship with Bai Wenqing +1, Current Relationship: 1
Reward Unlocked: Research Module (Beginner)
Current Features Include: Historical Technology Summary, Basic Engineering Guidance]

[Bai Wenqing Favorability +10, Current Favorability: 11]

[Bai Wenqing’s cumulative favorability reached 10; Achievement Unlocked: “Inquiring the Horizon.” Achievement Reward: Commemorative Voucher.]

Chu Yingzhao raised an eyebrow but did not immediately check the unlocked research module. Instead, she nodded and handed the cube back.

Bai Wenqing took it but did not examine it closely, tossing it casually onto the table. Then he leaned in, his expression bright and earnest: “Who are you? Which noble’s daughter? Coming to the Observatory just to fiddle with toys?”

Chu Yingzhao thought he was indeed innocent, but where was the silence? His words were quite a torrent!

“It’s not a toy,” she corrected him, even remembering to adjust her self-reference, “I’m here because I need a large stove.”

“A stove?” The boy showed no surprise, still smiling brightly. “What kind of stove?”

“An efficient one,” she replied succinctly. “Low fuel consumption, rapid boiling, with multiple layers.”

“What type of fuel? Should the combustion chamber have a straight or winding exhaust path?” Bai Wenqing shook his sleeve and straightened slightly, his tone suddenly focused and brisk. “What material are the pots? What are you cooking? How much supply is needed each time period?”

“Mixed firewood and grass, with concentrated fuel combustion at the base; a mostly sealed combustion chamber, winding exhaust paths to maximize heat use.” Chu Yingzhao met his gaze and laid out the details clearly:

“Traditional cast iron pots with thick walls that conduct heat slowly; boiling water that’s only simply filtered, so some impurities remain. As for supply... the more, the better.”

Suddenly, Bai Wenqing went silent.

He tilted his head, staring at her in puzzlement for a while before his gaze drifted away, seemingly lost in thought.

Chu Yingzhao did not rush to interrupt. She picked up the cube again, scrambled it, and began solving it anew.

After a moment, he abruptly asked, “Which family’s daughter are you? Do you have a fiancé?”

“?” A question mark appeared over her head. She returned the question, “What does that have to do with the stove?”

“Nothing,” Bai Wenqing replied without hesitation, his tone firm. “But if you don’t have a fiancé, may I propose?”

“...No. My father just died, I’m quite busy, no time.” Chu Yingzhao even opened the system panel, meeting the 11-point favorability with a look of puzzlement. “Besides, you don’t actually like me; why would you think of proposing?”

What was he babbling about? If he had the guts, he should unlock all the modules for me first and prove his worth like Dark Guard Brother!

“...Alright then.” Bai Wenqing looked a bit disappointed. He sighed softly, grabbed a stack of papers, and began sketching, occasionally emphasizing, “I really like you! You’re smarter than anyone else, I rarely talk this much with anyone... How many layers do you want for the stove?”

Seeing he was finally getting to the point, Chu Yingzhao skipped other irrelevant topics and immediately began brainstorming: “Four layers would be the most efficient, but it’s structurally complex and probably won’t be ready in time... Three layers? Bottom for fire, first and second for boiling water, third could dry grain.”

Bai Wenqing couldn’t help but glance at her again.

But the empress was busy flipping through the mental pages of her vast archives and had no time for a tender gaze.

Not receiving any response, the boy drooped his head and proceeded to draft diagrams.

Fortunately, although the third male lead’s thoughts jumped wildly, he was truly skilled in his field.

After hearing her simple description, he actually recreated the schematic from her memory in full detail—including exact numbers, scale, and even a new fuel mix plan.

A first-rate ally; the empress’s favorability increased by 1.

At this point, Chu Yingzhao had successfully completed the trilogy of doubting, understanding, and respecting the romance system.

Five male leads ×
Five free workers √

She even felt a bit regretful. Since this was an empress setting, why not design a few more male leads? If there could be one... three... no, five Huo Qubings, five Zhuge Liangs, five Lubans, plus five Yu Qians... She dared not imagine how happy she would be as a dog emperor.

In short, full support for the male leads’ fierce competition—come drain yourselves for me!

However, her taste for spiritual hard work and epic-level fantasies didn’t stop the empress from continuing her important tasks.

She handed the sulking Bai Wenqing and the blueprints to the supervisor, instructing him to use simple materials to build a small model to test feasibility. At the same time, she opened the system interface to review the newly unlocked research module.

Compared to the other two parts, the research module was quite sparse. It contained no detailed charts or layered maps.

The historical technology summary only covered prehistoric to Qin and Han periods; subsequent content remained grayed out as “To Be Unlocked.”

Her current alternate dynasty’s basic technology level was roughly that of the Sui and Tang dynasties.

In other words, this module was currently useless. Worse, even if upgraded to intermediate level, it would likely remain a mediocre product—

If ancient technology were divided into three stages, the Northern and Southern Dynasties through the Sui and Tang periods would be the second stage. To access newer technology, she would have to unlock the advanced module.

Fortunately, the basic engineering guidance was still useful.

Her eyes skimmed the contents: geology, structures, water conservancy, transportation... public facilities.

She opened the last item and was pleased to see it included sanitary buildings, educational venues, and most importantly—temporary shelters.

“Refugees” referred to those without fixed homes or means of livelihood.

It was early spring, the weather warming; providing temporary housing would suffice to meet their basic survival needs. As for sources of livelihood...

Given the current circumstances, land reform was out of the question, but the emperor could still allocate some suburban land—she was well-practiced at dealing with corrupt officials by now.

Yet, for some reason, the lingering sense of urgency in her mind did not dissipate.

There must be some important matter yet to be addressed, she realized, but no matter how hard she tried, she could not grasp the thought.

Could it be the salt and iron monopoly issue? But she had not yet taken concrete steps, and there seemed no better solution at hand.

Perhaps eliminating just one Ministry of Revenue official was insufficient; the minister himself might need to be removed for greater effect?

But—

As she paused to organize the mental notes in her death notebook, faint sounds came from the gate.

Looking up, she saw Bai Wenqing returning, half his head peeking out from the entrance, his eyes moist and doe-like.

“Your Majesty!” he called out, his expression somewhat restrained but still bright and cheerful.

Ah, the supervisor must have informed him about the empress’s status. Chu Yingzhao raised an eyebrow. “Hmm?”

“I know, you’re under three years of mourning,” he said candidly. “After those three years, may I enter Your Majesty’s harem?”

...?

Chu Yingzhao typed out her third question mark of the day.

“No.” But after he demonstrated his abilities, she was noticeably calmer. “However, I allow you to accompany me for now, to follow me on patrol—”

The emperor folded her sleeves, her slender fingers brushing the dark embroidery at the cuff.

A subtle chill still lingered between her brows, yet in that movement, she lifted her eyes slightly and offered him the first smile since their meeting.

The smile was composed and faint, but the stark contrast was dizzying.

Bai Wenqing vaguely heard her whisper, “—Can you ride a horse?”