The Empress’ Livestream

“Meng Heng, the eldest son of Meng Zhan, country chief of Meng country in Cang prefecture, son of the second wife of Liu She, Gu Zhen, is presently in danger of assassination, should the host accept him. If the mission is accomplished, the host will receive a “Mystery package” reward. Consequently, if the host fails, the host will receive level-one electric shock as punishment.”

Jiang Pengji closed her eyes, leaned her body against the wall of the carriage, and was in a state of rest when the long-forgotten sound by the electronic System drifted into her ears.

Meng Heng. She knitted her brows and tapped her fingers against the wall rhythmically. Mystery package?

The System coughed lightly and said, “Yes, this is unique to real time, mobilized missions. Likened to a golden treasure box, the probability of obtaining a treasure is high. I hope the host will consider this mission favorably. After all, it has been a while since you have done livestream missions. Thus, your reward is limited. This mission involves accepting Meng Heng, and bringing him through a stretch of road to succeed.”

Jiang Pengji sneered coldly and said, “System, you must have forgotten––I am not in control of the army here. To accept a person is not my prerogative. There are many passengers in the carriage, but they are mostly composed of weak scholars. If the mastermind decides to kill Meng Heng, danger will come upon them and a mishap to any is devastating. You want me to gamble on it?”

The System was taken aback. It tried to convince Jiang Pengji but it swallowed back its words. It clearly understood that its host was not easily fooled.

“If so, you can choose to give up on the mission. Should you fail, the punishment is a level-one electric shock. It really has minor consequences,” the System said with a hint of regret. “However, from my perspective, I implore that you accept the mission. After all, Meng Heng is not just Meng Zhan’s son, but also the only surviving bloodline of your aunt, Gu Zhen––your cousin.”

Jiang Pengji considered for a long while and asked, “What is the likelihood that Meng Heng will be in danger if I do not interfere?”

The System replied, “Based on background probability, it will be a narrow escape from death.”

Jiang Pengji looked strangely at the “Mystery package” on the System’s mission board. “Don’t disturb me. Let me reconsider.”

The System replied professionally, “Sure, I will not disturb you.”

Her expression did not change outwardly, but she sneered in her heart.

Finally, the System could not bear it.

Jiang Pengji was not anxious at all about leveling up the streaming room.

She said from the start that she refused to level up without opening up the “level up card.”

For more than half a year, she had saved points of popularity like a miser and was not moved no matter how the System tried to convince her.

Why? She could see through the System’s motives.

What’s so great about the System? It was but a compilation of algorithms… To think it wanted to outsmart a human like her? Wishful thinking!

The System did not have an advantage at the many crossfires. Jiang Pengji, in turn, understood its underlying intentions and what the points of popularity were about.

With regards to the System, the points of popularity were proportional to its leveling up––its source of daily energy and perhaps a greater function.

The daily points of popularity remained stagnant and low if the streaming room did not level up.

Unfortunately, the appetite of the System steadily increased, like that of a three or four-month-old baby to a one or two-year-old child. It required mouthfuls of milk at first, but now it would be full after a small bowl.

The upper quota of manpower in the streaming room had to increase under such circumstances so that the daily points of popularity were enough to satisfy the System’s appetite.

How did one increase the upper quota of manpower? There were two ways: to use a “level up card,” or the streamer paid to level up.

The reputable System made a small sacrifice for a greater gain for the sake of the streamer. When the quota of manpower increased, the streamer’s benefits increased proportionally.

But, was Jiang Pengji so foolish? If the System was hungry, so be it. It was none of her business! More importantly, Jiang Pengji suspected that it did not require so many points of popularity for the streaming room to level up!

Only God knew how much the System had benefited…

Jiang Pengji did not trust the words spoken by the System. Her solution was procrastination!

She would procrastinate until the System became impatient and needed points of popularity urgently, then it would pay from its own pocket to help her level up!

Honestly, that was how the first “level up card” came.

She bet that the real time, mobilized mission had no significance; it was solely because the System needed a reason to give Jiang Pengji a “level up card.” She was certain the “Mystery package” contained a “level up card.”

Ever since Jiang Pengji figured out that the System could read her mind, she spilt her consciousness in two. She deceived the System with her superficial, mental activities while she hid her real intentions in her deeper level of consciousness… Ah! The conclusion was that the mission would be accomplished, completed or not.

“I will accept.”

Just as the System was feeling uneasy, Jiang Pengji’s three gentle words caused it to cry for joy and find relief.

It was rare that the host would consent so easily.

“Taxue, I am going down to ride the horse for a while. My back is going to ache if I continue to sit in the carriage.”

Jiang Pengji passed the hand warmer to Taxue to hold, opened the carriage curtains slightly, exited sideways, and quickly closed the carriage curtains.

“Langjun, please remember to drape your coat. You do not want to not catch a cold.” Taxue stuck her head out of the carriage and passed a coat to Jiang Pengji, who had steadily gotten on the horse.

With a flick of her hand, as if her coat had eyes, it obediently covered her body.

“Look, Zude, such are young men––full of vitality, unafraid of the cold. One can’t help but be envious.”

Master Yuanjing heard the commotion, opened the carriage curtains slightly to look, and smiled with relief. He held a steaming hot hand warmer in his hands. He wished he could bundle his entire body in one.

Zude fiddled with the silver charcoal in the brazier while laughing and shifted it further to prevent anything from burning.

“Teacher, your strength is commensurate to your age; you are not losing to the youths. You recently played in the water with your friend, while your student stood by the shore, too afraid to go down.” Zude laughed. With a hint of bashfulness he said, “Your student is the first to disagree if you call yourself old”.

Master Yuanjing laughed involuntarily. “This mouth of yours… Your level of sweet talk increases by the day. You speak of this old man in such a way that he became two catty’s lighter.”.

The previous snow subsided. While snow began to fall again, the cold wind that blew past was like small knives slashing. It made one’s face burn in pain.

Jiang Pengji wore her hood and held the reins with both hands. Her horse spurred and went from last to first in the group, opening the pathway forward.

“One that cannot be tamed.” Wei Ci was engrossed in his book when he heard the loud sound of a horse’s hooves approaching. He lifted the curtains of his carriage only to see a white shadow drifting past. The cold wind blew across his face, unexpectedly brightening his mood.

Lu Zheng shivered, huddled pitifully, and said, “Zixiao, please bring the curtains down. I am freezing.”