One cannot shoulder all responsibilities alone—he needed to take good care of his health to avoid meeting the same fate as his counterpart in the original timeline, who had mysteriously died an untimely death.

Yue Fuguang had no idea that a few strawberries would lead Emperor Mingxi, who had always been decisive and handled everything himself, to decide to "train" the Crown Prince by having him assist in governance.

He would never again tread the old path of overworking himself into illness, leaving himself vulnerable to poisoning, and ultimately meeting a sudden, tragic end.

While poisoning attempts might still occur, Yue Fuguang had already "butterflied away" Emperor Mingxi's exhaustion-induced ailments, thanks to the Crown Prince's assistance in state affairs and the cooperation of ministers who refused to let their nation fall.

So when she received a large sum of reward points, she was momentarily stunned. After understanding the reason, she couldn’t help but laugh—was this really how it worked?

If the Great Yan Dynasty continued to improve in all aspects, subtly altering the fates of many, wouldn’t her points just keep pouring in?

Yue Fuguang was in high spirits, and so were the households of the officials who had come to enjoy hot pot.

Without exception, everyone—including Emperor Mingxi and the Crown Prince—had pocketed the empty glass bottles.

These people were quite refined; by the afternoon, Yue Fuguang had received a pile of thank-you gifts from various households, even from the imperial family.

She examined them one by one—excellent, all gold, jade, pearls, and jadeite, her favorites. Not a single piece of worthless silver in sight.

The officials’ households were delighted because some had shared the drinks they brought home, while the remaining glass bottles became elegant and valuable vases or decorations.

The imperial palace, however, was far less harmonious.

The root of the issue lay in the strawberries and vegetables Yue Fuguang had sent. The imperial family—princes, princesses, and high-ranking consorts—had all heard Yue Fuguang’s inner thoughts.

They knew full well that anything from her hands was extraordinary.

She had mentioned in court her plans to build greenhouses for growing new varieties of vegetables and fruits, and the princes present had heard it.

Later, when the Empress Dowager ordered the Ministry of Works to assist the Junior Mentor in constructing greenhouses at her residence, it was no secret.

In the harem, secrets were nonexistent—once one person knew, the entire palace would soon find out.

So it wasn’t just the Empress Dowager and the emperor waiting for Yue Fuguang’s produce; the entire harem was eagerly anticipating it.

Some knew their place—unfavored, they wouldn’t get a share of such luxuries no matter how many rounds were made.

These were the spectators, content to watch the drama unfold, finding joy in the rare excitement of palace life.

Others, holding high rank, having borne imperial children, or basking in the emperor’s favor, believed they deserved a share of the immortal’s bounty.

They trusted His Majesty wouldn’t forget them or their children.

Emperor Mingxi hadn’t forgotten—which was precisely why he was now troubled.

Faced with the eager eyes and pleading looks of his consorts and children, he stared at the basket of strawberries and two baskets of vegetables, losing several strands of hair in distress.

Who to give, who to deny—it was an impossible decision.

Yue Fuguang’s gifts weren’t abundant, but they weren’t scarce either. She had already sent separate portions to the Empress Dowager and the empress, so they could be excluded. But the others…

Since ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌‌ ‌ ‌‌ ‌‌‌ ‌‌ ‌ ‌‌ ‌ ‌‌ ‌‌‌ ‌‌ ‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌ ‌‌‌ ‌ ‌‌ ‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌ ‌ ‌‌ ‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌‌ ‌ ‌‌ ‌ ‌ ‌‌ ‌ ‌‌ ‌‌‌‍his return from Yue Fuguang’s residence that afternoon, he had received eight rounds of delicacies from various palaces, along with invitations for evening visits.

Did the consorts not know Emperor Mingxi had gone to Yue Fuguang’s for a feast?

Their gifts and messages all served the same purpose—to remind him of their existence. The emperor knew this, which only deepened his dilemma. Favorites or not, they were all his, and he couldn’t bear to slight any.

If Yue Fuguang were here, she’d surely call him a natural-born philanderer, a walking harem protagonist.

For the consorts, this wasn’t just about food—it was about their standing in the emperor’s heart.

Favor or neglect would be laid bare.

Emperor Mingxi looked up at the Crown Prince, who had been summoned earlier and had since been diligently reviewing memorials. The Crown Prince’s mind was at ease.

In the past, if his father had asked him to assist with governance, he would have hesitated, fearing it was another test of his loyalty.

But after everyone heard Yue Fuguang’s inner thoughts, the Crown Prince felt transparent before her.

To avert the Great Yan Dynasty’s impending doom in a decade, he wouldn’t act recklessly—and he believed his father felt the same.

So when Emperor Mingxi proposed his assistance, the Crown Prince agreed without hesitation.

He had sat in the hall for hours, not even glancing up at the stream of eunuchs and maids delivering soups and teas.

Unbeknownst to him, news of the Crown Prince helping the emperor with memorials had already spread like wildfire through the harem.

Perhaps he anticipated it but simply didn’t care.

With Yue Fuguang around, his position as Crown Prince was unshakable.

Seeing his son work silently, Emperor Mingxi finally broke the silence. "Eldest, how should these be distributed?"

The Crown Prince followed his father’s gaze to the three baskets on the floor. The vibrant red and lush green stood out starkly against the withered yellow leaves and grass of late autumn.

The strawberries’ sweet fragrance was especially tantalizing.

Having tasted them before, he knew just how delicious they were.

Xie Zhiyan swallowed discreetly. His father addressing him as "eldest" rather than "Crown Prince" signaled this was a father-son, not sovereign-subject, conversation.

So he replied, "Father, I’ve already had my share and won’t compete with my siblings. As for distribution, perhaps consorts with children and their respective princes and princesses could receive portions.

For those without children, Father may distribute as he sees fit—whether much, little, or none, it is all your grace."

Noting his father’s lack of objection, he continued, "The harem is vast. Father could also separate the strawberries and vegetables—those receiving strawberries might get fewer or no vegetables, with one exception."

He looked up with filial devotion. "According to the Artifact’s words, these foods benefit health with regular consumption. Father, you must reserve some for the imperial kitchens. I firmly oppose giving everything away.

If my siblings and the consorts resent it, let them blame me—it was I who stopped you."

In one breath, Xie Zhiyan had showcased his responsibility as the eldest brother, his fraternal devotion, subtly undermined his ambitious siblings, and flaunted his filial piety—all while scoring points with Emperor Mingxi.

True enough, the emperor nodded in satisfaction, especially at the suggestions of separate distribution and keeping a portion for himself.