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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
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They were surrounded by the deafening noise, the blinding heat, and the suffocating smoke of industry. But in their eyes, there was no exhaustion, only a fanatical, unyielding devotion to the Emperor's vision. Through their relentless, obsessive labor, they were guaranteeing that Hengyuan's technological supremacy would soon tear through the archaic traditions of warfare, effortlessly crossing oceans and shaking the very foundations of the world.
As the deafening, earth shaking roar of the steam boilers and the sharp, explosive cracks of the newly forged firearms continued to echo through ? blistering heat of the Imperial Workshop, Lie Fan made a conscious, deliberate choice to step away.
For months, his mind had been a relentless, churning vortex of grand strategy, logistical nightmares, psychological warfare, and apocalyptic technological leaps.
He had shattered the northern steppes, rewritten the very bureaucratic foundation of his government, and laid the groundwork for an unprecedented naval invasion across the eastern ocean. He had operated as the Emperor for so long that the heavy, iron mantle of the sovereign was beginning to physically ache against his shoulders.
He needed a reprieve. He needed to step back from the crushing, infinite burdens of the state and remember what he was actually fighting to protect.
Leaving the suffocating coal smoke of the foundries and the intense, high stakes plotting of the war rooms behind, Lie Fan retreated deep into the most secure, secluded, and serene sectors of the inner palace.
Here, the air did not smell of sulfur or sweat, but of blooming jasmine, sweet osmanthus, and premium sandalwood. The harsh clash of iron was replaced by the gentle, melodic plucking of a guqin and the soft rustle of expensive silk. This was his sanctuary, the only place on the entire continent where he did not have to be a god of war or an omniscient political architect. He was peacefully and genuinely spending time with his family.
He especially cherished this rare, unbroken time with his beloved wives, the women who formed the true, unshakeable emotional core of his life. Gathered in a magnificent, sunlit pavilion overlooking a pristine lotus pond, the five pillars of his domestic world were relaxing together in rare harmony.
There was Ying Yue, his first love and the gentle, foundational anchor of his household, her serene presence a soothing balm to his frayed nerves. Beside her sat Diao Chan, her peerless, ethereal beauty radiating an effortless grace as she poured fragrant tea, her perceptive eyes missing absolutely nothing.
Reclining on a soft velvet cushion with a bamboo scroll in hand was Cai Wenji, the brilliant, elegant scholar whose mind could spar with the greatest academics in the realm. Nearby, absentmindedly polishing a small, beautifully crafted practice dagger, was Lu Lingqi, the fierce, martial Valkyrie who had stood shoulder to shoulder with him in the vanguard. And completing the circle was Zhen Ji, the regal, shrewd, and breathtakingly beautiful woman whose sharp intellect managed the intricate social politics of the imperial harem with flawless precision.
Lie Fan leaned back against a pile of plush silk pillows, a cup of warm tea in his hand, simply watching them converse and laugh. It was a picture of absolute, idyllic tranquility.
However, even in his moments of deepest relaxation, Lie Fan's reincarnated mind rarely ever stopped calculating, observing, and innovating.
As he watched his wives move, he couldn't help but notice the restrictive, cumbersome nature of the traditional Han-era clothing they wore. The women of this era, especially those of high noble birth, were required by strict societal norms to wear multiple, heavy layers of silk and linen.
They wore wide sleeved robes, complex overlapping collars, and restrictive chest binding garments that completely flattened their figures and offered absolutely no practical structural support.
As the spring began to give way to the humid, sweltering heat of the impending summer, Lie Fan knew how incredibly uncomfortable, heavy, and unhygienic those traditional layers could become.
While watching Lu Lingqi adjust a particularly stiff, restrictive inner sash with a subtle grimace of annoyance, an idea suddenly sparked in Lie Fan's mind. He began thinking of recreating women's undergarments from his past life, specifically the structured bras and the practical, breathable underwear of the modern era, to help make their daily lives much more comfortable, supportive, and infinitely easier.
His mind quickly spiraled into the logistical and economic possibilities. He realized almost instantly that this was not just a matter of domestic comfort. If manufactured correctly, utilizing the finest silks for the aristocracy and durable, breathable cotton for the peasantry, it could easily become a massively lucrative business.
It was a completely untapped market that would undoubtedly be deeply loved by both the wealthy noblewomen of the capital and the hardworking commoners in the fields, once they experienced the sheer freedom and comfort the garments provided.
However, just as the capitalist and caring husband within him prepared to voice this brilliant idea aloud, the supreme Emperor within him slammed on the brakes.
He quickly hesitated, his dark eyes narrowing slightly as he played out the political simulations in his head. He knew full well the era he was living in. The Han dynasty societal structures were built upon rigid, unyielding pillars of Confucian modesty and incredibly strict traditional values.
The conservative scholars of the Imperial Court, the very men he was currently trying to unite under a new banner of Nationalism, were notoriously prudish and deeply resistant to radical changes in attire, viewing it as a symptom of moral decay.
If it was publicly known that this scandalous, highly intimate, and form fitting revolution in women's clothing was come up with by the Emperor himself... the political fallout would be a massive, unnecessary headache. He could already see the censorate furiously writing memorials.
Worse, it would definitely be ungraciously recorded down in history by the rigid scribes. Long after his conquests were forgotten, future generations of moralists would weaponize this specific invention to besmirch his grand, terrifying reputation, painting him not as the glorious unifier of the world, but as a decadent, lecherous ruler who spent his time designing women's undergarments.
He could not issue an imperial edict about underwear. It was beneath the dignity of the Dragon Throne.
But Lie Fan was nothing if not a master of indirect warfare. Using his cunning, deeply manipulative intellect, he formulated a flawless strategy. He wouldn't invent the garments; his wives would.
He would simply be dropping the ideas and suggestions subtly into his casual conversations with them, planting the seed of the concept so carefully that they would naturally think of the ideas by themselves, allowing them to take the credit and shield the throne from any scholarly backlash.
And that is exactly what he did.
Setting his teacup down on the low sandalwood table, Lie Fan sighed, stretching his broad shoulders. "The weather grows warm incredibly fast this year," he casually observed, looking toward the lotus pond. "I noticed the palace guards sweating through their padded under armor today. It made me realize how restrictive our traditional garments are. Qi'er, my love, you were shifting uncomfortably earlier. Does the traditional chest wrap restrict your breathing during your morning martial forms?"
Lu Lingqi paused, looking up from her dagger. "It does," she admitted, her brow furrowing in slight frustration. "It is designed to flatten, not to support. When I swing a halberd, the fabric bites into the ribs, and it traps the heat terribly. It is highly impractical for movement."
"It is not just for martial forms, sister," Cai Wenji chimed in, setting her scroll down. "When sitting at a writing desk for hours, the stiff inner layers do nothing to support the back. They merely compress. It is an archaic design, prioritizing modesty over the actual anatomical needs of a woman's body."
Lie Fan leaned forward slightly, resting his chin on his hand, acting as though he were merely a curious observer. "It is fascinating that our engineers can design steam engines to pump water uphill, yet the tailors of the capital have not thought to design inner garments that actually follow the natural curves and support the weight of the body. Imagine if the inner layer wasn't a flat wrap, but two structured... cups, perhaps? Supported by tailored straps over the shoulders to distribute the weight, rather than crushing the chest flat. Made of breathable silk instead of heavy linen."
He took a slow sip of his tea. "And the lower garments... all those voluminous layers of trousers and skirts. In the sweltering heat of the south, it must be a nightmare for hygiene. What if there were a simple, closely tailored lower garment? Something minimal, highly breathable, that offered freedom of movement without the terrible bunching of excess fabric?"
His wives were all brilliant women. They were great in their own right, managing massive aspects of his domestic empire, and they were incredibly, sharply perceptive.
They did not need him to draw a blueprint. The seed was planted, and it sprouted instantly.
Ying Yue's eyes widened slightly as her administrative mind grasped the sheer utility of the concept. Diao Chan's elegant fan paused mid flutter as she visualized the aesthetic and liberating comfort of such a design. Zhen Ji's sharp, calculating eyes practically flashed with the immediate realization of the economic potential such garments would have among the aristocratic ladies of the capital.
They caught up immediately to the subtle hints and the underlying, revolutionary idea.
For a moment, the pavilion was quiet as the five women looked at each other, the same profound realization dawning on all of them. And then, the silence broke into a flurry of animated, hushed voices. The five of them soon begun to passionately discuss it among themselves, leaving Lie Fan entirely out of the immediate design loop as they rapidly traded ideas on silk tensile strength, cotton breathability, and structural tailoring.
Of course, they were not fools. They knew their husband perfectly.
At one point during their intense, private discussions, Zhen Ji stopped, turning her beautiful, piercing gaze toward Lie Fan. A slow, knowing, and deeply amused smile spread across her red lips. She playfully nudged Diao Chan, who covered her mouth with her fan to hide a soft giggle.
They playfully and shyly blamed their husband for having the audacity to think of such incredibly intimate, unorthodox things.
"Only our Husband," Zhen Ji teased, her cheeks blushing a delightful shade of pink at his subtle, scandalous implications, "could sit in a pavilion surrounded by his wives and secretly strategize about the structure of our most intimate garments."
"Truly, a mind that never rests," Cai Wenji added with a soft, melodic laugh, her own cheeks warming. "Are we to believe, Your Majesty, that you were merely pondering the comfort of the palace guards, and not... other aesthetics?"
Lie Fan merely offered a perfectly innocent, warm smile, raising his hands in mock surrender, allowing them to enjoy their playful teasing.
But at the exact same time, despite the blushing and the jokes, the wives could clearly see the sheer brilliance of the concept. When they stripped away the societal taboos, it actually made perfect, undeniable sense for comfort, hygiene, and mobility. It was a massive leap forward for women's daily lives.
And so, acting swiftly and with the flawless organizational skills of imperial consorts, they took total ownership of the project. They secretly assembled many of their most trusted, highly skilled female tailors and a select group of open minded aristocratic women within the deepest, most secure chambers of the inner palace. They swore them to absolute secrecy.
Privately, away from the prying, judgmental eyes of the male court and the rigid Confucian scholars, they began designing, measuring, and developing this revolutionary new type of clothes. They experimented with different cuts of premium silk, fine lacework, and supportive stitching, birthing an invisible revolution that would soon quietly take the empire's female populace by storm.
Meanwhile, after Lie Fan's complete, flawless success with that subtle domestic maneuvering, he left the women to their secret industry. He goes to spend quality time with his growing children, an aspect of his life that grounded him in the humanity he so often had to set aside on the throne.
He walked through the private courtyards, focusing especially on guiding and playing with his eldest son and the official crown prince of the Hengyuan Dynasty, Muchen.
Muchen was growing into a sharp, observant boy, bearing the heavy, invisible weight of his future destiny on his small shoulders. Lie Fan did not just sit and watch him play, he actively engaged with him.
He sat in the grass, helping the boy build intricate wooden blocks representing city walls, using playtime as a disguised lesson in structural defense and urban planning. He taught Muchen how to hold a small, unsharpened wooden sword, gently correcting his stance, but more importantly, he spoke to him about the philosophy of power.
He taught his son that a sword was meant to protect the weak, not to oppress them, striving to nurture the future of the dynasty so that the boy would grow into a sage king, not a paranoid tyrant. It was a profound, deeply emotional afternoon, bonding the father and son in the quiet peace of the imperial gardens.
As a day peacefully passed, the brief, golden respite of domestic life came to an inevitable end.
The very next morning, the crushing machinery of the empire demanded its master's return. Lie Fan returned to his grand study, the scent of sandalwood replaced by the sharp tang of fresh ink and the crisp rustle of official reports.
He took his seat behind the massive ebony desk and almost immediately received a highly anticipated, incredibly vital logistical report.
Huang Yue Ying entered the study, her usually composed demeanor replaced by a vibrating, infectious excitement. She carried a massive, heavily annotated map, which she unrolled across the Emperor's desk with a flourish. She excitedly informed him about the absolute, staggering success of their latest infrastructure project. She pointed to the thick, dark lines drawn across the parchment, detailing how the vast network of reinforced wagonway trails has finally covered the entire northern part of the mainland.
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Name: Lie Fan
Title: Founding Emperor Of Hengyuan Dynasty
Age: 36 (203 AD)
Level: 16
Next Level: 462,000
Renown: 2325
Cultivation: Yin Yang Separation (level 11)
SP: 1,121,700
ATTRIBUTE POINTS
STR: 1,010 (+20)
VIT: 659 (+20)
AGI: 653 (+10)
INT: 691
CHR: 98
WIS: 569
WILL: 436
ATR Points: 0