Did the Emperor Dock My Pay Today?

What’s a transmigrated emperor’s reluctant wage slave to do? These days, conning and swindling pay better than being the Imperial Preceptor. This is how the story begins: Emperor: Imperial Preceptor, rub my back. Some woman: I’ll rub your grandpa’s back. Emperor: Then what about your salary... Some woman: Father, please sit down. I’ll do it. This is how the story ends: Emperor: Didn’t the Imperial Preceptor say she only loved money, not good looks? Some woman: Nonsense. I only love your good looks. I’m terrible at writing blurbs, but this is a silly yet tragic story. There’s a little violence, a little “civility,” and a little warmth. No formulaic tropes and no face-slapping scumbags or scheming women.