Married to the Demon King, she took the throne via infrastructure.

T/N:

Heikou (Black Dragon Pass)

Heicheng (Black Dragon City)

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The soldier led the messenger away from the Imperial Censorate. The messenger's head was still spinning as he asked in a daze:

"What's this 'heating' thing? And when you say 'two meals a day,' do you mean what I think you mean?"

The soldier puffed out his chest and explained, "Heating means your house will be warm, and your bed will stay warm all night. I'm not sure about the specifics—it's something the city's construction team came up with, invented by Her Majesty the Queen."

"Two meals a day means exactly that—two meals. What's so hard to understand? You saw those bustling buildings on the way here, right? Those are the city's canteens. Want to join me for a meal?"

The messenger quickly waved his hands. "No, no, I need to get the people settled first, and I have to report back."

Of course, he was barely holding himself back from following the soldier to the so-called canteen. Food was food, and he'd likely get a meal when he returned. But the city was low on grain, so having anything to eat was a blessing.

The soldier glanced at him. "Wait here for a moment."

With that, he headed straight to the canteen. The messenger could understand—it was mealtime, after all, and rushing to get food was normal.

But the soldier returned quickly, in less than the time it took to drink half a cup of tea.

In his hands were two white, fluffy things. The messenger rubbed his eyes. Could those be... steamed buns?

The names of demon race foods were identical to those of humans, a naming convention borrowed from the Xuanwu clan, who were skilled in trade and commerce. To facilitate trade with humans, they adopted human names for their foods. However, despite the shared names, demon race foods were entirely different from human foods. Demons found human food tasteless and unsatisfying.

Steamed buns were a luxury only the wealthy Xuanwu clan could afford. Though the Winged Tiger clan could grow crops, their harvests were traded for other goods. The Winged Tiger clan ranked second in combat strength, but their only industries were depleted magic crystals and farming. Steamed buns were a luxury reserved for festivals, and only the strong could eat them.

As the soldier approached, the messenger finally saw that they weren't steamed buns and breathed a sigh of relief.

If they had been steamed buns, given his status, he would have had to take them back to the city lord.

The soldier handed him one. "Eat this first. Once mealtime's over, you'll have to wait until evening for the next meal."

What?! 

There's more in the evening?! 

Did the King give all the grain to Black Dragon City?!

He quickly calmed himself. The King's decisions were not to be questioned.

The food in his hand was warm and gave off a faint aroma. His stomach, long empty, growled, and he couldn't bear to give it back to the soldier.

The soldier had already started eating.

The messenger swallowed his saliva, licked the soft outer layer, and found it tender and fluffy.

With the first bite, tears streamed down his face. It was sweet. He had only tasted sweetness once as a child, and the memory had stayed with him.

The soldier finished his portion in a few bites, wiped his hands on his clothes, and was about to call the messenger back when he saw the messenger crying while stuffing his face with the sweet taro.

The soldier's mood was complicated. He thought for a moment, then patted the messenger's shoulder reassuringly.

The city guards had reacted the same way when they first tasted the sweet taro. After the first bite, they hugged each other and cried, wondering if it was their last meal. Why else would they be given sweet food?

Sweetness symbolized rarity and luxury. Even the royal palace didn't have desserts, so how could they be given sweet food?

They cried as they ate, wiped their tears, and returned to their posts, determined to protect Black Dragon City even if it was their last meal.

Of course, it turned out to be a bittersweet moment. Eventually, they grew tired of the sweetness, and the canteen began offering more varied flavors.

The royal palace had announced that after spring, residents would be allocated farmland, and everyone would grow their grain, storing it at home.

The soldier had specifically asked for sweet food because he knew it was the messenger's first time here.

The journey continued in silence. After finishing the sweet taro, the messenger's tear-streaked face had frozen into icicles, which he calmly plucked off.

The soldier knew the messenger was deep in thought and silently led him to the door. "Brother, we have this food at every meal. You'll get more tonight. I reacted the same way when I first had it. There's no shame in a man crying."

The messenger whispered, "Thank you." Another group of soldiers arrived to take over, and the soldier went off for his break.

A tall soldier took the messenger to settle the elderly, women, and children from Black Dragon Pass.

The city lord had ordered him to personally oversee their settlement before leaving. If anything happened during the harsh winter, these vulnerable people were Black Dragon Pass's hope.

They were temporarily housed in two canteens outside the city. The canteens were warm, and most of the people were asleep. In Black Dragon Pass, they hadn't dared to sleep, taking turns to rest. If something seemed off, they'd wake each other up immediately, resorting to physical force if necessary.

If someone didn't wake up, it was a tragedy.

As soon as the messenger entered, he was enveloped in warmth and immediately felt the urge to sleep.

The soldier woke everyone up. "By order of Her Majesty the Queen, you'll eat first, then choose your accommodations. There are rooms for four, six, or eight people. You'll sort it out among yourselves. Someone will come later to teach you how to use the facilities. For now, let's eat."

Everyone exchanged glances. They hadn't expected Black Dragon City to provide food.

Though they were sister cities, both were equally poor. Coming here with their families to seek shelter during the harsh winter was already a big ask. How could they accept food as well?

The children, mouths watering, bit their fingers, while the women and elders had more complicated thoughts, but they all agreed: they couldn't accept the food.

Yet, despite their refusals, the food was served.

The canteen cook was a low-ranking demon. Her skin was dark, her body thin, and her ears long and pointed like an elf's. Her pupils were orange and slit-like.

If Yin Jixue had seen her, she would've whistled—this was practically a black cat personified from a manga. With proper nutrition and development, she'd be an exotic beauty.

Lena, the cook, had her helpers carry two baskets of food to the table. Her tone was cold and emotionless:

"There's plenty for everyone. Take one each, no fighting. Don't choke. Line up and come get it."

A middle-aged demon woman forced herself not to look at the food in the baskets, even though her last meal had been days ago:

"Miss, we don't need food. Black Dragon City sheltering us is enough. There's no need to waste grain on us."

An elderly demon woman chimed in: "We won't cause any trouble. Please take the food back."

Lena's cold expression softened. "This is Her Majesty the Queen's order. Line up and take your share. Everyone must eat before they can go find housing."

Her words sounded like a threat—no one could leave the canteen without eating. The children quickly lined up.

The women and elders exchanged helpless glances but joined the line.

There was even some food left over.

"Why aren't you taking any?" Lena asked the messenger.

The messenger backed away to the door, afraid Lena would throw the food at him. "I... I'm a man. This food is for them, and I've already eaten."