The Empress's No.1 Lackey-Chapter 329 - 280, Empress Summoning

Li Mansion.

Compared to the bustling and noisy arena, the Prime Minister's Mansion, located in the northern part of the city where the elite "residential district" is situated, was composed and quiet.

Because the Prime Minister was advanced in years, he preferred peace and quiet.

The servants in the mansion moved, sat, and lay down with the utmost effort to tread lightly.

Today, since there was no court session and various officials from the government office went to watch the martial arts competition, Li Yanfu also did not go to the office.

"Squeak squeak." Outside the mansion gates, before the carriage driver could fully stop, a well-built, high-nosed "Young Master," over forty, vaulted out of the vehicle and hurriedly dashed through the gate.

Circling around the screen, amidst the salutations from the servants along the way, he arrived outside the study.

Li Yinglong took a deep breath, lightened his footsteps, and after straightening his attire, he knocked on the red-painted door.

"Father, your son has returned."

Li Yinglong stepped over the threshold, bowing towards Li Yanfu who was sitting behind a large desk, perusing a letter.

Today, Li Yanfu was wearing loose everyday clothes, his feet bare upon the soft carpet gifted from the Western Regions.

His back slightly hunched, he slowly raised his head, a fierce old man with ash-grey sideburns, nodding his head in satisfaction:

"How did the martial contest go? Did the Divine Dragon Temple win?"

Li Yinglong shook his head.

"Then, was it the Heavenly Master Mansion that had the upper hand?" The influential Prime Minister of Great Yu expressed slight surprise.

Li Yinglong shook his head again, and in the questioning gaze of his father, his tone was deflated, almost grinding his teeth:

"It was Zhao Douan who won!"

After that, the Young Master narrated the details of the contest thoroughly.

The study fell into a moment of silence.

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Li Yanfu was taken aback for a moment, his aged eyes first showing surprise, then deep thought, and eventually, he slowly nodded:

"I understand. You may leave."

Li Yinglong was stunned, his tone urgent, as he made to step forward:

"Father, that Zhao, his power is growing, if we don't deal with him, he will become a major threat..."

"I told you to leave."

"...Yes."

Li Yinglong's expression was twisted, he stomped his feet, let out a heavy sigh, and turned to leave.

After his son had left, Li Yanfu slowly stood up, his veiny feet, the nails greyish, pacing to a corner inside the room.

Besides the brazier that had been brought in early due to the cold, rainy weather for warming.

Li Yanfu clutched the "rescue letter" that had been sent from outside the Capital not long ago, and casually tossed it.

Together with its envelope, the letter, "pap," fell into the brazier, quickly devoured by a surge of flame, burning and twisting, with words like "Taicang," "silver," "Prime Minister"... faintly visible amidst the fire.

In the study, a feeble sigh could be heard faintly:

"An eventful autumn..."

Imperial Prison, Jiazi Cell Block.

"What's all the racket?"

A prison guard, holding his sabre, followed the banging noise, arrived outside a cell, and bellowed angrily.

Inside the cell, Chai Keqiao sat cross-legged on the cold floor, his hands and feet bound by chains.

He wasn't wearing the usual prisoner attire; he still donned his tattered hemp clothes and straw shoes. His wheat-colored skin had paled a bit, his eyes smiling as he put down the hand that was banging on the door, saying:

"I've decided to leave."

A seasoned prison guard who had seen countless dignitaries over twenty years of service, "Yo-heave-ho," scoffed:

"You were reluctant to leave when we urged you to go, and now you've changed your mind? Not afraid of being ambushed when you step outside?"

With a slightly sheepish smile, Chai Keqiao replied:

"I just heard the bell signaling the end of the martial arts competition, so it's time for me to go as well."

The guard didn't say anything, unlocked the cell, and pulled Chai Keqiao out, muttering as he did so:

"Be good once you're out. If you dare to mess with anyone from the government office again... especially Master Zhao, you won't be treated this well next time."

"I know, I know."

Chai Keqiao's tone was humble, his face bearing a smile, nowhere near the defiance of challenging the court's expert, more like a down-and-out young master.

In a moment.

Once Chai Keqiao had completed the "procedures" and retrieved his ax, he was about to leave the door.

Just then, a Jinyi (guard) came over, talking about the big event at the martial arts competition with colleagues inside the prison.

The Jinyi was quite excited, gesticulating vividly, and upon finishing, he turned around and suddenly saw behind him a figure who had appeared out of nowhere.

"You're saying, Zhao Douan borrowed the Taia Sword and defeated Tianhai?" Chai Keqiao's gaze was blazing.

"Yes..."

A moment of silence.

As if digesting this unbelievable news.

After a short while, Chai Keqiao's face fell, utterly disappointed, dejectedly walking out, shaking his head:

"Such a loss, a huge loss..."

At the same time.

As the crowd that witnessed the fight dispersed, they left.

The events of the martial contest also swiftly rose to become the hot topic in the Capital, becoming the subject of lively discussions in the streets, taverns, and teahouses.

"Zhao Douan? The one known as 'Yama Zhao' in the legends? He's a Tributor in the Imperial City? Aren't Tributors eunuchs? Could it be..."

"Ptui, would the Saint choose someone without... Eh, truly envious, with the Saint's support, it's a breeze to become renowned throughout the land."

"Heh, does Mr. Zhao care about fame? He might even wish to be less known."

"Who said earlier that Yama Zhao only relies on his influence? A Divine Chapter Martial Artist, oh, that's something, even more formidable than the little monks of the Divine Dragon Temple and the disciples of Heavenly Master Zhang..."

"Not so, Yama Zhao is strong, indeed, but still far behind both houses. He won, but let me tell you why..."

People were abuzz with discussion.

Before now, Yama Zhao's reputation had mostly been limited to the vicinity of the Capital.

But this time, it was going to spread throughout the Nine Roads and Eighteen Prefectures through the mouths of the Jianghu people.

As for his ability to wield the Taia Sword, it didn't raise much suspicion and was subconsciously chalked up to "the Empress's arrangement."

"Has Zhao Duan already reached the Divine Chapter Realm..."

Inside a tavern, Wu Ling, a disguised and dressed-up actor, was momentarily lost in thought, gripping and then releasing his fist.

A few months ago, the other party was just an inferior mortal; now he had already made his mark...

"Grandmaster Zhuang was foolish, why didn't he finish him off when he had the chance..."

Wu Ling regretted it in his heart for the umpteenth time.

Suddenly, a middle-aged man entered the tavern and sat down expertly at the table behind him, back to back with Wu Ling.

They began the routine message passing within the Kuangfu Society, and at the end, Wu Ling couldn't help but bring up Zhao Duan's matter.

The middle-aged man fell silent for a moment before saying,

"I've sent word of the duel at top speed back to the headquarters, and I believe Grandmaster Zhuang will make a decision."

Just like you said when you sent back the news of Mr. Wang's downfall from the Privy Council... Wu Ling thought cynically.

In less than half a year, rather than losing the people's support, the Fake Emperor's grip on the throne seemed to be getting more secure.

Wu Ling bade farewell to his contact and walked out of the tavern silently.

On his way back to the Eight Directions Opera House, when he passed near the Divine Dragon Temple, he suddenly saw a troop of armored imperial guards marching mightily towards the temple.

The leader was none other than the female chancellor of the court, Mo Zhaorong.

Wu Ling was taken aback and had a vague idea of the reasons.

Suddenly, he felt the path of mixing with these societies seemed to have a bleak future.

...

On the other side.

The Imperial Court of Supervision.

Yuann Li returned to the government office by carriage and before he had time to get comfortable, an Imperial Censor came in a rush to see him:

"Mr. Yuan, the office has received an accusatory letter of great importance; please review it."

An accusatory letter?

Yuann Li raised an eyebrow and did not delay; he knew well that a letter reaching him must be significant.

The envelope had already been opened, and Yuan Qingyi pulled out the letter, his gaze sharpening:

"The Taicang Silver Mine..."

Moments later, Yuan Qingyi's face became serious, suppressing the urge to immediately enter the Imperial Palace.

At this time, Your Majesty was sure to be meeting with Zhao Duan.

The matter in his hands was not urgent.

"Wait a bit longer..."

...

...

In the Imperial Palace, inside a certain room.

"Splash!"

Zhao Duan pulled his evenly muscled arms out of the bathing tub and slapped them on the wet wooden edge.

He sat in the medicinal soup relaxedly, feeling the sting of the wound on his chest and the itchy sensation of the flesh slowly knitting back together, and couldn't help but let out a contented hum.

"Ah—refreshing—"

The doors and windows of the room were tightly closed, and the furniture was simple; there was only the large bathing tub occupying space, concealed by a screen with his removed clothes hanging above.

After the duel, Zhao Duan was immediately brought into the palace.

He thought the Empress would summon him right away, but it didn't happen. Instead, a royal physician rushed over to examine his injury.

And prescribed a heap of precious medicines, to be consumed internally and externally, for treatment.

It was such an imposing array that Zhao Duan thought for a moment that he was dying...

But in reality, the wounds from the duel, due to "Buddha Light" breaking his defense, weren't that severe.

He figured he'd recover in about a week.

What really left him unstable and listless was the draining of his Qi.

However, after absorbing the medicinal strength through meditation, his depleted Qi Sea had been replenished. Although he still felt a bit weak, he was no longer in serious condition.

At this moment, he fell into contemplation:

"Phew, showing off is fun for a moment, but what follows is a furnace of fire... I'd better think about how to deal with the upcoming troubles."

"Yeah, although I'm exhausted, this experience has helped me sense that my previously somewhat unsettled state of mind has now solidified... it confirms I made the right bet. A true face-to-face battle without any dodging, just plunging headfirst, aligns with the Martial Artist's mindset...

Nevertheless, if I can avoid it, I should try not to personally take action in the future... It's unnecessary to endure hardships without cause."

"Following this incident, my fame will surely grow. In the eyes of both the rebels of the Kuangfu Society and 'Li Party' political rivals in the court, the desire to kill me will intensify, but it doesn't matter. Whether I'm strong or not, enemies will not spare me..."

Embrace the mentality of a dead pig not fearing boiling water.

"The attitude of the Divine Dragon Temple is interesting... abnormal, and at that time, Bian Ji was clearly at odds with that old baldy... Tsk, does it involve the internal power struggle within the Buddhist sect? I wonder how the court will handle it...

The rebels and the Eight Princes would surely hope for a conflict, to exacerbate the discord and reap the benefits of the fishermen...

Well, but with Mr. Yuan there, he should foresee this... Pah, at a time like this, I'm still thinking for the court; I should worry about myself first!"

Zhao Duan sighed and looked over at the Taia Sword, which lay unmoving beside the screen, and he felt a headache coming on.

"How should I explain my control over this thing?"

Obviously, it wouldn't be easy to bluff this time; he would have to reveal some secrets in exchange for Zhenbao's trust.

However, it was both a risk and an opportunity.

If he could seize it, perhaps he could further advance the relationship between sovereign and subject.

With all these messy thoughts swirling, a knock came from the door, followed by the voice of a palace maid:

"Mr. Zhao, Your Majesty requests your presence."

The unavoidable, finally arrived...

Zhao Duan sighed, stepping out of the bath:

"Coming."