Chapter 83: Difficult to Enter the Palace

Yan tore off a piece of sparrow meat, but had no intention of swallowing it. The imperial city was so close, and she thought she would hate Pan Yueyang deeply. Yet ever since hearing news of his death, she had forced herself to be strong—the pain in her heart was hers alone to bear.

“What will you do when we reach the imperial city?” Bai Li Mubai extinguished the fire and looked at Yan.

“First, I need to find Guan Canghai. I’ll do everything I can to help you and Zizhan leave the palace safely.” Yan glanced at the carriage, where the nurse was accompanying the sleeping Zizhan.

“You decide,” Bai Li Mubai said, rising and stepping onto the carriage.

Yan stood at the palace gates. Night had fallen, and she had stood outside for two hours, gazing at the entrance, finally overcoming the shadows in her heart and walking slowly toward the guards. “Sir, I wish to request an audience with the new emperor.”

“Go away, this is the imperial palace, not a place commoners can enter freely.” The guard stopped Yan; ever since his shift began, he had noticed this woman lingering at the gate.

Helpless, Yan produced a letter from her sleeve. “Then please deliver this to His Majesty. It is a handwritten letter from the emperor himself.”

The guard glanced at it, noting the name ‘Guan Canghai’ beneath the seal. He took the letter, still doubtful. “Even though your letter bears the emperor’s name… it doesn’t prove it was written by the new emperor.”

“You may open it and see.” Yan could have chosen a more direct method, like having Bai Li Mubai use his martial skills to enter the palace, but she preferred not to take such risks. She still didn’t know Guan Canghai’s true intentions toward her—did he really love her as he claimed? She didn’t believe it.

The guard opened the letter and skimmed it. “Miss, I’m only a guard. This letter seems to be a family matter, and I lack the authority to deliver it to the emperor. But don’t worry, you should go to Lord Li first thing tomorrow.”

“Lord Li?”

“That’s Grand Commandant Li Zuo. He can deliver your letter to the emperor.” The guard explained.

“Thank you, sir.” Yan put away the letter and left the palace slowly. The guard watched her go, recalling that the letter seemed to speak of romance at first, then mentioned a child… Could it be? He dared not imagine further and quickly dismissed the thought.

Early the next morning, Yan waited outside the Grand Commandant’s residence for Li Zuo. She gazed at the lofty gate, smiling bitterly—this had once been the General’s Mansion of Panlong Kingdom. Now it bore the sign of the Grand Commandant’s residence, and Yan knew every corner of it… Yueyang, Yan looked up at the plaque.

The main gate opened slowly. Li Zuo, dressed in his official robes and ready for court, stepped out. He never liked being accompanied by guards.

“Sir?” Yan watched Li Zuo cross the threshold. Judging by his attire, he was surely the Grand Commandant. Yan called out softly.

“You’re calling me?” The light was still dim. Li Zuo looked at the woman before him—she seemed like a fairy from a painting. Yan had changed into a white dress that set off her pure beauty. Her natural loveliness required no cosmetics; in the faint light, she resembled a celestial being newly fallen to earth. Her white dress was shrouded in a gentle haze.

“Do you have business, miss?” Li Zuo asked politely, only to see Yan kneel with a thud.

“Lord Li, this is a family letter. Forgive my boldness, but please, could you kindly deliver it to the emperor for me?” Yan held the letter high with both hands.

Li Zuo took the letter and helped Yan to her feet. Without much thought, he opened the letter and glanced through it—it was indeed Canghai’s handwriting. His mind spun quickly; so this was the reason for Canghai’s sudden departure? The letter mentioned a child—could it be…

“Sir?” Yan looked at Li Zuo’s thoughtful face, unsure if she had entrusted the right person.

“I understand. Where are you staying, miss?” Li Zuo pocketed the letter.

“At the Yuet Lai Inn.” Yan smiled awkwardly.

Li Zuo nodded and left without hesitation. Yan watched his departing figure, making her own plans. If the letter reached Guan Canghai, all would be well; if not, she would have to ask Bai Li Mubai to take the risk of entering the palace.

Guan Canghai was already up. Palace maids had tended to him, but he was still angry. Yan had disappeared—if the empire were more stable, he would have left the palace to find her himself. He had sent people to fetch them, only to discover in Yuecheng that they had vanished without a trace. All his good intentions wasted, she had heartlessly left with that young fellow.

Yesterday, memorials had arrived. Many officials, eager to curry favor, suggested expanding the harem. It wasn’t something he ought to consider now, but it seemed he needed to arrange his private life anew.

As he pondered, Guan Canghai strode briskly to the dragon throne and sat.

“I have an announcement. Yesterday, several senior ministers suggested expanding the harem, and I agreed.” Guan Canghai looked at the officials on the court; excitement was written on every face, no doubt their families had prepared their daughters for palace life.

“Also, Li Zuo, proclaim to the world: there shall be no more Panlong or Tianfeng. Our nation shall henceforth be called Haokun.” Guan Canghai announced the change of the nation’s name—a major event that had been delayed by the rebuilding of cities, moving the capital, and securing the borders.

“Your servant obeys.” Li Zuo touched the letter hidden in his sleeve, saying nothing.

After court, Li Zuo stayed behind. He entered Guan Canghai’s study, as was his daily custom, to discuss matters of state. The door opened, and Guan Canghai, robed in yellow, walked in.

“Here.” Li Zuo produced the letter and placed it on the tea table.

Guan Canghai watched his gesture. He wasn’t angry—Li Zuo was always like this, strictly adhering to protocol in court but informal in private. The letter’s envelope looked very familiar.

Guan Canghai quickly opened it and glanced through. “She’s here?” He was surprised—he’d been angry that morning at her disappearance.

“She likely arrived earlier, but couldn’t enter the palace. Somehow she learned of me and came to my home at dawn to deliver the letter herself.” Li Zuo watched Guan Canghai’s expression.

Guan Canghai was delighted. “Hahaha, excellent, excellent.”

“But you just announced this morning that you would expand the harem.” Li Zuo waited to block Guan Canghai’s path.

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“Why should I have?” Li Zuo sipped his tea leisurely.

“No matter, no matter. Where is she now?” Guan Canghai’s feelings for Yan were clear, but he valued even more the presence of Bai Li Mubai at her side. “Did you see that young man with her?”

“What young man? No, I only saw her, but… she truly is beautiful.” Li Zuo recalled the early morning in a daze.

“Don’t get any ideas. That woman is mine.” It was precisely Yan’s beauty that made him disregard her lack of virtue.

“Heh, most women entering the palace now come from prominent families. This woman has neither status nor rank—how will she enter?” Li Zuo could tell Guan Canghai was determined to bring her into the palace, but it wouldn’t be easy.

“If I want her to enter the palace, no one will dare stop me.” Guan Canghai replied confidently.

“The world has just been unified. If the emperor acts solely for his own desires, the realm may fall into turmoil again. If you don’t want Haokun to change its name within a year, caution is wise.” Li Zuo poured cold water on his enthusiasm.

His words were not without reason. This was no longer Tianfeng nor Panlong, but Haokun, formed from the unification of the two strongest states. If anyone coveted the throne… with the people’s hearts unsettled, caution was indeed necessary.

“What do you suggest?” Guan Canghai sat beside Li Zuo.

“There’s no solution,” Li Zuo said with a smile. “My sister has always admired you. Since you’re determined to expand the harem, why not include Yi He?”

“Yi He? She’s not suitable.” Guan Canghai had always regarded Yi He as a sister, given his close bond with Li Zuo.

“In current circumstances,” Li Zuo pressed on, “Yi He has always wished to be with you; you know this well. Now is the perfect time for her to enter the palace. Treat her kindly. She’s a naïve girl, as both you and I know. In the harem’s intrigues, you must protect her.”

“No, I refuse.” Guan Canghai insisted.

“Don’t be so absolute. All the ministers will send their daughters to the palace—shouldn’t I, Li Zuo, do so as well? I’ll send not one, but two sisters. In the future, your two favorite consorts will both be my sisters. My status will soar!” Li Zuo laughed, imagining his future triumph, his ridiculous manner making Guan Canghai suddenly realize something.

Guan Canghai slapped the table. “An excellent idea!” He caught Li Zuo’s hint and no longer opposed Yi He entering the palace.

“But… that woman is truly a beauty. It’s a shame for her to spend her days among the harem’s jealous intrigues.” Li Zuo couldn’t help but feel pity.

“I care about women, but even more about the man at her side.” Guan Canghai looked profoundly toward the hall.

“You mean Pan Yueyang’s disciple? Is he really with her?” Li Zuo suddenly realized.

Guan Canghai nodded emphatically. “It depends how he’s used. He won’t pledge loyalty to anyone, but he’ll follow Yan without question.”

Li Zuo grew eager to meet this character whom Guan Canghai always regarded with caution. “His martial skills surpass ours?”

“A genius in martial arts,” Guan Canghai replied, picking up his tea.

“Win him over.” Li Zuo loved recruiting talent; it was his favorite challenge. “By the way, what’s the woman’s name?”

“Yan.” Guan Canghai thought the name too hastily chosen, perhaps her parents named her out of longing.

“From now on, she’ll bear the surname Li!”