Zhong Li made his way leisurely back to his quarters, his mind still lingering on the system's warning about "the first four strategists meeting their end." The mysterious death of the consort in the secluded palace left him with an uneasy feeling, as though a cold whisper were tracing his spine. He had pieced it together by now: Ying Zheng might appear composed and mild on the surface, but beneath that calm lay deep layers of caution. The fact that Zhong Li had returned unharmed the previous day was likely only because the emperor hadn't yet fully discerned his intentions.
As he mounted the steps to his door, he noticed Xia Zhi curled up in a corner. The boy was hugging his knees, a thin outer garment thrown over his shoulders, his eyelashes damp with morning dew. He was fast asleep.
"Xia Zhi, wake up. Come inside to sleep," Zhong Li said softly, giving him a gentle shake.
Xia Zhi murmured faintly, then blinked awake. Recognizing Zhong Li, he instantly became alert. "Brother Zhong! You're back! When you didn't return last night, I was afraid you'd been punished by the chief… or that something bad had happened. Are you all right?"
"No trouble," Zhong Li reassured, steadying the young man as he swayed on his feet. "The night air is cold—why sleep out here? What if you fell ill?"
"I wanted to be near the door in case you needed help," Xia Zhi explained, scratching his head somewhat abashedly. "It's just… I'm not much use to you anyway."
Zhong Li patted his head gently. "Silly boy. Go freshen up. I'll tell you about yesterday."
Xia Zhi nodded and went inside, but even while washing, he leaned out to ask, "Brother Zhong, which courtier were you serving yesterday? Was it very taxing?"
"A master in one of the smaller compounds. The work wasn't hard. I even managed to rest awhile," Zhong Li replied, making no mention of Ying Zheng's identity. Xia Zhi was tender-hearted—knowing too much about the cruel intrigues of the palace would only frighten him.
Suddenly, the door burst open. Just as Zhong Li prepared to reprimand the intruder, he saw Xia Zhi drop to his knees with a thud, pulling urgently at Zhong Li's sleeve. "Brother Zhong, kneel—quick! It's Supervisor Tan! He oversees the cleaning corps. He holds power over life and death!"
Zhong Li's heart tightened. He thought quickly—the system hadn't mentioned this Supervisor Tan. He must be a minor character, one not documented in the main story. With deliberate carelessness, Zhong Li gave a shallow bow, rising again before his knees could touch the ground.
Supervisor Tan's hand trembled with fury. "Such insolence! How dare you slight me so! If it weren't for Her Majesty's summons, I'd have you flogged to death where you stand!"
A summons from the Empress? Zhong Li's heart sank. He hadn't even begun to navigate his complicated dynamic with Ying Zheng—how had he already attracted the attention of the Empress?
"Make yourself presentable and come with me at once!" Supervisor Tan spat, then turned to leave.
As Zhong Li followed, he saw the supervisor bowing and scraping obsequiously to another man just outside—Zhao He, the same eunuch from yesterday.
"Supervisor Zhao, I hope all has been well with you?" Supervisor Tan simpered.
Zhao He cast him a sidelong glance. "Thanks to the Empress's grace, well enough."
"Yes, yes—Her Majesty is most generous," Supervisor Tan replied, even going so far as to slap his own cheek lightly.
Zhao He ignored him and, noticing Zhongli, said to Supervisor Tan, "I'll take this one from here. I'll mention that favor you asked about to Her Majesty."
Supervisor Tan beamed. "Thank you, Supervisor Zhao!"
Zhong Li followed Zhao He down corridors and across courtyards. He noted how every maid and eunuch they passed bowed respectfully to Zhao He. It reinforced his conviction: only by climbing higher himself could he ensure his survival in the palace—and protect Ying Zheng from the schemes ahead.
When they reached Fenghe Palace, Zhao He paused. "Once inside, speak only when spoken to. Keep your eyes down."
Zhong Li entered the hall with his gaze lowered. He knelt and bowed. "This humble servant Zhong Li pays respect to Her Majesty the Empress. May the Empress enjoy peace and health."
"Rise," came the voice of Empress Jiang Yan—gentle, yet unmistakably authoritative.
As Zhong Li stood, he glimpsed a young man seated to the left—dressed in a brilliant yellow robe embroidered with gold, a jade-studded belt at his waist. It was Prince Huan, Shao Hong, the Empress's son. Zhong Li immediately dropped back to his knees. "This humble servant pays respect to His Highness the Prince of Huan."
Shao Hong looked surprised, then amused. "You recognize me?"
"This servant once caught a distant glimpse of Your Highness. Your noble and remarkable presence left a lasting impression," Zhongli answered dutifully.
"Hah! This little eunuch has charm," Shao Hong laughed, clapping his hands.
Jiang Yan shook her head. "You are soon to be married, yet you still act like a child."
Married? Zhong Li's mind raced—he suddenly remembered this plot point from the book: Prince Huan's wedding banquet would include every prince aged sixteen and above, Ying Zheng among them. It would be Ying Zheng's first public appearance. And during the feast, the Second Prince would poison the wine—a single sip would steal a man's wits forever. In his past life, Ying Zheng had drunk it and spent nearly a year lost in madness.
His thoughts were interrupted as Shao Hong addressed the Empress. "Mother, this young eunuch is clever. Why not assign him to me? After the wedding, I could use a sharp and attentive servant."
Zhong Li's heart leapt into his throat. If he were assigned to Shao Hong, he would have no chance to warn Ying Zheng about the poison. He kept his head low, hands clenched silently in his sleeves, and waited for the Empress's reply.