Winning the male lead

Having been neglected during his childhood, no one paid attention to him. As he grew older, Lin Le Tian appeared in his life, pampering him, protecting him, and doing everything he could to satisfy all his demands.

Han Qi showed no mercy, and while Yang Qianyi tried to coax Zong Yan with Lin Le Tian’s help, Han Qi simply used force to suppress him.

As soon as Zong Yan started causing trouble, he would easily lift him onto his shoulder with one hand. The palace staff all knew that he had been brought by Lin Le Tian, who was the true master of the palace. When Zong Yan cried out, the servants all lowered their heads and pretended to be deaf.

After three rounds of this, Zong Yan finally settled down. For the first time since his ascension, he understood what it meant to be helpless, as if “calling out to the sky brought no answer, and calling out to the earth yielded no response.”

“I don’t want to do horse stance anymore,” he said, his fair and delicate face puffing up with two little lumps on the sides, his small fists neatly placed at his sides, his face full of grievance as he squatted, tears stubbornly shining in his eyes.

Han Qi, cold and indifferent, said, “Your Majesty, this is basic training.”

Zong Yan sniffled and turned to the worried Zhu Chuchu, saying, “Zhu Chuchu, go get Little Lin for me.”

Han Qi interrupted, “No need, he is resting.”

Zong Yan was furious but still didn’t dare to move recklessly. With a sulky face, he continued to squat in the horse stance, cursing, “Rebellious minister! I’ll kill you!”

Han Qi remained unmoved, lightly tapping his shoulder, “Lift your shoulders.”

Zong Yan, choking back tears, complained, “I can’t lift them!”

Han Qi, resolute and unsympathetic, was determined to train Zong Yan’s body, stripping him of the delicate mannerisms of royalty. He helped him lift his shoulders.

Although Zong Yan was just a child, the royal blood in him ran deep. He trembled in the stance, refusing to shed a tear, glaring fiercely at Han Qi, gritting his teeth, silently plotting how he would make him suffer.

Seeing this, Han Qi was satisfied. “A good bloodline for the Zong family.”

After what felt like an incense stick burning down, he gently said to Zong Yan, “Your Majesty, please take a rest and move your arms and legs.”

Zhu Chuchu hurried over to help him, who was reluctant to lean on her but couldn’t stand on his own. He leaned against her shoulder, glaring at Han Qi with gritted teeth, “I’m going to kill you.”

Han Qi felt a strange sensation in his heart—not because Zong Yan threatened to kill him, but because, despite being the Emperor, he couldn’t even handle a member of the Jinyiwei, and didn’t even realize it. In fact, even the eunuchs and palace maids knew that life and death were all decided by Lin Le Tian.

Thinking of this, he knelt down on one knee and respectfully said, “This subject only wishes for Your Majesty to become strong. Please forgive me.”

When he softened, Zong Yan’s expression improved significantly. Although he was childish, the worst thing he had ever done was chase palace maids and eunuchs around, scolding and telling them to get lost. On further thought, he had never actually ordered anyone’s death. The palace eunuchs and maids weren’t really afraid of him.

Han Qi, tall and handsome, looked like a real man. To have such a man beg for mercy from him made Zong Yan’s chest feel lighter, but his eyes still couldn’t hold back the tears. They flowed down his face, and he said, “You wishful thinker, I won’t forgive you.” Despite the harsh words, his voice quivered, sounding more like a child than a ruler.

Moreover, he had forgotten to call himself the Emperor.

Han Qi, still kneeling, looked up at him. His tall, imposing figure, even while kneeling, seemed like a steady mountain to the small Zong Yan. “Your Majesty, don’t cry.”

Zong Yan had never heard such words before. It wasn’t just gentleness, but a deep sense of sympathy, and a faint encouragement. He noticed that Han Qi’s eyes were also slightly red. He hastily wiped his tears with his sleeve and stubbornly said, “I’m not crying, I’m sweating.”

Han Qi smiled faintly, “I must have misjudged.”

Han Qi obediently replied, “Your Majesty, have you rested well? It’s time to begin the next step.”

Lin Le Tian, after applying the medicine, felt like he had lost half his life. Zong Yan, after attending his lessons, felt similarly exhausted. That night, neither of them demanded to see Lin Le Tian. Starving, Zong Yan wolfed down a meal. Overcome by exhaustion, he collapsed onto the dragon bed and immediately began snoring. Zhu Chuchu, worried that he might overeat and suffer from indigestion, sat by the bed, rubbing his belly while softly asking Han Qi, who was standing nearby, “Lord, how is the eunuch?”

Han Qi, initially intending to say “he won’t die,” held back and replied, “He is doing alright.”

Zhu Chuchu lowered her head, gazing at Zong Yan’s gently twitching nostrils, and whispered, “he has worried so much for Your Majesty, even finding two esteemed officials for you. I hope Your Majesty understands his efforts.”

Han Qi paused, as though it was only now that he was beginning to think about Lin Le Tian’s intentions.

Indeed, why had he invited Yang Qianyi and himself to teach Zong Yan?

It was rumored that at first, he had invited E Tai. Han Qi, having retired from the military, knew well of E Tai’s reputation and abilities. He was a fierce and skilled general, unmatched in his tactics. When Yang Qianyi was teaching Zong Yan, Han Qi had been present, listening carefully. The lessons were focused on proper governance—training for a legitimate ruler.

This wasn’t a method to train a puppet monarch. His thoughts became muddled as he silently withdrew. Night had fallen, and it was time for him to go change Lin Le Tian’s medicine.

His mind heavy with thoughts, he nearly missed when Zhang Yuanpan called out to him.

“Lord Han, leaving the palace?” He greeted him with a smile.

Han Qi cupped his hands, “Going to change the eunuch’s medicine.”

Zhang Yuanpan waved his hand, “No need, Your Majesty’s medicine has already been changed.”

“Changed already?” He was surprised, and a faint feeling of betrayal surged in his chest.

Zhang Yuanpan nodded, stroking his handlebar mustache, “he said not to disturb Lord Han while teaching His Majesty, so he had someone else do it.”

“Someone else…” Han Qi repeated, chewing on the words, feeling an inexplicable displeasure rising in his heart.

Zhang Yuanpan, completely unaware of the turmoil inside the stoic and cold-faced Jinyiwei, comforted him by patting his shoulder, “Don’t worry, you’ve been healing him. With his good nature, he’ll never hold this against you. Go ahead and leave the palace.”

In less than the time it takes to brew a cup of tea, Han Qi received two praises for Lin Le Tian—from both Zhu Chuchu and Zhang Yuanpan. His face stiffened as he didn’t know how to respond.

Fortunately, Zhang Yuanpan merely exchanged a brief greeting before leaving.

The long, quiet palace road was serene. The palace lanterns cast long shadows, and he stood still, lost in thought. The things he should understand, and the things he shouldn’t, all became a tangled mess in his mind. So he decided to stop thinking about it altogether.

He had returned to the capital for one reason only—to kill Lin Le Tian, and that would never change.