Winning the male lead

Le Tian never touched the medicine. He knew he wouldn’t die and couldn’t be bothered to drink it. He simply felt exhausted. His body was undeniably weak, and he lacked the stamina to resist. Lying in bed, he slowly drifted into sleep, too lazy even to wipe the blood stains at the corner of his lips. His heavy lashes gradually closed.

Half-asleep, he vaguely heard Han Qi murmuring beside his ear. The usually quiet man was now uncharacteristically talkative, causing Le Tian’s brows to furrow tighter and tighter. Brother, stop talking. Let me sleep for a while, he thought irritably.

“…Still not willing to talk?”

That was the only sentence he heard clearly before he felt a gentle hand lifting him up. His lips warmed as Han Qi finally fed him the medicine. Overcome with drowsiness, he kept his eyes closed and simply played along like a lifeless puppet.

Seeing him so passive, Han Qi wiped the medicine off the corner of his lips with his thumb and said emotionlessly, “You’re much more obedient when you’re asleep.”

The eunuch had disappeared.

The first to notice was Zhu Chuchu. Though Lin Le Tian was outside the palace and unwilling to meet with Zong Yan, he would still send small trinkets to him from time to time. It had been more than half a month since the last gift—a delicate jade fan—but no new messages had come. Growing suspicious, Zhu Chuchu brought it up with Zong Yan, who was currently overwhelmed with state affairs.

Zong Yan had now fully taken on the responsibilities of ruling. He barely slept three hours a night, dedicating himself entirely to governance. Only after Zhu Chuchu’s reminder did he realize something was amiss. He immediately summoned Han Qi.

Han Qi arrived unhurriedly. Just as he was about to bow, Zong Yan grabbed his arm anxiously. “Han Qi, have you seen little Lin recently?”

Han Qi remained unshaken, replying calmly, “This minister has been occupied with investigating the private salt trade.”

Zong Yan grew impatient, his jade crown shaking as he jumped in frustration, the golden tassels clinking loudly. “he is missing! Go find him! Mobilize the entire Eastern Depot! I don’t care if you have to turn the entire capital upside down—bring him back to me!” His face flushed with urgency and fury.

Zhu Chuchu, who hadn’t seen him this agitated in a long time, quickly stepped forward to comfort him in a soft voice.

But before she could say much, Zong Yan suddenly erupted, kicking over the imperial desk in front of him. Official documents cascaded to the floor like falling water. The palace attendants, terrified, immediately knelt and pleaded, “Your Majesty, please quell your anger.”

“You all keep making me review this memorial and that petition, but you’ve managed to lose the one person who actually matters!” Zong Yan turned, his chest heaving with suppressed rage. The beast he had carefully tamed over the past half-year had broken free once again. His bloodshot eyes locked onto Han Qi as he snarled, “If you don’t find little Lin, the entire Eastern Depot might as well die!”

Han Qi remained composed, lowering his gaze. “This minister accepts the decree.”

Back at the Eastern Depot, Han Qi wasted no time issuing an order for a full-scale search of the capital. All Jinyiwei Guards were to drop their current assignments and conduct door-to-door searches.

The guards, armed and ready, split into groups and rode out with an intimidating presence.

Lin Rusi, having fallen from grace after a drunken altercation with Han Qi, had been demoted to an ordinary squad leader. Now part of a four-man search team, he was assigned to the eastern district.

Ordinary citizens were terrified of the sight of Jinyiwei Guards at their doorsteps. They didn’t dare speak, let alone make eye contact. Impatient, Lin Rusi used the scabbard of his blade to pry open a bedroom cabinet, muttering, “If you ask me, isn’t the biggest suspect in the eunuch’s disappearance that brat Han Qi?”

“Are you crazy?” A teammate glared at him. “Han Qi’s status is far above ours. You think you can just throw around accusations? If you want to die, don’t drag us down with you.”

Lin Rusi fell silent, irritated but unwilling to argue further. His movements became even rougher as he continued his search.

But his suspicion wasn’t just fueled by his personal dislike of Han Qi. He clearly remembered that half a month ago, two squads of Jinyiwei Guards had clashed. After detaining the troublemakers, Han Qi had gone straight to find Lin Le Tian.

Whether or not he had actually found him, Lin Rusi didn’t know. But if Lin Le Tian was truly dead, the one who stood to gain the most was undoubtedly Han Qi.

Lin Rusi wasn’t the only one who suspected Han Qi.

Physician Zhang had similar doubts.

Zong Yan had been unable to sleep for days due to his concern over Lin Le Tian’s disappearance. As a result, he had developed severe headaches. When Zhang was called to check his pulse, he overheard Zhu Chuchu comforting him and was stunned. “Just recently, Lord Han took a century-old ginseng root from the Imperial Pharmacy for his grace, and now he’s gone?” He hadn’t realized it himself, but his words subtly cast suspicion on Han Qi.

Zhu Chuchu immediately picked up on his implication. Her fingers, which had been gently massaging Zong Yan’s temples, suddenly paused. She turned her sharp gaze to Zhang. “Physician Zhang, are you suggesting…?”

She spoke cautiously, but Zong Yan had already caught on. His expression darkened as he abruptly sat up, knocking over a cup of hot tea in his anger. “Han Qi, bring him here! I want to interrogate him myself!”

Coincidentally, Han Qi was already in the palace. Within moments, he appeared at the Zichen Hall.

Zong Yan dismissed everyone else and sat on his throne, looking down at him with an icy gaze. “Han Qi, it’s just you and me here. Answer me honestly…” He originally wanted to ask Did you kill little Lin? but couldn’t bring himself to say it so bluntly. Instead, he rephrased it, “Do you hate little Lin?”

If someone had asked Han Qi this question in the past, he wasn’t sure he could have concealed his emotions. But he had spent too much time thinking about it recently. Now, as he met Zong Yan’s fierce, leopard-like stare, he replied evenly, “I do not hate him.”

Zong Yan held his gaze for a long time. His expression gradually softened, the anger fading to reveal something closer to helplessness. Lowering his head, he murmured, “Han Qi, do you know? I was nothing before. If not for him protecting and supporting me, I never would have reached this throne. No one truly loves me… except for him… only him…” His voice grew hoarse, his words nearly breaking into sobs. “And now I’ve lost him.”

It turned out Zong Yan wasn’t as clueless as people assumed. He had always seen things clearly.

Han Qi remained as stone-faced as ever. After a long silence, he finally said, “Your Majesty need not worry. I will do everything in my power.” However, he deliberately left it ambiguous—he didn’t specify what he would do.

Zong Yan was quiet for a moment before muttering, “Get rid of the useless people in the Jinyiwei Guards.”

Han Qi bowed slightly. “As you command.”

He glanced down at him but said nothing, striding away with large steps.

Zhu Chuchu watched his departing figure, feeling a vague sense of unease.

Han Qi left the Zichen Palace and returned the way he came, heading towards Guanju Palace.

Guanju Palace had once belonged to his mother. Now that the emperor was still young, the harem remained empty, with only two lazy palace servants sweeping around carelessly. He quietly climbed over the back wall and swiftly entered the hall without any pause. He was afraid that if he arrived too late, the little cat locked in the secret chamber would go hungry.

They say the darkest place is under the lamp—Lin Letian had actually been inside the palace all along. When he woke up, he had no idea where he was. He tugged at the chains around his feet, utterly confused, until the system informed him:

“This is the secret chamber of Guanju Palace.”

Now that Han Qi was the head of the Jinyiwei, he had unrestricted access to the palace. Keeping Lin Letian hidden here was indeed a clever idea. Letian couldn’t help but praise him: “This was his mother’s palace. Locking me up here means two things: one, he’s familiar with the place, and two, he really likes me.”

The system had nothing left to say—it was becoming numb to Letian’s antics.

He had been locked up for more than half a month, living a life of pure indulgence. Three meals a day, plus a midnight snack and tonic soups, all hand-fed by Han Qi. Letian, on his part, played his role by declaring, “I won’t eat!” “Get lost!” “If you have the guts, just kill me!”—the usual useless three-line protest. But in the face of Han Qi’s overwhelming strength, he still ended up eating and drinking as usual.

“It’s been half a month…” he lay on the soft couch of the secret chamber and let out a long sigh. “I can’t take it anymore.”

The system felt a glimmer of hope—so even someone as shameless as him couldn’t endure being confined like this?

Letian continued, “I’ve been nursed back to health so well. Why hasn’t Han Qi slept with me yet?”

The system: …

Warmth and full stomachs bring sinful thoughts. Han Qi had been tending to him every day like a silent servant. That cold, brooding demeanor—it was incredibly attractive. Letian loved watching him look all tormented. He was especially cool like this. And with Han Qi occasionally feeding him mouth-to-mouth, it tickled his heart. But he couldn’t break character and reciprocate.

The sound of the stone door turning echoed through the room. He immediately got into character, putting on his signature lifeless expression.

Han Qi set the food box on the table and carefully arranged the dishes. Without looking up, he asked, “Not hungry?”

Letian continued his strategic silence.

Han Qi picked up a bowl of soft fish soup, sat down by the couch, scooped a spoonful, and brought it to Letian’s lips. Letian slapped the spoon away, coldly demanding, “When are you going to let me go?”

“Do you think I would let you go?” Han Qi’s tone was calm as he reached for another jade spoon from the food box.

Letian retaliated, leaping off the couch to launch a sneak attack from behind. The chains on his feet jingled with every movement, giving away his approach. Still, he put all his strength into striking Han Qi.

But Han Qi was a trained fighter, far beyond his capabilities. With a swift dodge, he spun around and trapped him firmly in his arms.

Letian struggled desperately, his face flushed red with anger. “Kill me!” he roared.

Han Qi held him tightly against his chest with one arm while keeping the bowl of fish soup steady with the other. Calmly, he said, “I would like to.” But he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Hearing that, Letian immediately countered, “Good! Then kill me now! Don’t worry, if I die, I won’t come back to haunt you.”

Han Qi lowered his gaze, looking at Letian’s furious, red face. “I know.” And that was exactly why he refused to let him die.

Realizing that Han Qi was completely unshaken, Letian—trapped in his grasp—had no way out. He sneered, “Han Qi, you damned bastard. Yes, I’m a eunuch, but what does that make you? A petty, narrow-minded, despicable coward. You’re not even as good as a eunuch!” Then, he spat at him.

Letian thought, If he still tolerates this, then he’s not a real man.

Han Qi finally reached his limit.

He set the fish soup aside, wiped his face with the back of his hand, and lowered his gaze. “Whether I’m a real man or not, Your grace should know best.”

The secret chamber of Guanju Palace had likely been a place for the late emperor’s pleasures, with an exceptionally large bed and layers upon layers of soft pink gauze, enshrouding the space in an ethereal mist.

In the haze, Han Qi’s vision blurred, and he abandoned all restraint. He let his instincts take over. The scent of the person in his arms was intoxicating, sweet enough to make him drunk.

He thought: Then let me be drunk. I don’t care anymore. I won’t care about anything anymore.