Winning the male lead

Le Tian had two reasons for capturing the Li Gang members:

Reactionaries had to be eliminated—he was helping his “son” secure the throne.
He couldn’t allow Han Qi to grow too powerful; the priority was ensuring Zong Yan stayed on the throne for eight years.

His reasoning was solid, and since the host was obedient, the system naturally complied. Of course, it also had its own motives—if Le Tian arrested the Li Gang members, wouldn’t that completely sever ties between him and Han Qi? Just for that reason alone, the system was happy to provide the list.

As long as there was no sign of them getting tangled up together, the system could rest easy. It absolutely wouldn’t allow Le Tian to ruin another protagonist!

But the system could never have anticipated how treacherous the mind of an “elephant” could be.

Han Qi had sensed an unprecedented crisis. His mind had been in turmoil for days, and today, at last, the chaos was beginning to take shape.

The Li Gang was no small faction. It had existed for three years—since the time Le Tian had started solidifying his power by the late emperor’s side, some people had already begun to form alliances out of caution. After all, eunuchs seizing power was nothing new in history.

He closed the secret report and calmly asked, “Where are they?”

“They’re locked in the prison. Would you like to see them, sir?”

He was silent for a moment. “Keep them locked up for a few days.”

“Understood.”

How could this have happened? He had actually believed Le Tian was dying. Could a dying man still make such decisive moves? He was so furious that he laughed at himself—at his own naïve lapse in vigilance against a eunuch. But after calming down slightly, he also sensed something deeper:

Le Tian was testing him.

No need for deep thought—the issue must have been the Hu Qidao case. He had used the Li Gang’s network to leak information about his movements. If that was the case, then technically, he bore some responsibility for the situation.

No wonder Le Tian had been acting so strangely toward him. He had been probing him all along. And yet, he had racked his brain trying to make sense of it, unable to sleep peacefully for days.

The more he thought, the more he seethed—his teeth clenched with hatred. He hated Le Tian, yet he didn’t know if he hated him as a person or if he simply hated his own foolish self-deception.

Now, Le Tian lurked in the shadows while he stood in the light—an extremely tricky position. He had underestimated him. A mere eunuch, yet he wielded power like a storm. And he had almost fallen for his act—had nearly mistaken him for a harmless little cat that feared pain.

But he was no cat.

He was a tiger.

He thought about it all day but couldn’t come up with a good plan. In the end, he settled on a desperate move—setting fire to the prison.

He would use the chaos of the fire to secretly release the prisoners. It was an extremely risky plan. Since Le Tian was already suspicious, he would undoubtedly keep a close eye on him. If the case assigned to him ended in such a bizarre turn of events, it would only solidify Le Tian’s suspicions.

But he had no choice. He couldn’t just stand by and watch those people die because of him.

That night, a fire broke out in the Eastern Depot prison. But the strangest thing was that when the fire was extinguished, all the prisoners had vanished without a trace.

A disaster like this couldn’t be ignored. As the chief examiner of the case, he had no choice but to enter the palace immediately to present his apologies to Le Tian.

It was the hour of Chou (1–3 AM), yet Le Tian was still awake. A dim, yellow light flickered in his room.

The young eunuch guarding the door greeted him with a smile, his voice sweet and coy. “Oh, Lord Han, you’ve arrived.” It was as if they had been expecting him.

Seeing this, Han Qi guessed that Le Tian already knew everything. Instead of feeling tense, he became eerily calm. “I request an audience with His Grace.”

“Please, come in.” The eunuch turned and opened the door for him, the whole process smooth and effortless.

Inside, Le Tian was draped in a dark red robe, half-reclining on the bed while flipping through a book. No one else was in the room. Behind Han Qi, the eunuch quietly closed the door.

“Come here,” Le Tian said without lifting his head. His tone was soft and even, no different from usual.

Han Qi stepped forward in silence, his tall frame casting a shadow over the pages of Le Tian’s book. Le Tian closed the book and looked up at him. Han Qi’s face was slightly smudged with soot from the “firefighting” efforts.

He did not take the handkerchief. Instead, he dropped to one knee and said, “I am here to confess my crime.”

“There’s no need for lies,” Lín Le Tian said indifferently, tossing the handkerchief in front of him.

Han Qi’s heart clenched—so he really did know.

“Consider your dealings with Li Gang wiped clean in this fire. I will not pursue them, nor will I pursue you,” Lin Le Tian said in one breath. He seemed a little weak, pausing to take a deep breath before continuing slowly, “Just focus on serving His Majesty well… cough cough…“

Suddenly, he was wracked with a violent coughing fit. Without thinking, Han Qi picked up the handkerchief and handed it to him. Lin Le Tian coughed so fiercely that his whole body curled forward, nearly collapsing into Han Qi’s arms. Listening to his thunderous coughs, Han Qi’s mind fell into further disarray.

After a long while, Le Tian finally regained his composure. He sat up straight, blood seeping from the corners of his lips. Without concern, he wiped it away with the handkerchief, then balled it up and tossed it into the brazier beside the bed.

Han Qi remained silent, but his mind was a whirlwind. He had assumed Le Tian suspected him, but he hadn’t expected him to let it go so easily. And it seemed… he truly was gravely ill.

Le Tian’s face, flushed from his coughing fit, actually looked a little more spirited. He leaned against a soft pillow and leisurely said, “Eliminate the eunuch faction, uphold loyalty and righteousness—such an impressive slogan.”

Han Qi pressed his lips together and struggled to say, “Your Grace…”

“Because I am a eunuch, I am inherently inferior?” Lin Le Tian said coldly, his expression turning increasingly sharp. “A eunuch should obediently play the role of a servant and should never hold power beyond ordinary men?” His eyes grew even darker as he sneered, “Do you think my intelligence and methods are comparable to those fools? Just because I am a eunuch… Listen carefully, Han Qi—while the Eastern Depot is in my hands, it remains the most loyal blade in His Majesty’s arsenal. I chose you to wield that blade—not because of your talent, but simply because you are His Majesty’s last remaining brother.”

Han Qi’s head snapped up in shock. At that moment, his mind had never been in greater turmoil.

“What’s wrong, Seventh Prince? Are you surprised?” Le Tian chuckled lightly and gave him a slow once-over before casually remarking, “You were much cuter as a child.”

Since the pretense was shattered, Han Qi no longer bothered to act. He even subtly gripped the hilt of his embroidered spring blade (Xiuchun Dao), ready to strike at a moment’s notice. “You have slaughtered countless of my brothers, and yet you dare speak of loyalty and righteousness?”

“So what if I killed a few princes? Which emperor hasn’t stepped on the blood of his brothers to ascend the throne? Seventh Prince, you are far too naive,” Le Tian pressed a hand to his chest, his voice sharp and unrelenting. “My loyalty is to His Majesty. If you harbor treasonous thoughts, then you are the one guilty of disloyalty.”

“Silence!” Han Qi roared, drawing his blade and pressing it against his throat, glaring at him with fury. He could not believe that such a man could so shamelessly twist right and wrong.

Le Tian smirked, unfazed by the blade at his throat. “What’s the matter, Seventh Prince? Are you so enraged that you’ve lost your composure? You claim to act in the name of loyalty and brotherhood, but in the end, it’s nothing more than personal vendetta.”

“Even if I kill you, it does not make me disloyal. It does not mean I am a traitor, as you claim,” Han Qi gritted his teeth.

Le Tian’s smile widened, sweet yet venomous. “You’ve been in the Eastern Depot long enough. You know my loyalty to His Majesty better than anyone. If you kill me tonight, then it will not be I who is guilty of disloyalty—it will be you, the prince who killed a loyal minister out of personal resentment. If that doesn’t make you disloyal, would only dethroning His Majesty qualify?”

Han Qi’s entire body trembled with rage, his grip on the sword shaking violently. His face, darkened by soot, flushed a furious red. But under Le Tian’s mocking gaze, he found himself utterly paralyzed. He could only watch as Le Tian effortlessly pushed the blade away with a single slender finger.

“Seventh Prince, you cannot kill me,” Le Tian murmured. I still have eight years left to live—this act is mine to play out.

Then, as if nothing had happened, he leisurely lay back down, coughed lightly a few times, and closed his eyes, as though he were going to sleep. He did not take Han Qi seriously at all.

Such a mind…

Han Qi’s chest heaved violently. His raised blade trembled, and then, with a sudden burst of frustration, he slashed downward—severing Le Tian’s pillow in two. White feathers burst into the air, drifting down like snow. Gritting his teeth, he spat out, “Lin Le Tian, you will not die a good death.”

Snow-like feathers landed on Le Tian’s dark hair and long lashes. He merely smiled, unmoved.

“Leave,” he said.