Winning the male lead

Han Qi’s thoughts were entirely occupied by Lin Le Tian, so much so that even when Zong Yan smiled and pulled him into conversation, he didn’t hear a single word. He absentmindedly nodded along, completely unaware.

Since he was naturally quiet, Zong Yan didn’t find it strange and continued talking happily. Finally, he said, “Little Lin has gotten lazy and made me handle the memorials for him.”

Han Qi’s thoughts of leaving suddenly disappeared. He sat up straight and said solemnly, “The Grand Eunuch is letting Your Majesty take charge of state affairs?”

Zong Yan looked confused. “What does ‘taking charge of state affairs’ mean?”

He still had only a vague understanding of how to be a proper emperor. With Yang Qianyi and Lin Le Tian guiding him, he had only just begun to grasp the basics. All he knew was that he was no longer as carefree as before and had many ‘assignments’ to complete. Yang Qianyi told him that these were responsibilities he should be shouldering as emperor, but Zong Yan always felt that Lin Le Tian was just being lazy.

Thinking of Lin Le Tian, his expression darkened. “Little Lin has been so lazy lately. Even when I summon him, he doesn’t come. He just hides in his courtyard all day, sleeping.”

Han Qi’s mind was in turmoil. Could it be that he was really sick and dying?

The best way to find out was to ask the Imperial Medical Bureau. He hurriedly took his leave from Zong Yan, his steps unsteady in a way he himself did not notice.

Zhang Yuanpan was sun-drying medicinal herbs when Han Qi arrived. He greeted him warmly, his mustache curling up with his smile. “Lord Han, you’re finally back!”

Although Han Qi’s mission wasn’t exactly a top-secret affair, it hadn’t been openly publicized either. Yet, somehow, it felt as if the entire palace knew about it. He chose not to dwell on the thought. Keeping his expression neutral, he pushed his thoughts aside, casually picking up a stalk of duck-yellow herb and asking indifferently, “How has Lord Zhang been lately?”

Zhang Yuanpan waved his hand. “Same as always.”

“What about the Grand Eunuch’s injury… has it healed?” he hesitated.

“It healed a long time ago,” Zhang Yuanpan replied cheerfully, his expression unchanged.

Han Qi wanted to press further—if his back injury was healed, what about everything else? Was he truly dying? But he couldn’t bring himself to ask. He played with the herb in his hand for a moment before casually tossing it back and cupping his hands in farewell. “I take my leave.”

“Go on, go on.” Zhang Yuanpan waved him off but suddenly seemed to remember something and asked, “Have you seen His Grace?”

Han Qi paused. “I have.”

“How did he look?”

Han Qi frowned. “Why are you asking me this?”

“Oh, Lord Han, you may not know, but His Grace hasn’t seen anyone for several days now. He won’t even let me take his pulse.” Zhang Yuanpan shook his round head and sighed. “His Grace’s body has always been weak. If he doesn’t take proper care of himself, it will be difficult to manage.”

Han Qi was completely stunned. It felt like his throat was stuffed with cotton. He wanted to ask why Lin Le Tian was willing to see him alone. But then he thought—what was there to ask? It must be because he was waiting for his report on the mission. Han Qi gave himself an answer, yet his mind had never been so chaotic.

For so long, he had lived with a single goal—to one day personally kill his enemy. He had never allowed any other thoughts to interfere. Even when he had been on the battlefield, hanging between life and death, all that occupied his mind was: survive, so that he could one day kill Lin Le Tian. His determination had always been unwavering.

So what was wrong with him now?

That night, he drank alone by candlelight in his small courtyard in the capital, sorting through his thoughts, but no matter how he tried, he couldn’t make sense of them. His blade lay on the table, its dull sheen reflecting the dim light. When he drank to the point of inebriation, he could bear it no longer and unsheathed his sword, swinging it wildly.

Fueled by alcohol, he unleashed everything he had learned in his lifetime against the empty air. Whenever he practiced martial arts, the enemy in his mind was always Lin Le Tian. He had often imagined how high his blood would splash when his blade cut his throat—whether it would be cold or warm.

Back then, he had never seen Lin Le Tian’s face. He had only imagined him as the most sinister and cunning villain in the world, and so his strikes had always been filled with murderous intent.

But now, he knew what he looked like.

Phoenix-shaped eyes, thin lips, pale skin like a delicate flower. His expression was always vaguely smiling, always looking at people as if from both near and far.

The blade stopped mid-air.

His killing intent was gone.

With a clang, his blade fell to the ground. He collapsed onto his knees, utterly exhausted.

A heavy rain fell in the middle of the night, signaling the arrival of midsummer. He sat in the rain for half the night. Perhaps it was due to his chaotic emotions and repressed thoughts, but despite his usual iron will, this seemingly insignificant rainfall actually managed to make him fall ill.

When Le Tian heard that he was sick, he eagerly prepared to visit him.

The system was immediately on high alert. “Are you planning something devious?”

Le Tian was indignant. “I already told you, I have no interest in torturing him emotionally or physically.”

It was the absolute truth—there wasn’t a hint of insincerity in his voice. But the system, still distrustful of his motives, tried to dissuade him. “Don’t go. Just focus on raising your kid. Eight years will pass before you know it.”

Recently, Le Tian had shifted some of his workload onto Zong Yan. By now, he had perfected the art of coughing up blood and had grown quite skilled at it. Other than the bland food, life was actually rather comfortable.

But he was an ambitious man. With a wave of his hand, he declared, “I’m leaving the palace.”

Han Qi was alone in the capital. He had always been alone. Burning with fever and drifting in and out of consciousness, he had no one to care for him. Not that he needed anyone—he had survived far worse on the battlefield, and he would get through this too.

Suddenly, the scent of something familiar reached his nose. A voice, soft and distant, murmured beside him. He strained to hear, but the harder he tried, the less he could understand. In the end, he sank into an even deeper unconsciousness.

Le Tian arrived with two young eunuchs and sent them off to the kitchen to prepare medicine and porridge.

Once they were gone, Le Tian stared at him and began to drool.

Han Qi was burning with fever, his face flushed, his usual sharp demeanor softened into that of a youthful warrior. He was clad only in a simple white robe, the outline of his muscles faintly visible beneath the thin fabric. Le Tian leaned in, trying to count the number of abs hidden beneath his clothes. “Is it six or eight? I can’t see clearly. Should I just take it off?”

The system was furious. “Don’t you dare!”

He said nonchalantly, “Relax, I was just joking. Just looking.”

Even so, his gaze lingered on Han Qi’s slightly open collar. Unlike his own sickly pallor, Han Qi’s skin was a healthy, vibrant white, like polished jade. He sighed softly, then reached out to lift the blanket at his waist.

The system screeched, “What are you doing?!”

Le Tian remained calm. “Didn’t I say? Just looking.”

System: …Pretend not to understand.

Le Tian’s eyes wandered as he took advantage of Han Qi’s unconscious state. Suddenly, he heard Han Qi whimper and quickly leaned in to listen.

He was burning with fever, his breath coming out hot. He muttered intermittently, “…Eunuch… I’ll kill… you…”

The system gloated, “Did you hear that clearly?”

Le Tian straightened up, rubbing his chin as he looked at him, who was frowning in distress. He mused, “Even in his dreams, it’s all about me. That’s dangerous.”

The system assumed he meant that Han Qi’s desire to kill him was dangerous. Out of a sense of duty as a responsible system, it reassured him, “Don’t worry, no matter how much he wants to kill you, you won’t die.”

Le Tian was silent for three seconds, mourning the system’s naivety.

Han Qi was probably close to his limit. Le Tian smirked slightly and took out a dark sandalwood handkerchief from his robes, gently wiping the sweat off his face. Since Han Qi even dreamed of killing him, the system ignored them, thinking that Le Tian was being pitifully sentimental.

As the soft handkerchief moved from Han Qi’s sharp brows to his flushed cheeks, Han Qi suddenly grabbed his hand. His eyes snapped open without warning, locking onto Le Tian’s. For a moment, he wondered if he was still dreaming. “You…”

“You’re awake.” Le Tian tugged his wrist slightly but couldn’t free himself. He frowned coldly. “Let go.”

Only then did Han Qi realize he was clutching his wrist. He hurriedly released him and tried to sit up. “Lord Eunuch.”

Le Tian patted his shoulder. “Lie down.”

Han Qi’s heart pounded violently, harder than before because of the fever—almost as if it were about to leap out of his chest. He spoke hoarsely, “Why has your grace come?” Hadn’t he refused to see anyone?

Le Tian didn’t answer. Instead, he tossed the handkerchief near Han Qi’s ear. “Wipe yourself.” Then he clasped his hands together and walked out.

Han Qi watched his retreating figure, his lips parting as if to call him back. But he quickly suppressed the impulse. The door opened, letting in daylight. Clad in plain white robes, Le Tian seemed almost translucent in the sunlight. He paused at the doorway, bent slightly to pick something up, then turned back inside, holding a crystal tank. His tone was indifferent. “I brought this for you. A dignified Hundred-Household officer of the Jinyiwei—why is there not even a proper table in your room?”

Inside the tank, two red-scaled fish swam in circles. Their tails flicked, splashing water onto Le Tian’s face. He frowned, seeming momentarily at a loss.

Han Qi, watching the scene unfold, couldn’t help but chuckle. Realizing he had laughed, he immediately darkened his expression further.

Just then, a young eunuch rushed in with a bowl of medicine. “Your Grace, the medicine is ready.” Seeing Le Tian holding the crystal tank, he gasped. “Oh dear, Your Grace, how could you hold that with your hands? Let this servant do it!” But since his hands were occupied with the medicine, he was momentarily stuck.

Le Tian placed the tank on the ground, took the medicine bowl, and said, “Leave it in the courtyard. Find a cool, shaded place where it won’t be exposed to the sun.”

The eunuch responded quickly, “Yes, Your Grace.” He picked up the fish tank and left.

Le Tian carried the medicine to the bedside and handed it to Han Qi. “Drink.”

Han Qi took the bowl but hesitated, gripping the rim tightly. He asked gravely, “Why do you care for this subordinate so much?”

Because you’re handsome, and I want to explore the great harmony of life with you, Le Tian thought secretly. Instead, he said coldly, “Drink the medicine.”

Han Qi remained silent for a moment before downing the bitter medicine in one gulp. He had probably caught a cold—every time he fell ill since leaving the palace, he never took medicine, only endured.

After he finished drinking, Le Tian let out a soft cough. He reached for his handkerchief but remembered that he had thrown it to Han Qi. Turning his back to him, he covered his mouth with his hand, stifling a few more coughs before saying, “From today on, you are the Associate Commander of the Jinyiwei. Serve His Majesty well.”

What did he mean by “serve His Majesty”? Was he really going to die…? Han Qi stared at him intently. Watching carefully, he clearly saw thin streaks of blood on his fingers before they were quickly hidden beneath the wide sleeves of his robe.

“Take care of yourself.” Le Tian’s frail figure once again stepped into the sunlight. This time, he did not look back.

Han Qi’s head ached even more. He gripped the empty medicine bowl and sat still for a long time.

He recovered from his minor illness in a single day and immediately returned to the Eastern Depot. Everywhere he went, people congratulated him on his promotion, telling him that Lin Rusi had been dismissed. Now, in the Jinyiwei, he was second only to one.

His steps felt light yet unsteady, as if he were walking on clouds. He entered his office and sat down, motionless like a statue—a statue with a mind in turmoil.

“Lord Han, a tricky case.”

Han Qi lifted his head and took the confidential report. The moment he opened it, his pupils contracted sharply. In just one day of his absence, the Lì Gang had been wiped out—every single member arrested by the Eastern Depot!

A chill crept up his spine. In his mind’s eye, he saw an exquisitely beautiful face—charming as a flower, venomous as a scorpion—staring at him with an all-knowing gaze…

Meanwhile, in the palace, Le Tian sipped his bland tofu pudding and thought: Little bastard, so what if you’re the protagonist? You’re still too green to go up against me. I have a dumb system helping me—what about you? Loser.