The Empress's No.1 Lackey

The artist's brushwork was exquisitely meticulous; the young woman's spirit and appearance vividly leaped off the paper.

"Feng seems to have thought everything through quite thoroughly..."

Zhao Douan was surprised, and suddenly a thought struck him:

"With a portrait and a name, I wonder if the Magic Artifact could be effective."

He reached into his garment and pulled out a small silver mirror, roughly the size of half a palm, flipping it to reveal the engraved words "Fengyue Treasure Mirror" on the back.

Silently in his mind, he sketched Feng Lianlian's features and chanted her name.

Gradually, ripples began to form on the surface of the mirror.

At first, it was blurry, but just as Zhao Douan was about to give up, a scene slowly emerged.

It was a dimly lit room resembling a firewood shed.

On the floor lay a woman, bound with hemp ropes, dressed and looking remarkably similar to the one in the portrait.

"It actually works..."

Zhao Douan's heart stirred, and he attempted to manipulate the imagery in the mirror to zoom out.

He could vaguely see it was a residential house.

Several people appeared to be guarding the courtyard, and at the main gate, hung half of a "door god" print, with a red flower painted on the door panel.

"Buzzz—" The imagery in the mirror shattered, as if the Mana had been completely depleted.

Zhao Douan immediately took paper and pen, wrote down the landmarks near the house, and summoned Qian Kerou:

"Can you tell where this is?"

The young secretary looked at him with eyes wide open, curious about his mysterious actions.

She stretched her neck to look and said:

"It seems to be in the eastern part of the Capital, I saw the Drum Tower... Oh, this is a mark of the Red Flower Society, it must be one of their branches."

Red Flower Society... the largest underworld organization in the Capital, backed by Marquis Xiajiang... Zhao Douan thought of the descriptions in the documents, his eyes lighting up.

Everything matched up.

"Very well," he didn't hesitate, quickly writing a letter and handing it to her:

"Pass this to the government officer to hand over to Feng Ju, remember to keep it concealed and be careful not to be noticed."

"Yes," Qian Kerou obediently nodded.

Zhao Douan then handed her the paper he had copied, along with the portrait of Feng Lianlian:

"Copy the previous drawing a few times, summon Hou Renmeng and the others, take our people, and immediately go check it out!

We must find this place before night falls today!

How many branches could the Red Flower Society possibly have in the Capital? Even if we use the crudest method and split up to check each one, we must find it!

Take control of the people inside and bring them back safely."

The young Jinyi, in her early twenties with a naive and straightforward appearance, was momentarily stunned and said:

"But with such a vague area, relying on our manpower might not be enough."

The key issue was time, as there were only about two hours until dusk.

Zhao Douan coldly said:

"Then distribute the portrait to the other branches, tell them I need to borrow their people, if they don't comply, I'll personally pay them a visit."

"Uh..."

Qian Kerou froze, seeing the coldness in Zhao Douan's eyes. Despite the summer heat, she couldn't help but shiver:

"Yes! I'll see to it immediately!"

She then hurried out, puzzled:

Who is the poor soul that has provoked our own little King Yan this time?

...

...

In the Capital, inside a private room of a tea house.

A slightly chubby scholar paced back and forth in the room without stopping.

Next to the tea table, the middle-aged man wearing a headscarf also had a distressed expression:

"Brother Zigu, stop walking around, you're making me dizzy."

The chubby scholar sighed:

"Chang Feng, it has been quite a while since Feng went there, why hasn't he returned yet? Could it be that he was detained by someone with the surname Zhao? Shall we go check it out?"

The headscarfed middle-aged man shook his head:

"If he was really detained, the house servants he left outside would have come to report. If we rashly go there now and alert Marquis Xiajiang's informants, that would be problematic."

"Alas."

Just as the chubby scholar was about to speak, suddenly, the door to the private room was pulled open.

Both were startled, yet they saw Feng Ju walk in disheveled.

"How did it go? Did you see Zhao? What did he say?" both quickly got up to ask.

Feng Ju hesitated and then handed over a piece of paper he was clutching in his palm.

The letter only contained three words:

"Understood."

Understood? What does that mean?

The chubby scholar questioned: "He didn't say anything else? Just these three words?"

Feng Ju nodded, and sat down despondently, his face filled with disappointment.

The reply was ambiguous, neither clearly offering help nor refusing it, leaving him somewhat uneasy.

The middle-aged man with the cloth headgear pondered and said,

"Since he didn't detain you, it at least shows he didn't intend to silence you. There must be some actions planned; overthinking is useless. Since you've sought his help, you have cut off the possibility of agreeing to help Marquis Xiajiang. All you can do is wait patiently for a change in the situation."

Feng Ju nodded silently; waiting was indeed the only option he had left.

The two friends exchanged glances and silently sighed.

They no longer held any hope that Zhao Douan would come to the rescue.

...

Narcissus Hall.

"What? They want to borrow our people? To help that Zhao Douan?"

Haitang, with her high ponytail and heroic appearance, and a waist pouch full of Flying Knives, was taken aback.

Her subordinate nodded:

"This is the portrait that was delivered; you weren't here just moments ago. The other party seemed very anxious, left a message, and then left. It looks like they're going to ask at every single hall."

All the halls, he, surnamed Zhao, wanted to borrow people... Haitang raised her eyebrows.

Though recently, many people in the government office had secretly started calling him "Little King Yan," a figure considered to be the most formidable presence under the Lord.

But that did not mean he, surnamed Zhao, really had the right to give them orders.

We are all of the same rank; who commands whom?

"Did they say anything else?" Haitang asked.

The subordinate hesitated, "Master Zhao said if you don't help, he will come personally to talk to you."

What an attitude!

Haitang's willow eyebrows shot up, her chest heaving with palpable annoyance.

"Madam, what should we do...?" the subordinate timidly asked.

Haitang cursed:

"Lend them! Just consider this once I'm afraid of him! Happy now?"

The subordinate silently exited, listening to Haitang smash things inside the hall, he breathed a sigh of relief.

If possible, the Jinyi of Narcissus Hall would rather not provoke that "Little King Yan."

It was just lending a hand after all; no need to burn bridges.

...

Peony Hall.

"Borrow people?"

Zhang Han, with his expressionless face and fair complexion, looked down at the female novice beneath him, his voice filled with doubt.

Facing this formidable figure directly below the Lord alone was somewhat daunting for Qian Kerou, but thinking of representing Lihua Hall's honor, she straightened her back and sternly said:

"Yes. Our leader stated, if you…"

"Okay." Zhang Han put away the scroll, stood up, went to the door, and summoned over a dozen Colonels, beginning to dispatch troops.

"…" Qian Kerou was taken aback by how smoothly it went.

Even Zhang Han was this afraid of their own little King Yan?

"Anything else?" Zhang Han finished arranging his people and turned around to look at her puzzledly.

"No…" Qian Kerou turned to leave when Zhang Han suddenly remembered something and stopped her:

"Right, tell Zhao Douan that my house gate was smashed by Hou Renmeng. Your Lihua Hall will pay for the repairs."

"...Oh."

Thus, that afternoon, an odd scene unfolded in the Imperial Court.

Qian Kerou walked around eight different halls.

Then, nine halls subsequently dispatched groups of people, each clutching a hurriedly copied map, heading in various directions towards the Capital.

Objective:

All the hall locations resembling the portrait, the branches of the Red Flower Society scattered throughout the Capital.

For a moment, countless Jinyi were mobilized, their horses' hooves thundering, causing bystanders along the way to look askance.

Everyone wondered which high official was falling from grace this time,

to cause such a commotion?

And what surprised everyone even more,

following a single command from Zhao Douan, every hall of the various factions of the Red Flower Society was simultaneously raided by a fierce group of government officers in the late afternoon close to dusk.

...

In the east of the city,

Inside a secluded house with tightly closed gates,

Around five or six gang members sat around a square table in the courtyard, eating meat and drinking wine.

Under the sunlight, the Red Flower insignia painted on the gate and the blurred image of a door god reflected a blood-like light.

The leader, a brawny man with a Red Flower embroidered on his chest lapel, took a sip of wine and looked toward the tightly closed wooden door, chuckling:

"The spirited little lady is still putting up a fight after being tied up for so long."

...

TYPO TO BE CORRECTED LATER