The Empress's No.1 Lackey

The next day, early morning.

In the Zhao family residence, inside the bedroom.

The first rays of the rising sun filtered through the paper-covered windows, casting their light upon the handsome features of the soundly sleeping Zhao Douan, lying on the brocaded bed, making his countenance glow brilliantly.

"Yawn…"

Zhao Douan slowly awakened, his eyes fixated on the window drapes as he recalled the previous night's events.

After meeting with Ma Yan at the Imperial Court, he presented the official documents, giving a simple account of the intricate situation.

Ma Yan, notorious among the court officials for his fickleness, immediately brightened up as if the spring breeze had brought rain, much to his delight, and discussed the follow-up details with Zhao Douan.

Zhao Douan pushed for more concessions.

Eventually, perhaps out of regard for Sun Lianying's face, Ma Yan agreed to let Zhao Douan take charge of the case.

After all this toil, it was deep into the night by the time he returned home.

Zhao Douan, completely worn out, skipped his daily meditation and cultivation routine, falling asleep until dawn.

Now, he rose to dress and, pushing open the door of the room, headed towards the dining hall.

He wasn't worried about missing breakfast; it was a rule of the Zhao family:

The cook would prepare breakfast early, and the entire family would wait to eat until after Zhao Douan woke up.

If he didn't rise, both You Jinhua and Zhao Pan had to wait.

"It's practically the life of a depraved landlord..."

Zhao Douan sighed deeply.

At that moment, he suddenly heard the faint sound of cutting through the air.

He saw in the spacious courtyard of the Zhao residence, at the small martial arts training ground.

Zhao Pan, a young girl dressed in lightweight attire, was earnestly swinging a dagger, attacking a straw man she had set up.

The morning sunlight fell on the young girl, already showing a promising figure, shining on her exquisite features with a natural, pure grace.

A yellowed booklet lay spread on the ground beside Zhao Pan. Zhao Douan glanced at it, recognizing it as one he had used when he first started learning martial arts, a gift from Mr. Zhao.

It was one of the entryways to the martial arts, not expensive.

After he had outgrown the beginner's stage, he had casually discarded it, not knowing where it had ended up around the house.

The wind blew, flipping the pages of the "martial arts secret manual," which the girl had somehow discovered and treasured as if it were precious.

Zhao Pan, with utmost concentration, imitated the figures in the booklet, combining breathing exercises with her dagger swings.

Her ferocity and sincerity were apparent as she suddenly thrust the knife between the straw man's legs, causing Zhao Douan to feel an involuntary chill below his belt. He suspected the mad girl was envisioning the straw man as himself.

"Ahem."

Zhao Douan intentionally made a sound. Zhao Pan's clear, round ears twitched, but she continued as if she heard nothing, her chops and slashes growing increasingly aggressive.

"Oh ho, when did you start learning martial arts? That stance is all wrong, and the weapon too. Across the land, what martial arts expert uses a dagger?" Zhao Douan mocked.

Zhao Pan bit back, pretending not to hear.

"Tsk tsk, gone deaf? Let your brother test the quality of your practice."

Zhao Douan raised his hand, a gust of qi shooting from his palm, rolling up a green bamboo pole from under the eaves.

Thump... With the bamboo stick in hand, he swept his arm horizontally.

A fierce whoosh targeted the girl, its intimidating force striking down.

Zhao Pan, startled, hurriedly dodged and weaved.

However, without a master to guide her and with no resources to nourish her body, how could the girl have any "quality" in her practice?

It was nothing but a show, unable to escape.

She was soon in disarray under Zhao Douan's bamboo stick, all the "martial arts techniques" she had memorized from the book, forgotten completely.

In a frantic mess, she swung her dagger wildly, trying desperately to fend off the blows, but her defense was full of holes, not a single one was stopped; the bamboo stick smacked her painfully all over.

The young girl bit her lip, stubbornly refusing to cry out in pain, two rows of tears streaming down her fair cheeks.

Several household servants noticed but remained silent as chilled cicadas, not daring to step forward to intervene—this was not the first time the eldest son had hit the young mistress.

At this point, having been informed by the servants, You Jinhua hurried along the corridor.

From afar, the beautiful lady caught sight of the scene, letting out a mournful cry, her eyes reddening, filled with bitter pain.

"Boring."

Having vented his frustration, Zhao Douan lost interest and tossed the green bamboo stick away.

Then, without looking back, he strode towards the main gate, speaking indifferently:

"I have an appointment outside today; I won't be eating at home."

From behind, You Jinhua rushed to her daughter's side and embraced her tightly:

"Did it hurt? Let Mommy apply some medicine for you."

Zhao Pan didn't make a sound, staring intently at Zhao Douan's distant back figure, her tear-filled eyes like autumn waters.

...

In the distance.

The moment Zhao Douan turned around, his frivolous and flippant demeanor vanished.

Outsiders only thought he was beating the young lady again, but if a true martial artist were present, they would have recognized at a glance that Zhao Douan's stick strikes, though seemingly fierce, were actually light as a dragonfly skimming water.

He was not striking randomly, but instead precisely prodded the major meridian points throughout the girl's body.

"Silly girl, do you think martial arts can be practiced blindly? All your qi and blood are congested... Without external help to clear it, you are waiting to be paralyzed..."

Zhao Douan pursed his lips.

After his rapid and intense thrashing, Zhao Pan might have suffered a bit, but all her meridians were now cleared.

The girl could not perceive it yet; once the current sensation passed, she would understand; he couldn't be bothered to explain.

Of course, the more pressing reason for not explaining was:

He needed to gradually alter his established persona, not too abruptly, or else it would easily arouse his family's suspicions.

After all, the famous catchphrase of the original owner was:

"In my life, Zhao Douan, I owe no explanations to you!"

...

Leaving home.

Zhao Douan walked down the street toward a common teahouse three streets away.

It was early morning, not many people about. Zhao Douan went straight to the second floor, ordered a pot of fine tea, several plates of pastries, a large dish of sunflower seeds, and waited while snacking.

As the sun climbed higher, more patrons filled the teahouse.

When a bored Zhao Douan had arranged the sunflower seed shells into a sketch of the Empress on the table, the sound of horse hooves suddenly came from the street outside!

A large group of government officers dismounted in front of the teahouse and streamed inside.

The shopkeeper, perceptive, recognized the infamous "King Yan" from the Imperial Court of the Capital and his heart skipped a beat. With a smiling face, he ingratiatingly asked:

"Gentlemen officers, would you like some tea?"

"Out of the way!"

The leading Jinyi officer showed no expression, completely devoid of a smile, his sharp gaze swept the first floor and then rushed up to the second.

This commotion scared the patrons stiff, and in their fear, they avoided attraction; they even dared not drink their tea, all getting up, wishing to flee but not daring to.

Afraid of catching the attention of these lawless King Yans.

Since the establishment of the Imperial Court, its notorious reputation was well known.

Even the high officials of the court would shudder at their sight, let alone the common people?

With any trivial pretext, they could arrest someone and throw them into prison; supposedly, just by mentioning the four words "Imperial Court King Yan," crying children would immediately stop, indicative of the terrifying power they held.

"Lord! You're here!"

At this moment, the leading officer dressed in a Jinyi uniform, hand on a long sword, waist hanging with a "bronze plaque," light up in recognition, a warm smile on his face.

He came to the window, bowed with cupped hands, and said in a hushed tone:

"My name is Zhou Cang, a hundred household military officer. I met the Lord last night. By the order of our Lord, I have come with my men, awaiting your commands!"

The group of intimidating government officers behind him also put on humble smiles, all bowing with respect:

"Greetings to the Lord!"

Silence fell over the teahouse as if it were filled with chilled cicadas.

By the window.

Zhao Douan, who had intentionally changed into unostentatious and restrained clothing, and was sitting alone drinking tea, watched this unfold, raised his hand to wipe away the sketched pattern on the table, and frowned slightly.

He disliked the dread the government officers invoked in people in this era, but he clearly understood that the limitations of the time could not be shifted by personal preferences.

"I prefer not to draw attention," Zhao Douan stated calmly.

Zhou Cang paused, thinking to himself, Are you kidding me?

Who in the Capital does not know that Lord Zhao of White Horse Hall loves a grand show?

Although inwardly scoffing, he immediately turned and ordered the fierce and assertive group of government officers to be driven out to wait outside the teahouse.

"Sit down," Zhao Douan instructed with a relaxed brow, nonchalantly asking:

"How is the investigation I tasked you with proceeding?"