Chapter 48: Into a Political Intrigue Novel, Day 26 (End)

Chapter 48: The Twenty-Sixth Day of Entering the Power Struggle Novel (End)

A year and a half later.

Deep winter.

The leaden gray clouds hung low over the majestic palace rooftops, as if they might collapse at any moment.

The biting north wind howled like a knife wrapped in ice shards, whistling across the empty square, sweeping up remnants of blackened paper money already trampled into dust.

The echoes of the death knell still reverberated low in every corner of the imperial city, lingering long.

Twenty-seven strikes—the emperor had passed.

The Hall of Supreme Harmony.

The crown prince, a mere fourteen years old, was wrapped in a bright yellow dragon robe.

He was seated on the massive golden dragon throne, his cheeks pale as paper, his lips tightly pressed, struggling to maintain the dignity befitting a sovereign.

Below the steps, the assembled officials stood in rank order, heads bowed, holding their breath in utter silence.

The chief eunuch stood beside the throne, holding the imperial edict. His shrill voice echoed through the vast hall:

"...The Crown Prince, Chengji, is naturally endowed with benevolence and filial piety, wise and precocious, fit to succeed the throne... We hereby appoint Chief Grand Secretary An Yi and General of Cavalry Ge Lian as assisting ministers, to assist diligently and govern all affairs... All civil and military officials, both within and without the court, shall cooperate in supporting and protecting the young ruler... Let this be proclaimed to all under heaven, that all may know!"

"Your ministers humbly obey the late Emperor's decree! Long live His Majesty! Long live! Long live!"

The assembled officials knelt in unison on the icy golden bricks, their foreheads touching the ground.

The young emperor's eyes were bright. A flush rose on his pale face. His hand instinctively gripped the wide sleeve of his dragon robe, his knuckles white from the strain.

His gaze swept across the hall and landed on An Yi, standing at the very front of the civil officials.

The young emperor's tense body seemed to relax slightly. He took a deep breath, straightened his back, and in his youthful voice, tried to mimic the tone of his late father:

"Rise, all ministers."

"Long live your Majesty!" The officials rose and stood with their hands clasped, in solemn silence.

Entirely different from the original plotline.

Ge Lian had no ambition to seize the dragon throne. The crown prince, under An Yi's protection, had safely survived mortal peril and now sat properly on the throne.

The threats in Jiangnan were nipped in the bud, the rebellion never ignited into a full blaze. Peace reigned across the land, and stability was dawning.

An Yi slightly lifted his eyelids, his gaze briefly sweeping over the figure in yellow on the throne. A faint, almost imperceptible smile flickered in the depths of his eyes.

May this land be free from turmoil, the nation prosperous and its people at peace.

----------

"Grand Secretary An! Cousin Ge! Please wait a moment!"

Hearing the voice behind them, An Yi and Ge Lian paused in unison, turning to look with unspoken understanding.

Princess Shaoli, accompanied by two maidservants, was quickly walking out from the shadow of the corridor. She wore a simple moon-white palace gown, with a silver fox fur cloak over it. Her dark hair was adorned with only a plain silver hairpin—simple attire due to the national mourning.

Yet this plain attire could not diminish her stunning beauty at all. Her brows were like distant mountains, her eyes like autumn waters, her skin as fair as snow. But on that exquisite face, there was an expression difficult to describe.

Her gaze first fell on An Yi, fraught with complexity.

Then her eyes shifted to Ge Lian, instantly sharpening, with a knowing look.

Her eyes lingered on Ge Lian's face for a moment, then swiftly swept over the distance—far closer than normal colleagues—between him and An Yi. The corner of her lips curled into the slightest, meaningful arc.

So that's it... The rumors in court were not unfounded. Though no one spoke openly about the matter between the Grand Secretary and the General of Cavalry, it was widely whispered in private.

And the two showed no intention of hiding it.

"So that's why, cousin... I see."

An Yi: ...

Ge Lian: ...

"Grand Secretary An, Cousin." Princess Shaoli slightly bent her knee, performing a flawless court salute, her voice clear and melodious: "During the mourning period, I ought not to disturb you. But... after meeting old friends again after a long time, amidst this sudden upheaval, my heart is heavy. Seeing you two pillars of the state brings me some peace."

Ge Lian rubbed his nose. He keenly sensed the teasing smile in Princess Shaoli's eyes when she looked at An Yi and then at him. He felt awkward.

But soon, a defiant pride surged in his heart: No matter what you think, An Junheng is meant for me!

An Yi's expression remained unchanged. He nodded slightly in return: "Please accept my condolences, Your Highness. The late Emperor's spirit is above, and will surely bless the Great Yin dynasty's realm to remain eternal. Your Highness should also take care of your health."

Princess Shaoli lifted her eyes, her autumn-water eyes staring straight at An Yi. Then she cast a glance at Ge Lian, whose face had darkened, and the corners of her lips curled into a faint, elusive, meaningful smile: "Thank you for your concern, Grand Secretary An. You've lost weight—no doubt worn down by state affairs. The fate of the realm rests on you, Grand Secretary. I hope... you will take good care of yourself."

Her words were gentle and solicitous. She paused for a moment, her gaze seemingly inadvertently sweeping over Ge Lian's hard, iron-like face again, and her voice took on a subtle, indescribable melancholy: "But... this vast palace, things remain, but people are gone. Some old friends and past events, though buried in dust, evoke sighs of nostalgia when one sees familiar sights. Lord Grand Secretary..."

An Yi's pupils constricted almost imperceptibly, and he broke out in a cold sweat.

What did Princess Shaoli want? He remembered that the original An Yi had no romantic ties with her, right?

He clearly sensed Ge Lian's sudden jealousy, and he could hear Ge Lian grinding his teeth audibly!

"Shaoli!" Ge Lian's voice suddenly turned cold, carrying a barely noticeable warning.

An Yi's mouth twitched: "Your Highness, the past is gone. Now, during the national mourning, state affairs should take precedence. An has his duties and cannot afford to slack off. I'll take my leave."

With that, he turned and walked away. Ge Lian stood still, not immediately following An Yi.

He slowly turned, his ink-black eyes fixed on Princess Shaoli's face.

Princess Shaoli met Ge Lian's murderous gaze fearlessly. The smile on her lips only deepened. She lifted her chin slightly, her eyes full of challenge.

Ge Lian frowned. He said nothing, but gave Princess Shaoli a slow nod.

Then, he turned abruptly. The hem of his court robe swept a sharp arc through the air, and he strode off after An Yi.

Princess Shaoli stood alone, watching the two figures disappear swiftly into the palace corridor's depths.

Her smile gradually became uncontrollable, and she couldn't help covering her mouth with a handkerchief.

"Am I not suitable?" she murmured, her voice as light as a sigh, but with a note of excitement: "Cousin, are you suitable, then?"

She wrapped her cloak more tightly and turned to leave: "How amusing."

She chuckled softly: "If he's going to interfere with my marriage like this, I'll definitely make him feel a little uneasy! I'm not someone to be trifled with!"

Entering the Power Struggle Novel (Extra)

It was the depths of winter, at a villa on the outskirts of the capital.

Goose-feather snowflakes fell silently, painting the world a pristine silver-white.

Far from the clamor of the imperial city, An Yi's private estate felt like a secluded paradise, where only the soft rustle of snow settling on branches broke the silence.

Inside the warm pavilion, the heated floor blazed intensely, its cozy warmth dispelling the bitter cold outside.

The air was filled with a faint, calming incense scent, mingling with the sweet aroma of plum wine warming on a small red clay stove, creating a hazy, drowsy comfort.

An Yi, clad only in a pale moon-white silk robe and draped in a light blue-grey fox fur blanket, reclined on a soft couch by the window.

A book rested in his hands, but his gaze wasn't on the pages; instead, he tilted his head to gaze at the snow-laden branches of red plum trees in the courtyard outside.

His refined profile, lit by the warm lamp, shed much of the court's cool dignity, replaced by a soft, languid homecomeness.

His long lashes lowered, casting a small, tranquil shadow beneath his eyes.

When Ge Lian pushed open the door and entered, he brought with him a trace of cold air from outside.

He had just finished spear practice and was casually dressed in dark, narrow-sleeved training clothes, unbelted, with his collar slightly open, revealing his defined chest and a small patch of sweat-glistening skin.

His black hair was tied up with a simple ebony hairpin, a few unruly strands falling over his forehead, adding a touch of untamed wildness.

He immediately spotted the figure on the couch, gazing absently at the snow.

Under the lamplight, admiring a beauty—especially An Yi, who had set aside all thorns and defenses—Ge Lian felt as if his heart were being tickled by the softest feather. An indescribable satisfaction and warmth instantly filled his chest.

He crept over until his tall form completely overshadowed An Yi, carrying the heat of recent exertion. An Yi seemed to sense it, stirring slightly, withdrawing his gaze from the window and lifting his eyes to look at him.

"Back?" An Yi's voice carried a lazy, husky note, as if just waking from an afternoon nap, still cool and clear, yet impossibly soft.

"Yeah."

Ge Lian replied, his Adam's apple bobbed unconsciously.

He sat down naturally beside the couch, his body leaning close to An Yi, and reached under the fox fur blanket with practiced ease, took hold of An Yi's hand, which was resting on his knee and slightly cool.

His palm was broad, rough, and scorching hot, calloused from years of wielding a weapon. He completely enveloped An Yi's slender, pale hand with elegant fingers, rubbing it gently, trying to warm that slight chill with his own body heat.

An Yi's fingertips shrank back, as if wanting to pull away, but Ge Lian held his hand even tighter.

He glanced at Ge Lian, his eyes holding no reproach, but rather a kind of resigned indulgence.

"Cold hands," he explained faintly, tacitly allowing this overly intimate gesture.

"Then why sit by the window?" Ge Lian's brows furrowed slightly, his tone filled with undisguised concern.

He simply reached over with his other hand, wrapping both hands around An Yi's, like a furnace ceaselessly transferring heat.

"The brazier is burning so hot, yet your hands are still cold. Tomorrow, I'll have the kitchen add some warming tonic soup to your diet."

An Yi allowed him to continue, his gaze returning to the book, but the corners of his lips curved up into a barely perceptible arc. "General Ge is starting to sound like an old nanny."

Stunned by this remark, Ge Lian stared wide-eyed at An Yi's cool expression as he teased him. His heart was both affectionate and tickled. Unable to resist, he lowered his head and gave a bite that was neither too light nor too heavy on the back of An Yi's cool, jade-like hand, leaving a faint tooth mark.

"Hiss—" An Yi winced in pain and finally fully looked up from the book, frowning. "What are you, a dog?"

"Wolf," Ge Lian replied triumphantly, raising an eyebrow and licking the faint tooth mark with his tongue—a gesture both ambiguous and domineering. "I specialize in biting you, this piece of ice that can't be thawed."

The tips of An Yi's ears grew warm. He tried to pull his hand back, but Ge Lian held it firmly.

He glared at Ge Lian, but in Ge Lian's eyes, that look had no force at all, merely tickling his heart like a feather.

Ge Lian let out a low laugh, then, pressing his luck, leaned down and rested his chin in the hollow of An Yi's shoulder. He took a deep breath, filling his nose with An Yi's clean, cold scent, mixed with the faint aroma of books and ink—a scent that made him peaceful yet stirred.

"What are you reading?" Ge Lian asked, his voice muffled, his warm breath falling upon An Yi's sensitive nape.

"Zhuangzi," An Yi replied, tilting his head slightly to avoid the unsettling heat of his breath.

"'The Joy of Untroubled Ease'? Or 'The Equality of Things'?" Ge Lian responded casually, his arm encircling An Yi's waist, pulling him more firmly into his embrace. Holding this warm, soft body, he felt more satisfied than winning a battle.

An Yi looked at him with slight surprise. "You know these?"

Ge Lian let out a snort, a hint of smugness in his voice. "What, you think only you, Grand Secretary An, can be learned? Don't I, General Ge, have the right to be cultured? In my youth, I was forced to read a few sages' books by the old master."

Though most of the time, it was to outwit the tutor, he still remembered some.

A genuine smile flickered in An Yi's eyes, like the first melt of ice.

"Then tell me," he said, "what is the meaning of 'When the spring dries up, the fish are stranded on land. They moisten each other with their slime, wet each other with their spit—but it's better to forget each other in the rivers and lakes'?"

Ge Lian answered without hesitation, his words flowing out: "Simple! It's like now: outside it's freezing cold, and we're here in this warm pavilion. I'm holding you to warm you, and your cold fragrance pleases me..."

He paused, tightened his arms, and buried his face in An Yi's neck. "Did I explain it right?"

An Yi was stunned.

What kind of ridiculous answer was that?

"Grand Secretary An, how does your subordinate's explanation rate? Any reward?" Ge Lian pressed, teasing.

An Yi turned his head, looking at Ge Lian's expectant face so close, his deep eyes shining brightly.

He suddenly felt a mischievous urge, pretending to ponder: "The explanation... is completely off the mark. Zero points."

Ge Lian's eyes widened in indignation, and he humphed discontentedly: "An Junheng!" He moved to tickle An Yi.

An Yi hated this the most. He immediately broke his composure, dodging while laughing softly: "Stop it... Ge Lian! The book... the book is going to fall!"

The soft couch was already none too spacious. As they wrestled, the Zhuangzi in An Yi's hand indeed slipped to the floor with a soft "thud."

Ge Lian seized the opportunity to press An Yi completely into the soft brocade cushions, bracing his hands on either side, trapping him in his presence.

Their eyes met, their breaths intertwined.

The warm pavilion fell silent, leaving only the soft bubbling of the wine on the small red clay stove, about to boil, and the gradually accelerating sound of each other's heartbeats.

Outside the window, snow fell without a sound. Inside, the lamp cast a dim, yellow light, projecting their closely entwined figures onto the wall, ambiguous and overlapped.

Ge Lian's gaze deepened, burning as it fell on An Yi's faintly flushed face, on those eyes now moist from laughter and teasing, brighter than ever, and finally resting on those slightly parted, pale lips.

"An Junheng..." His voice grew hoarse. "I was wrong earlier. It's not 'moisten each other with slime, wet each other with spit'..."

He slowly lowered his head, his warm lips almost touching An Yi's.

"It's... 'kiss each other with wetness.'"

The last word dissolved into the sudden meeting of their lips.

This kiss carried an extreme tenderness and reverence, gentle and deep, as if savoring the finest wine in the world.

An Yi trembled slightly, his long lashes falling like butterfly wings as he slowly closed his eyes. His tense body gradually relaxed, and he raised his free hand to gently grasp Ge Lian's solid arm.

The fox-fur blanket had long since slipped aside, moon-white soft silk entwined with black combat attire, so intertwined they were inseparable. Outside the warm pavilion lay a frozen winter stretching a thousand miles, yet within this small space, there was only a romantic spring atmosphere.

After a long moment, Ge Lian pulled back, panting slightly, his forehead resting against An Yi's, their noses brushing. He gazed at the faint blush at the corners of An Yi's eyes and the slightly swollen lips, a satisfied smile gleaming in his eyes.

"I'm fair with rewards and punishments, Grand Secretary An."

His voice was hoarse: "The penalty for a zero score... isn't over yet."

An Yi, his breath still uneven, glanced up at him sidelong. His eyes shimmered like rippling water, carrying a hint of afterglow, exuding a startling charm: "General Ge... is this going to be an interrogation under duress?"

"No." Ge Lian chuckled lowly, then kissed his lips again, murmuring indistinctly: "It's... feeding myself to the tiger."

Outside the window, the snow fell even more heavily, silently burying all the world's turmoil and clamor.

Inside the warm pavilion, beneath the red candles and warm curtains, there was only the lovers' whispers and lingering intimacy, lasting deep into the night.