My palace is full of female protagonists.

Zhao Chengyu's gaze was deep, as if he could see into people's hearts. He spoke slowly, his voice carrying a subtle tenderness and calculation: "Look, I've gone to such lengths to plan, using a country as a chessboard. The Gao family is merely an important pawn, easily manipulated by me to create turmoil. The Crown Prince is about to travel to Yunnan, a remote place far from the center of power. For him, it's both a training opportunity and a chance to inherit a great throne. In this way, the Second Prince naturally finds himself in the spotlight of the Crown Prince's position. When he..." When he was formally appointed Crown Prince, he already possessed a certain confidence and shrewdness, making those who secretly coveted the throne less of a threat. Gao Lingyan, from the very beginning, understood her mission; her extraordinary insight and decisiveness are precisely why we respect her. Even the Crown Prince spent many years growing up by your side, but now, it seems there's always an invisible veil between us. You've become increasingly distant from me. Every time I advise you not to personally serve me at night, you stubbornly refuse to listen.

Zhao Chengyu's words revealed a hint of helplessness and doting. He sighed softly, his gaze falling on Zhao Qi'er's slightly rough hands. Hearing this, Zhao Qi'er instinctively flung her hands away, looking down at the thick calluses on her palms, calloused from labor, a pang of sorrow rising in her heart. These calluses were testament to the countless times she had gripped a hoe and needle and thread, struggling against fate since the day she was exiled. The noble ladies in the capital were all pampered and spoiled, while she, even though she had never been idle at home, had never done such strenuous work. From her days of exile to her current position in the deep palace, these hands had witnessed too much hardship.

Zhao Qi'er forced a smile, her voice tinged with self-mockery: "These calluses are indeed much thinner than before, but... sometimes I still feel out of place here. I'm afraid my hands will never be as delicate as those of the noble ladies of the capital."

Upon hearing this, Zhao Chengyu's eyes flashed with tenderness. He gently held Zhao Qi'er's hands, his thumbs lightly stroking her palms, as if comforting a wounded child: "How could that be? To me, these calluses are a symbol of resilience and courage. They make me feel warm and make me cherish you even more. Later, I'll have someone find some exquisite jade artifacts, walnuts, and other playthings. You can rub them every day, and perhaps your hands will become as soft and smooth as a cat's belly."

Zhao Chengyu's words were like a spring breeze, dispelling some of the gloom in Zhao Qier's heart. She looked up and met Zhao Chengyu's deep eyes, a warm feeling welling up inside her. Perhaps, in this treacherous court struggle, only this heartfelt care and warmth was her most solid support.

Zhao Chengyu stood in the center of the palace, the flickering candlelight reflecting his complex expression. His gaze fell on the spot where Zhao Qi'er had just stood, where her scent still lingered, faint yet enough to stir his emotions even more. He didn't understand why he had uttered those comforting words; perhaps he simply didn't want to see the disappointment and pain in Zhao Qi'er's eyes—an emotion he knew all too well.

Zhao Qi'er's sudden embrace was like a sudden storm, rippling across his heart. Her body heat seeped through his clothes, a warm and real presence that made him forget his identity and the distance between them for a moment. But then, she vanished like a gust of wind, leaving behind only silence and an emptiness in Zhao Chengyu's heart.

He scratched his head, a gesture that revealed his helplessness and confusion. He was no stranger to the intrigue and backstabbing within the palace, no stranger to women who would stop at nothing for power and status. But Zhao Qi'er seemed different. Her eyes held a genuine affection for Zhao Yingqing, a pure and unadulterated fervor.

"Your Majesty, should we call the Empress back?" Xiao Kuangzi's voice interrupted Zhao Chengyu's thoughts.

Zhao Chengyu shook his head. He knew that what Zhao Qi'er needed was not his orders, but understanding and space. "Never mind," he said softly. "If she wants to come back, no one will stop her. Have someone keep an eye on her. If she wants to drink, find some people to keep her company. Don't let her brood alone."

Xiao Kuangzi accepted the order, his eyes revealing loyalty to Zhao Chengyu and sympathy for Zhao Qi'er. He knew that everyone in this palace had their own story and their own hardships. He turned and left to arrange everything, ensuring that Zhao Qi'er wouldn't be alone.

Zhao Chengyu remained alone in the palace, his gaze once again falling on the door where Zhao Qi'er had left.

The following morning, as the first rays of sunlight pierced through the clouds and gently caressed the eaves of the ancient palace, Zhao Chengyu stood in the courtyard, his gaze inadvertently drawn to a familiar figure. Yun Feiyu approached, carrying several newly made honeycomb briquettes, his face beaming with pride and anticipation. This time, the texture, color, and even the delicate distribution of the holes in the honeycomb briquettes almost perfectly matched the object from a distant era in Zhao Chengyu's memory, fulfilling his imagination and expectations almost exactly.

Zhao Chengyu took the honeycomb briquettes, a strange emotion welling up inside him, as if a bond across time connected the present with the past. He carefully lit the briquettes, and soon a warm, slightly smoky aroma began to fill the palace. This aroma was so familiar that Zhao Chengyu's mind involuntarily drifted away, back to the technologically advanced, information-saturated modern world, back to his carefree childhood, especially the days he spent at his grandmother's house every summer.

In his memory, his maternal grandparents' house was nestled in a quiet little town, surrounded by lush fields and a winding river. Every summer, under the blazing sun, the pace of life in the town seemed to slow down, and everything became leisurely and pleasant. Zhao Chengyu would always eagerly embark on this journey, because there he not only found his loving grandparents, but also the pure joy that was hard to find in the city.

Back then, he always loved to follow his grandfather to the fields, watching his grandfather skillfully till the land and listening to the summer symphony woven from the chirping of cicadas and the distant calls of cattle and sheep. In the evening, the whole family would sit together, brewing a pot of tea on a honeycomb briquette stove bought from the village. The aroma of the tea mingled with the warmth of the stove, dispelling the day's fatigue and warming everyone's hearts. At night, Zhao Chengyu would lie on a bamboo mat under the old locust tree, counting the countless stars and listening to his grandmother tell ancient and magical stories until drowsiness crept in, his dreams filled with sweet anticipation.

At this moment, the smell of coal smoke in the palace seemed to be a key, gently unlocking the floodgates of memory and causing ripples to spread across Zhao Chengyu's heart. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and tried to firmly engrave this warmth and tranquility from distant memories into his heart.

However, the officials in the court noticed something unusual: Emperor Zhao Chengyu was staring intently at the burning honeycomb briquettes, his eyes vacant and unfocused, as if drawn by some distant memory, completely immersed in his own world, and remained silent for a long time. Below the court, the ministers exchanged glances, not daring to breathe loudly, for fear of disturbing the emperor who was deep in thought.

After a long while, Zhao Chengyu turned around as if waking from a dream, and slowly returned to sit on the throne with his hands behind his back. His face was full of complex emotions, including nostalgia for the past and anxiety about the future. He sighed softly, his voice seemingly carrying a heavy weight, and then slowly said, "The officials who made the honeycomb briquettes will all be rewarded. Xiao Kuangzi, arrange for them to distribute the rewards to them immediately according to the rules."

As soon as he finished speaking, Xiao Kuangzi, who was standing nearby, quickly responded and prepared to step back to carry out the order. At this moment, Prime Minister Su stepped forward and respectfully reported, "Your Majesty, after late autumn, envoys from various countries will flock to the capital. The list of those requesting an audience with Your Majesty has been compiled, and I am presenting it to you here." As he spoke, he held up an exquisite scroll with both hands and handed it to Zhao Chengyu.

A palace servant stepped forward and carefully took the scroll from Prime Minister Su's hands, preparing to present it to the Emperor. Zhao Chengyu's heart stirred; he recalled the booklet about my country's relations with other countries that Gao Lingyan had specially compiled for him before her departure. He knew that this scroll and the booklet must be closely related, and he needed to study them carefully to make an wise decision. Therefore, he asked the palace servant to put the scroll aside for now, and he would examine it closely later.

After dealing with this matter, Zhao Chengyu's gaze fell on Prime Minister Su again, and he asked in a deep voice, "Prime Minister Su, now that we have incorporated the Southern Kingdom, the Lanling Kingdom should also be almost completely defeated. Under these circumstances, should we avoid receiving envoys from some countries?"

Upon hearing this, Prime Minister Su immediately bowed and replied solemnly, "Your Majesty is wise, and I had the same thought. In the middle of the scroll, I have placed a list of countries that we should avoid. These countries are very likely the masterminds behind Lanling Kingdom's desperate attempt to disrupt our dynasty's situation. I believe we should remain vigilant and handle these countries with caution."

Zhao Chengyu nodded slightly in agreement. He knew that handling international relations required both caution and decisiveness; the slightest misstep could trigger a chain reaction and even endanger the nation's security. He took a deep breath, his gaze becoming firm and profound: "Prime Minister Su, immediately order your men to strengthen security and closely monitor the movements of these countries. At the same time, I will personally study this scroll and booklet, ensuring that we know our enemy and ourselves, so that we may never be defeated."

Su Chenglian quickly agreed, expressing his determination to do his utmost and live up to the Emperor's expectations.

Meanwhile, Lin Yi, filled with anticipation and reverence for Duan Zhenghuai, the new ruler of Yunnan, set foot on this land full of mystery and the unknown. However, fate seemed to love playing tricks on him. He never expected that not only would he fail to meet this legendary wise monarch, but he would also almost be treated as a traitor.

It turned out that shortly after Lin Yi arrived in Yunnan, he was placed in several simple tents in the army camp outside the city, along with more than a hundred other suspected "spies." These tents were simple and dilapidated, a far cry from the magnificent palaces and warm hospitality that Lin Yi had imagined.

What frustrated him even more was that Duan Zhenghuai imposed strict isolation measures on these former spies. They were not only forbidden from moving around freely, but even the most basic communication was strictly restricted. The soldiers were explicitly ordered not to speak to them casually, and were only provided with the most basic food and shelter to ensure they did not starve or freeze to death. This treatment made Lin Yi feel unprecedentedly humiliated and isolated.

In this isolated world, Lin Yi unexpectedly discovered several familiar figures—they were his former colleagues from his time serving in Feng Kingdom. However, the years seemed to have erected an invisible wall between them. The trials of time and their different fates had made them strangers and distant. Although they had once shared common ideals and ambitions, now, none of them knew whether the other's stance still aligned with their own.

In this environment, their encounter brought little surprise or warmth. They merely nodded to each other perfunctorily, exchanged a greeting, and then returned to their respective corners without another word. Lin Yi looked at these former comrades-in-arms, his heart filled with mixed emotions. He knew all too well that in this environment rife with suspicion and hostility, any unnecessary words could become a fatal weapon. So, he chose silence, silently enduring this loneliness and helplessness.

It wasn't until the battlefield, amidst the raging flames of war, that Lin Yi had the opportunity to witness firsthand the charisma of Duan Zhenghuai, the new ruler of Feng Kingdom, from the towering city walls. Surprisingly, however, this legendary wise ruler remained silent, like a cold, indifferent statue, devoid of any expression or gesture. In stark contrast, Empress Gao Lingyan stood beside him, delivering a passionate and impassioned declaration before the battle. Her voice pierced through the smoke and fire, inspiring the morale of every soldier and igniting the flames of their hearts.

Lin Yi stood in the ranks, his gaze fixed on the two figures on the city wall. He had absolute confidence in his skills, but this sudden "test" filled him with displeasure. He felt that as a loyal official, he should be valued and trusted, not subjected to unwarranted suspicion and even treated as a potential enemy. However, faced with this unfortunate reality, he could only silently endure it, burying his discontent deep within his heart.

At the same time, Gao Lingyan immediately recognized Lin Yi in the crowd. As a former empress, she had a deep impression of these young officials, as they were the best she had chosen for Zhao Yingqing's ascension to the throne. Among them, Lin Yi, who was skilled in both literature and martial arts, impressed her even more. Initially, she hadn't directly made Lin Yi a military officer, but instead placed him among the civil officials, precisely because she worried that he would focus too much on martial arts and neglect the importance of civil administration, ultimately becoming a reckless brute who only knew how to fight.