The Empress's No.1 Lackey

As such, the original protagonist had the audacity to be so wild: With the status of a female emperor, if it wasn't tacitly permitted, how could she allow the public to gossip and tarnish her reputation?

Therefore, the male lead always believed that the reason the Empress had not yet permitted him to attend her bedchambers was, firstly, due to being busy with state affairs, and secondly, to assess him.

This was also the motive behind his eagerness to achieve merit, attempting to flaunt himself and ascend to the Empress's chambers early.

However, Zhao Douan, having his soul transported here, viewed this situation from his perspective and keenly sensed something strange:

"This isn't right! There's something odd about this..."

He always felt that it wasn't that simple.

But for the moment, he couldn't figure out the details, and after shaking his head, he exhaled and laughed at himself:

"It has its advantages, at least it's not easy to expose."

If the two had indeed had any intimacy, the female emperor would surely have noticed that he was not "Zhao Douan."

In this way, it was somewhat better.

But how to break the predicament?

At this moment, the carriage suddenly decelerated, and the coachman's voice came through: "My lord, we're entering the Imperial City!"

He could only adapt to circumstances... Zhao Douan cut off his train of thought, resuming a calm demeanor, retrieved the token from his waist, threw it out of the carriage, and said to the imperial guard at the gate:

"I have important matters to report to the Saint, let me through quickly!"

...

...

The Imperial Palace consisted of two nested cities. The carriage entered the Imperial City but couldn't proceed past the palace gates.

Zhao Douan had to disembark and follow a little eunuch on foot towards the "Yangxin Hall" where the Saint resided.

Before long, from the end of the corridor upheld by red lacquered wooden pillars, emerged a group of palace attendants.

"Stop there," an elderly palace maid halted the two:

"Your Majesty is discussing state affairs with the Prime Minister, no idle people allowed."

Zhao Douan instantly felt a weight lift off his shoulders, a relief akin to an exam postponement, and he promptly mimicked the original protagonist's tone, smiling at the guiding eunuch:

"In that case, you may proceed with your duties, I shall wait here."

In his memory, the original protagonist, though arrogant, always knew whom to compliment with politeness.

He was always courteous to those closely attended in the palace.

After sending off the little eunuch, Zhao Douan leaned against the corridor.

Leftover rainwater slid off the roof tiles, and under the sunlight, it cast dazzling golden lines on the ground.

He suddenly lowered his head, quickly sifting through memories about the "Prime Minister" in his mind.

Past experience taught him that any trivial matters related to leadership might harbor critical information. At this moment, as though drowning, he had to seize every chance to cross this tribulation.

It wasn't long before he found the information he needed:

The prime minister of Great Yu, Li Yanfu, was the foremost power minister during the late Emperor's reign, once the chief of the cabinet, and wielded influence throughout the court, known for being sinister and cunning.

After the Empress ascended the throne, she disbanded the cabinet to strengthen imperial authority. Li Yanfu experienced a significant setback but remained the de facto "imperial prime minister," also the leader of the "Li Party" mainly consisting of the Jiangnan gentry.

Having controlled the temple for many years, his influence had become deeply entrenched.

Alongside the "Qingliu Party," led by Imperial Censor Yuann Li of the Imperial Court of Supervision, they served as the two great counterbalancing forces in today's imperial court.

In later generations, they were figures one could only hear about during the top-of-the-hour news broadcasts...

Zhao Douan felt a fleeting sense of unreality, like an ant stepping into a tiger's domain.

He took a deep breath, raised his gaze, and gestured to the elderly palace maid, suggesting they speak aside.

"Lord Zhao, do you have a matter to discuss?"

The elderly palace maid was not unfamiliar with him. After taking a few steps away, she asked indifferently.

Zhao Douan smiled and said:

"No significant matters, only curious as to why the Prime Minister was in such a hurry. The rain stopped just a short while ago, yet he entered the palace. Could it be that something major happened?"

The elder palace maid glanced at him: "How could we servants know?"

Smoothly, Zhao Douan drew out a scroll of silver notes from his sleeve and handed it to her:

"Sister, just choose what can be said and give me a hint or two."

The elder palace maid looked at him with surprise. Suddenly, she smiled and said:

"It's not a secret matter; with Lord Zhao's connections, just a little probing would reveal it... Does Lord Zhao know about Huai River's conversion from rice to mulberry?"

He didn't know... Zhao Douan remained expressionless. The original protagonist was such a fool that his understanding of court affairs was limited to who could be bullied and who couldn't be provoked, knowing nothing about official matters.

Good-for-nothing.

"I beseech sister's guidance," Zhao Douan humbly inquired for knowledge.

Reluctantly, the palace maid explained simply that during the reign of the late Emperor, the National Treasury was already depleted. After the regime change, the Empress inherited a significant deficit.

To alleviate the financial strain, Li Yanfu's faction vigorously promoted turning some rice fields in the Huai River area of Jiangnan into mulberry fields to boost the silk trade. However, in their haste, some fields were damaged, nearly sparking a civil revolt.

"Upon learning this, Her Majesty was furious. For these past days, the court officials have been arguing over this matter. The Prime Minister entering the palace today might mean he found a solution."

After saying this, the palace maid turned and returned to her place.

Zhao Douan's heart stirred, knowing she wouldn't say any more, so he remained silent and waited with his head bowed.

...

The palace was resplendent with flowers, yet the atmosphere was undeniably tense.

Just as Zhao Douan's legs began to ache, the tightly closed doors at the end of the corridor opened.

Subsequently, an elder clad in a scarlet official robe, wearing a black gauze cap, with hair like bristled porcupine skin and brows like dark stone ridges, with a fierce countenance, strode forth.

Palace attendants lined up on both sides to make way.

Zhao Douan stood aside in the corridor, bowing in salute: "Prime Minister, take care."

The extremely dignified elder did not even glance sideways, as if he did not see him at all, and strode away.

Around him, some in the palace laughed in secret; the entire Capital knew that in the true circle of aristocracy, someone like Zhao Douan, who relied on his looks to serve others, was scorned and mocked deeply.

To the high-standing Prime Minister, sparing him a glance was considered beneath him.

The Empress's gigolo?

Seemingly glorious, but in the eyes of real influential figures, he was regarded lower than an Oiran selling smiles in a brothel. Even common people, while outwardly respectful, would secretly spit in disdain.