Chapter 23: Into a Political Intrigue Novel, Day 1

Chapter 23: The First Day of Entering a Political Intrigue Novel

The early spring chill clung among the palace walls, the last vestiges of winter's authority still holding sway, turning into biting gusts of wind that swept across the long, bluestone paths of the palace.

The guards by the walls tucked their heads down, their breath instantly vanishing in the cold air.

As the palace gates opened, officials in various court robes filed out, gathering in twos and threes before dispersing again.

Officials' boots echoed dully on the stone slabs, occasionally broken by restrained greetings and the rustling of fabric as they bowed with clasped hands.

Suddenly, steady, unhurried footsteps approached from afar. A figure emerged from the center of the palace gate, dressed in the crimson crane-patterned robe of a second-rank civil official, a jade belt cinched at his waist accentuating his slim, upright stature, like a solitary pine tree.

Beneath the black gauze hat were remarkably youthful and handsome features: brows as if painted, a high nose bridge, thin lips slightly pursed, skin pale from long confinement indoors, yet lacking any frail scholar's air—instead, in his striking beauty, there was an unapproachable, austere dignity.

He swept his gaze calmly over the crowd that parted before him, his eyes deep and gentle, yet carrying an inexplicable pressure that made one's heart tighten.

He did not glance much at the officials bowing and stepping aside on both sides, walking with measured steps to his own carriage.

An Ping, the coachman in a green-gray robe who had been waiting nearby, immediately stepped forward and offered his right arm with utmost respect.

The slender, fair, well-proportioned hand lightly rested on the coachman's brawny arm. He nodded slightly, and with An Ping's careful support, gracefully boarded the carriage, the hem of his crimson robe tracing a sharp arc in the air before disappearing into the carriage.

From beginning to end, he did not utter a single word.

Only when the curtain fell did a few lower-ranking officials, who had been pushed to the edge, dare to straighten up slightly. They couldn't help but stand on tiptoe, craning their necks to peer at the still-luxurious carriage, their ivory tablets of office unconsciously clutched in their hands, now moist with sweat.

Inside the carriage, however, it was a different world.

The warm air was filled with a pure, lingering incense fragrance, its wispy threads soothing the soul.

An Yi, a young high official who should have been brimming with ambition, now leaned back on the soft brocade cushions, his eyes closed, his thin lips pressed into a hard, straight line.

The crimson official robe made his already pale skin look even paler.

An Yi opened his eyes and let out a deep sigh.

Three days ago, he had woken up groggy in the morning, his mouth dry, craving a drink of warm water.

Too lazy to move, he lay in bed and groggily called out for Shao Xiuya.

Yet after calling for a long while, he heard no response.

That familiar figure, the warmth of his body, the gentle replies... nothing.

He had initially thought Shao Xiuya wasn't in the room and hadn't heard him, so he had no choice but to force open his heavy eyelids, preparing to get up himself.

But unexpectedly, when he opened his eyes, he found himself in a room furnished in antique style.

What greeted his eyes was a completely unfamiliar scene—a carved canopy bed, hanging cloud-brocade curtains, ancient, rustic red sandalwood furniture...

It startled him so much that, in a flash, he leaped out of bed with remarkable agility!

His movements were light, his body without any hesitation, completely unlike what an old man like him should have been capable of!

He immediately checked his body, finding that he seemed to have returned to his youth.

The last time he had experienced something like this was over sixty years ago.

Over sixty years ago! At that time, he had woken up to find himself in a different body, sitting in a speeding car!

Now, as he was old and frail, his soul about to depart, had he crossed over again?

This time... into ancient times?

An Yi smiled bitterly. Shao Xiuya...

That beloved who had accompanied him through over sixty years of storms and hardships, growing old together.

He hoped that when Shao Xiuya got up and found the one beside him had stopped breathing, he wouldn't be too frightened.

After all, they were both so old! And he shouldn't be too sad either. Sixty years of loving companionship had been a supreme blessing in life. It was just... this parting had come too suddenly...

Originally, the two had agreed to get up and take a walk together the next day...

Shao Xiuya...

An Yi let out a long, silent sigh, forcing himself to tear himself away from his longing.

His slender fingers unconsciously rubbed the smooth, cool sleeve of his crimson official robe, trying to grasp some sense of reality.

Forget it. Since I'm here, I'll make the best of it.

To return from the brink of death to the prime of youth—that itself was a miraculous reversal that many sought but never attained!

In this dynasty called the Great Yin, he was still called An Yi.

His status was prominent yet lonely—his parents had died early, his family dwindled, leaving only him as the sole descendant.

Luckily, his family was wealthy, and the original owner was an unparalleled scholarly talent, who, passing exam after exam, had achieved the legendary feat of "six consecutive first-place finishes in the imperial examinations"!

Even more fortunate, he was favored by the current Chief Grand Secretary, Duan Mingde, who took him as his last disciple.

From then on, his official career flourished; by the age of not yet thirty, he had already attained the position of Chancellor, with the additional title of Grand Tutor of the Crown Prince, the pinnacle of officialdom.

But... An Yi's expression crumpled.

Court politics? Could he really navigate this treacherous, turbulent power vortex?

Even with the original owner's memories, understanding these interpersonal relationships was far more complicated than in the modern era.

Those tangled, interconnected official relationships that would cause chaos if a single thread were pulled, the implied meanings and hidden daggers behind smiles—were far more profound and abstruse than the complex business mergers and acquisitions he had handled in his previous life!

Moreover, the ancient people believed in spirits and ghosts. He couldn't reveal himself too much or differ too much from the original owner. If someone became suspicious because of how much he had changed, what if they accused him of being possessed?

He wouldn't be burned at the stake, would he?!

Damn it!

Just then, the smoothly moving carriage jolted violently!

The huge force of inertia caught him off guard, his body uncontrollably lunging forward, and he fell straight off the cushion.

Outside the carriage, the coachman An Ping let out a short, harsh shout: "Who is it?! How dare you block the Chancellor's carriage!"

The clamor was strangled, abruptly fell silent.

An Yi did not even hear the sound of any weapon being drawn from its scabbard—his guards would never have been completely unresponsive when someone rammed the carriage.

The next moment, An Ping's voice rang out again, but it had shifted abruptly, filled with disbelief and hesitation, and his volume dropped considerably: "...Young... Young Marquis Ge? You... what is the meaning of this? Please... please stop!"

An Yi was just rubbing his sore backside, steadying himself, his long fingers instinctively pressing against the book box beside him.

Before he could even settle into his seat, the heavy wooden carriage door was yanked open from the outside with almost brutal force—bang!

The cold, dusty wind rushed into the warm, fragrant cabin, sweeping away the lingering incense inside, and stirring the hem of An Yi's crimson official robe and the stray strands of hair at his forehead.

An Yi frowned, suppressing his sudden displeasure and surprise, and looked up.

Through the open doorway, the first thing he saw was not a person, but a magnificent horse, pitch-black like a roll of satin. Its saddle was ornate, and the metal inlays on its bridle glinted coldly in the setting sun.

The horse had clearly been galloping at full speed; it now stomped restlessly, its massive head nearly poking into the carriage, snorting thick, hot white steam from its nostrils, carrying a wild, restless energy that almost hit An Yi's face.