Chapter 383: The Twenty-sixth Day in the Struggle for Supremacy World

Chapter 383: The Twenty-Sixth Day of Being Thrown Into a Hegemony Novel

An Yi is the bright moon above the nine heavens, the auspicious prodigy nurtured by the An clan and watched by all under heaven, the potential hegemon holding three provinces with the people's hearts turned toward him.

And he, Bai Ji, Bai Ruzhi—what is he?

A merchant's son, orphaned and living under someone else's roof, a man of no rank barred from advancement by birth, an opportunist who only gained entry into the counsels through a bit of cunning schemes and memories from a past life.

His appearance, his underhanded and covert arts of manipulating hearts—how paltry and... shameful they are compared to An Yi's righteous and majestic path of a true king.

And he is a man...

He is afraid.

Afraid that the feelings growing ever stronger in his eyes, nearly impossible to conceal, might be noticed by An Yi.

Afraid they would stain the clarity in An Yi's gaze, profane that godlike purity.

Even more afraid that An Yi would feel discomfort, disgust, or even... distance himself, driving him away from his side.

The mere thought of no longer being able to see An Yi every day like this—to hear his voice, to sense his presence, even just to watch from afar—makes Bai Ji's chest tighten until he can barely breathe.

The mere imagining is unbearable.

So he can only bury that maddening love, threatening to burst from his chest, deep in the darkest corner of his heart, wrapped in layer after layer.

Only in moments when no one notices, when An Yi is absorbed in other matters and has no attention to spare, does Bai Ji's gaze stealthily cling to An Yi's figure, lingering on it without restraint, again and again.

Memorizing his slender fingers as they hold the brush, his lashes thick as a fan when he reads with head bowed, his slightly furrowed brow when deep in thought, the corners of his lips, always curved with a warmth like a spring breeze—and even that elegant line of his neck when he occasionally relaxes his shoulders from fatigue...

Comments section:

"I thought I was reading a romance novel, then suddenly several chapters of the male lead's inner monologue caught me off guard."

"The male lead actually has an inferiority complex, feeling he's not worthy of An Yi—he's the male lead! F*ck! But mainly because it makes sense, which makes it even more painful."

"Is this plot going off the rails or what? The earlier parts about conquering Puzhou and destroying Ke Quan were so satisfying—why suddenly this mopey, drawn-out psychological drama? Bai Ji is a strategist; instead of thinking about helping the Lord pacify the realm, he's just 'he's so pretty, he's so pretty' all day. Is this a f*cking male-oriented conquest novel or a BL romance drama? Author, snap out of it!"

"The author is already hopelessly addicted to the romance between two men. And here I was praising him earlier for keeping the romance light—I even gave a thumbs up!"

"The person above doesn't get it—don't talk out of your ass. Bai Ji's inferiority complex and burning secret love are written too realistically. In ancient times, being from a merchant family and a man of no rank, he would naturally feel inferior before An Yi, who comes from a prestigious clan. What he admires isn't just An Yi's appearance, but that perfection and divinity he can never hope to reach. His greatest fear isn't being discovered, but that his own filth would stain that purity. Reeling back isn't rejection—it's the instinct to protect himself; he's afraid he won't be able to stop himself from dropping to his knees and kissing that hand. (lights a cigarette.jpg)"

"The person above should go write one of those angsty, tangled romance novels—'one step forward is approaching you, one step back is protecting you.' (roguish smirk.jpg)"

"Can I say something? You guys are being a bit cringe."

"Gag me, I really can't read this anymore. Two grown-ass men, making goo-goo eyes and getting all flustered at each other. Bai Ji, can you get your act together? Either confess to the Lord—if it works, great; if not, get back to work—or put those feelings away and focus on your career. All this inner drama every day, and An Yi too: either clearly reject him or just take him as a male favorite. This wishy-washy ambiguity is the worst. This is a fight for the realm, not a romantic drama! Acting like a f*cking idiot!"

"The person above, are you sick? You talk like a real piece of sh*t!"

"Don't like it? Then don't read it! No one's forcing you to follow the romance line! Isn't there enough war and governance content before this? What's wrong with a little character psychology and relationship development now? Don't characters need to be well-rounded?"

"Pfft, straight guys just don't get it. Bai Ji's hesitation and inferiority are too real. Falling in love with someone who seems within reach but is actually unreachable—and your own lord at that—that feeling of treading on thin ice, terrified that one misstep would send everything crashing down. This is exactly the kind of stuff I love!"

"Barf barf barf~ I only care whether the development of the three provinces will be affected. What if Bai Ji has a mental breakdown over relationship issues and affects his work? He's currently responsible for a lot of internal cleansing and intelligence work—he can't afford any slip-ups. The Lord better handle this quickly, either reassure him or transfer him. Letting emotions cloud your judgment is the biggest taboo in the fight for dominance!"

"Barf-bro, you! Okay, now I'm convinced—you really are a straight guy!"

"?? I always was!!"

"..."

An Yi's brush hand paused slightly. Is that so?

----------

Winter turned to spring, and An Yi's consolidation and governance of the three provinces continued to advance at a steady pace.

An Yi distributed power and delegated duties, establishing a simple and effective administrative structure.

Dou Chuang had overall charge of civil administration and legal matters, while generals like Mao Hua and An Shu handled military training and border defense. Han Fu held down the rear, coordinating logistics and conscription. Bai Ji, along with several promoted capable officials, was responsible for implementing specific policies, compiling and analyzing intelligence, and handling certain special affairs.

The newly arrived each had their roles assigned.

As for An Yi himself, he had become much more relaxed. With the main framework already erected, he was no longer as busy as before.

Now he only needed to grasp the overall direction, mediate disputes among the various factions, and make his moves at critical points.

Further improvements were made to the transportation and post roads across the three provinces. He began laying the groundwork for a systematic network of official academies and talent selection. He encouraged artisans to improve their techniques, especially in military and agricultural fields—these efforts gradually permeated every aspect of the three provinces' construction.

Militarily, the thirty-five thousand household troops, through successive campaigns and the absorption of the fittest among surrendered troops, had expanded to over one hundred thousand, with equipment and training never allowed to slacken.

An Yi did not blindly expand the army but emphasized a policy of quality over quantity, rigorous training, and established a preliminary officer cultivation system.

A standing army of one hundred thousand, combined with military farming garrisons and local law enforcement forces across the regions, was more than enough to ensure internal stability in the three provinces and project a powerful deterrent to neighboring regions.

Economic livelihood was the top priority of An Yi's governance.

New farming tools and irrigation techniques were widely promoted across the three provinces. Other prefectures were quietly copying them on the sly, but An Yi, with his base now firmly established, didn't care—let them learn; it would mean more people surviving.

The growth of last winter's wheat and this spring's rice gave the people of Puzhou and Zhaozhou—who had endured war and Ke Quan's tyranny—their first real taste of hope.

In commerce, An Yi overhauled customs and toll collection at the passes, cracked down on highway bandits and domineering local powers, protected lawful merchants and travelers, and actively developed trade with neighboring powers using Tongzhou's salt wells and high-end handicrafts.

These measures, like spring rain, continued to nourish the land of the three provinces.

Though the time was short and many policies had yet to show full results, a new vitality—so different from the previous lifelessness and chaos—had already begun to take root.

The worry on the people's faces had lessened somewhat, and life in the markets and streets was gradually returning to normal.

Of course, not everything went smoothly.

In the newly submitted territories, old powers refused to accept the loss of their authority, secretly colluding and forming alliances—spreading rumors, dragging their feet, or even colluding with outside forces.

Among the local strongmen, some tried to keep lording it over the people and bleeding them dry under the new order.

Toward these, An Yi was no longer taking the soft approach.

With his base secured, he could simply have them killed outright!

Making an example of one to warn the rest—that's all it is.

As for the rest of the restless ones, he would deal with them one by one.