Trust me, it’s absolutely certain.

Taking a few steps closer, he finally saw clearly the man seated before him.

The man on the seat was an uncle with a sturdy, square face, his sharp violet eyes hidden beneath the typical short black hair of the Silver Nation. Unlike the pure chill in Huanluo’s gaze, this man’s look was even more dangerous, as if he could easily pierce right through one’s heart. The wrinkles at the corners of his eyes betrayed his age, yet that was the only sign—his muscular build and the overwhelming aura of strength emanating from him made his presence almost daunting.

The uncle, who was being scrutinized so closely, did not speak. He merely fixed his sharp gaze on the two newcomers, examining them for a long time, as if he intended to stare their entire family history out of them.

It was Lance who finally broke the unsettling silence. After a long pause, as if suddenly remembering the need for an introduction, he gave a slight bow and said, “My name is Lance. May I ask, sir, why you have summoned us here?”

“My name is—” the other began, but startled by Lance’s self-introduction, quickly added his own name, forgetting all about formal etiquette in his haste.

Embarrassed, he lowered his head, completely forgetting the name they had been told before was “Fitz and Victor.”

The man on the seat didn’t seem to mind. He let out a low chuckle and looked toward Lance. “You’re not Liang Yin?”

“Liang Yin is occupied. I’m the substitute,” Lance replied with a gentle smile.

This oddly familiar yet bizarre conversation echoed in his mind, and as the thoughts spun, a sudden realization dawned on him. “Then… are you Li Yi?!”

The uncle’s smile faded as he nodded in confirmation.

Lance stood calmly to the side, as though he had known this all along.

He felt as if a thousand wild horses were stampeding through his mind.

“So, did you already know we were coming, or did you also know we’d be bringing a message from Huanluo?” he asked, lines of exasperation etching his face. If Li Yi had known who they were from the start, then all their efforts to sneak into the Marshal’s Mansion had been nothing but a joke…

“All just speculation. If my guess had been wrong, would you still be enjoying such fine candlelight now?” Li Yi replied, his expression serious.

Lance gestured for him to deliver Huanluo’s message. Still looking exasperated, he approached, nodded, and whispered a few words into Li Yi’s ear.

Lance watched, surprised, as Li Yi’s face shifted from calm to stunned, then to a faint, awkward blush. Finally, with a look of satisfaction, he left Li Yi’s side and relaxed into a chair, as if to say, “I’m one of your own.” Li Yi cleared his throat, a little embarrassed, and looked at him, but he simply waved his hand nonchalantly. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep it a secret.”

Li Yi regained his composure. Looking at him, he asked, “How is Xiao Luo these days?”

“If your reinforcements arrive in time, they should be fine,” he decided it was best not to falsify the situation.

“A battle has started?” Li Yi’s brows knit, and the atmosphere around him grew instantly tense.

“When we left Eicasia, nothing had begun,” Lance added, though he couldn’t guarantee nothing had happened since.

“A Kui and Xiao Luo mentioned your selfless aid to Eicasia many times in their letters. Allow me to thank you both on their behalf,” Li Yi said solemnly, suddenly standing and bowing deeply. “To ask you to help with such internal affairs is truly my own failing as a leader.”

“There’s no use saying that now,” he replied, standing and inviting Li Yi to sit again. “Marshal, you must know why we’ve come to see you?”

“I know you want more information, but I only know some of the story,” Li Yi replied, no longer insisting on a bow. He gazed into the candlelight on the table, his expression reflective.

As the current head of the Li family, Li Yi had not only preserved the family’s reputation but had made it even more renowned—veteran of two reigns, covered in military glory, his fame so great it was said to quiet even crying children.

Yet history has shown time and again that too much merit can make the throne uneasy.

Of course, the King of the White Tower was well aware of Li Yi’s reputation, but had long concealed his intentions. Firstly: he could not win in a direct fight; secondly: he had no grounds to do so.

Li Yi was an upright and incorruptible official, yet shrewd as well. It is said that it is harder to be a clean official than a corrupt one, for one must both navigate the murky waters of court and keep oneself unsullied, blending in with colleagues while avoiding being ostracized. Yet Li Yi excelled at just that, leaving no handle for others to grab.

One can only imagine how many bewildered fingernails the poor king must have chewed down in frustration. In court, only the Prime Minister rivaled Li Yi’s position, making the triangle of power a constant headache for the king.

But recently, the king’s behavior had become strange. Two months ago, the king—never fond of Li Yi—suddenly began to warm to him. Not only did he smile more, but he heaped praises upon Li Yi in court and even bestowed upon his daughter Huanluo the Dragon’s Tooth Sword, a symbol of authority that had long been kept in the palace. He even issued a false “cultural ambassador invitation” specifically for Huanluo.

Li Yi assumed it was a response to some major maneuver by the Prime Minister and accepted the king’s favor without betraying his thoughts. At the king’s request, he increased palace security, sealing the palace tightly.

Yet despite such caution, disaster struck. Two weeks ago, the usually healthy king suddenly claimed illness, and all the guards stationed at the palace lost contact with Li Yi—vanished as if into thin air. Sensing something amiss, Li Yi prepared to enter the palace, but suddenly felt weak. His servant, coming to support him, also collapsed. Then, the sounds of weapons clashing came from outside. Li Yi could only bitterly smile—after a lifetime of campaigns, he had fallen victim to such a minor scheme.

Soon, the Prime Minister’s confidants arrived to clean up. All Li Yi’s familiar companions were taken away, and the Marshal’s Mansion was filled inside and out with strangers patrolling ceaselessly. Realizing escape was impossible, Li Yi could only remain passively in the mansion.

Once convinced he was no longer a threat, the Prime Minister’s men left, assigning a single guard to watch him. As luck would have it, this guard was an agent Li Yi himself had planted in the Prime Minister’s household in his younger days. Now transferred over, the man not only brought a trustworthy subordinate (the one who led them in) but also shared news from outside, such as the king and palace having fallen under the Prime Minister’s control. Unfortunately, as a minor official, his knowledge was limited. Yet one day, he brought good news.

A cultural ambassador from Kyrenia was due to visit the king. But Li Yi knew full well that Kyrenia had sent no such envoy—the order was nothing but a false document from Bradrica to extricate Huanluo. The only explanation was clear—his wife and daughter had sent people to the capital at last.