In the book The Power of Ministers, the relationship between the original host and the male lead was one of mutual disdain. The male lead rarely set foot in the original host’s room, and unless necessary, he avoided appearing before her.

Song Luan never expected that, upon returning home, the male lead would head straight to her room. Honestly, she felt a little nervous about it.

Zhao Nanyu returned home, weary from his journey, and took a sip of water to clear his throat. He then made his way toward Zhao Zhiger’s room to check on him. Finding the front courtyard rooms empty, his expression darkened. “Where is Zhao Zhiger?”

The servant, trembling with fear, answered. “Madam took him to her room this evening.”

Zhao Nanyu’s expression grew even colder. He strode toward Huai Shui Residence, anger simmering beneath the surface, his eyes flickering with a sharp, dangerous light. That woman better not make things worse for herself.

Song Luan was still thinking about how to face him when the door was suddenly thrown open with a loud bang. She jumped in surprise and quickly sat up on the bed. Looking up, she saw the man standing before her, dressed in white. A jade pendant hung from his waist, and his belt was embroidered with cloud patterns, her gaze slowly rose to meet his face.

It was an exquisitely handsome face, as if his features had been carefully sculpted. His eyebrows and eyes were like a painting, and his peach blossom eyes seemed to hold clear water. His gaze, casual as it was, added an extra layer of charm.

His light-colored pupils gleamed with a faint glow, his gaze deep and mysterious. His fair skin, bathed in the flickering candlelight, illuminated his refined, elegant face, almost like a work of art.

Song Luan swallowed hard—he was truly too handsome.

Zhao Nanyu took his time looking around, then curved his lips into a faint smile and spoke gently. “Where is Zhao Zhiger?”

He always put on a charming, gentle demeanor as if he were a breath of spring, always pleasant and easygoing.

Song Luan felt nervous, stumbling over her words as she answered. “He’s… in the partition.”

Zhao Nanyu’s eyes narrowed slightly. It seemed to him that something was different about her today—she appeared softer, more composed, with a clearer gaze and a confused expression.

He raised an eyebrow, planning to ask the servants tomorrow about what had happened during his absence.

Song Luan grew more anxious as he remained silent. Though Zhao Nanyu was smiling pleasantly, his smile was more unsettling than reassuring. After all, in the dream that left a deep impression on her, Zhao Nanyu had smiled as he plunged a dagger into her heart, and just thinking about it was painful.

He was terrifying.

Zhao Nanyu continued to stare at her, as though he had discovered something amusing. This delicate, frail woman seemed to have a hint of fear on her face, almost as though she was scared of him.

Her teeth gently bit down on her crimson lips, her brow furrowed with anxiety, and her eyes shimmered with a faint moisture. For some reason, seeing her in this vulnerable state caused Zhao Nanyu’s gaze to darken.

“Zhao Zhiger is sleeping well in the partition, you don’t need to worry.”

Zhao Nanyu gave a soft hum of acknowledgment, his probing gaze shifting away. He didn’t ask why she suddenly seemed so attentive toward the child—he knew that from the moment Zhao Zhiger had been born, Song Luan had never cared for him.

She normally wouldn’t even want to touch him, so how could she possibly let the child sleep in the same room with her?

Zhao Nanyu usually took care of the child himself, which, in a way, was better—it spared Zhao Zhiger from suffering.

He sat down, picked up the teacup on the table, and took a small sip of the now-cold tea, showing no sign of minding. Then he instructed the maid waiting outside. “Go brew a bowl of soothing soup.”

“Yes.”

Just as Song Luan was about to say something, Zhao Nanyu smiled at her and said, “You’ve always had trouble sleeping at night. A bowl of soothing soup will be good for your health.” He put down his teacup and continued softly. “Your body has always been weak. After you drink the tonic, you should sleep better.”

At this point, she couldn’t bring herself to refuse.

Song Luan felt frustrated. Although she had read The Minister nearly cover to cover, the book gave very little detail about the original character’s relationship with the male lead. It didn’t describe their interactions or what life was like for her in the Zhao household.

It only briefly mentioned her wrongdoings and eventual fate.

Soon after, the maids brought in the prepared medicinal soup. The black liquid in the bowl emitted a strange odor, causing Song Luan to wrinkle her brow in distaste.

It smelled terrible. She didn’t want to drink it, not at all.

Zhao Nanyu noticed her hesitation. He personally took the bowl, holding the spoon handle and bringing it to her lips. When she froze, he raised an eyebrow, flashing a smile.

The smile was so captivating it almost made her lose her composure.

Under the flickering candlelight, his almost painting-like smile was too beautiful to break.

Song Luan absentmindedly opened her mouth, swallowing a spoonful of bitter medicine. Almost immediately, a thought flashed through her mind.

[Zhao Nanyu pinched her chin, forcing her mouth open, ruthlessly pouring the thick, black medicine into her. His lips curled into a cold smile, his hoarse voice like that of a vengeful spirit who had crawled out of hell. “Go die.”]

This was the only mention of poison in The Minister. Despite having read the original story, Song Luan had no idea when Zhao Nanyu began poisoning her, nor did she know where or what kind of poison he had used.

As Zhao Nanyu continued to feed her, he noticed the woman in front of him trembling. Her shoulders quivered lightly, and despite her evident fear, she obediently swallowed the medicine he gave her.

Song Luan shuddered, feeling colder with each passing moment. However, since the medicine had been brewed by a maid in her room, it was unlikely to be poisoned. With this thought, she slowly calmed down.

Her eyes wide and glistening with tears, she looked at him with a pitiful expression, her desire to survive greater than any need to maintain her facade. “I’m really obedient, really good,” she said.

So, big brother could you please spare me?

Zhao Nanyu paused for a moment, looking at the empty bowl before he smiled faintly. “Hmm, indeed very obedient.”

The medicine was bitter, but she drank it all without complaining without throwing a tantrum—remarkably well-behaved.

Her mouth was filled with bitterness, but she was too scared to even ask for a piece of candied fruit, afraid Zhao Nanyu might find her troublesome and remember the reckless things she had done in the past, growing even more disgusted with her.

She had made up her mind. She wasn’t planning to become the heroine, nor did she expect Zhao Nanyu to fall in love with her. Besides, having someone like him—who had such strong possessiveness and obsessive cleanliness—fall in love with her would be a nightmare.

Song Luan only hoped that Zhao Nanyu would spare her life, seeing her as obedient and good, without causing trouble. She definitely didn’t want to experience being burned alive, thank you very much!!!

She decided it was time to lay low and do good deeds. As long as the original host hadn’t betrayed him yet, and hadn’t ignored her feverish son in favor of meeting a lover, there was still time to make things right.

In the book, it was mentioned that Zhiger had a slightly lame leg. This was yet another one of the original host’s mistakes. In an attempt to warn her lover, she had pushed Zhiger away, and he had fallen down the stairs breaking his leg while running a high fever.

At that moment, the male lead must have wanted to tear the original host apart.

Fortunately, these things hadn’t happened before she arrived. Otherwise, she would have been tempted to hang herself with a rope.

Zhao Nanyu watched her drink the medicine, then stood up. “I’ll go check on Zhiger.”

Song Luan didn’t dare stop him, in fact, she wished he would hurry up and leave. When he disappeared behind the curtain, the weight in her heart finally lifted.

Zhiger was sleeping soundly. The little boy was surprisingly well-behaved in his sleep, not moving around or kicking off his blanket. Zhao Nanyu carefully checked his body, finding no injuries. The coldness in his eyes slowly faded.

He quietly stepped out from the partition and saw Song Luan still sitting by the bed, not asleep. Her thin inner garment was loosely draped over her, revealing a small patch of porcelain-white skin, her collarbone and chest faintly visible.

Zhao Nanyu silently observed for a moment, then turned his attention to the servants, giving orders. “Draw water, I want to bathe.”

“Understood.”

Song Luan was already feeling drowsy, but since Zhao Nanyu wasn’t asleep, she didn’t dare to go to bed first. She was a bit surprised, she hadn’t expected him to stay the night.

While Zhao Nanyu bathed behind the screen, Song Luan sat on the edge of the bed, lost in thought. She could hear the sound of water from the other side and felt increasingly uneasy. She was filled with dread, afraid something might happen tonight. The more she thought about it, the more anxious she became, so she decided to stop thinking altogether.

Instead, her mind wandered to the major events that had happened over the past year with Zhao Nanyu. It hadn’t been a good year for him. The emperor’s dislike of him was obvious making his position in the court increasingly difficult. Meanwhile, members of the Zhao family treated him with disdain often mocking him with cold sarcasm.

The Song family didn’t think highly of him either. When the original host visited her maternal family for the Dragon Boat Festival, her mother began to pressure her, suggesting she should take advantage of Zhao Nanyu’s wealth and treasures.

During the Mid-Autumn Festival, Zhao Nanyu had been sent to Huangzhou for a month. On his journey, a group of black-clad men targeted him, intending to end his life. Of course, as the male lead he didn’t die. Even though he was wounded with two puncture wounds, he was rescued.

The person who saved him was the legendary female lead. Song Luan wasn’t intending to take credit for the female lead’s actions. When the time came, she would remind Zhao Nanyu to be cautious on his journey—this way, she could still claim to have done a good deed.

As she was lost in thought, the man behind the screen emerged, dressed in his night robe. His hair was slightly damp, shining like the moon. Song Luan’s throat tightened as she gazed at his face, her mouth going dry as she swallowed repeatedly.

He did look quite alluring in this state with the soft moonlight shining on his shoulders. He asked. “Why aren’t you asleep yet?”

Zhao Nanyu had exceptional observation skills and a keen sense for details. From the moment he entered the room, he began to notice that something was off. Normally, Song Luan never waited for him to sleep before her.

Song Luan quickly removed her shoes and climbed into bed, pulling the covers up to her chin and leaving only her head exposed. She tried her best to remain calm and replied. “I was just about to sleep.”

Zhao Nanyu suddenly let out a soft laugh. His gaze shifted to her two delicate, white feet peeking out from under the blanket. He stepped forward and with his cold fingers, gently grasped her ankle. Song Luan’s body tensed up, and a cold sweat began to form on her back. Despite Zhao Nanyu appearing gentle on the surface, she could still feel the chilling aura emanating from him.

He held her ankle and carefully tucked her feet back into the blanket, offering a small smile. “Aren’t your feet cold?”

Song Luan averted her gaze, softly murmuring. “Thank you.”

Zhao Nanyu casually snipped the wick of the candle plunging the room into darkness. Only the faint, pure light of the moon filtered through the window as he lay down beside her.

Song Luan’s hands gripped the blanket tightly, her entire body tense.

Zhao Nanyu seemed to quietly chuckle, and then, with his long, slender fingers, he gently caressed her cheek. The touch was cool to the skin, and his voice dropped low and husky. “Go to sleep.”

Oh no, having the male lead sleep next to her was too stimulating.

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