This night was destined to be an extraordinary one.

Fan Xian had a bout of poetic madness, the great master Zhuang Mohan made a disheartened exit, and His Majesty made it clear he wanted to cultivate the eldest son of the Fan family. The Crown Prince's position was secure. There was so much information from tonight that whether it was the mission from Dongyi City or the ministers of various departments, they all returned to their residences to discuss everything they had witnessed with their aides or colleagues. However, what shocked everyone and was discussed the most was, of course, Assistant Secretary of the Court of Imperial Sacrifices, Fan Xian's performance in the palace hall tonight.

The final consensus was that Lord Fan was truly a poetry immortal.

Some people suspected that Fan Xian had been writing these poems for years, and then unleashed them all in one night. After all, these poems had different settings and emotions. To say that he could wander through such drastically different and intensely emotional states in one night and create them naturally, the poet himself would probably go mad.

But no matter which it was, everyone still believed that Fan Xian was no ordinary person. Nonsense, what ordinary person could pull out so many good poems like cabbages? Even if you weren't afraid of getting tired, you'd still have to be able to grow them.

In short, all the beautiful, impassioned, or somber literary masterpieces from that world similar to the Qing Kingdom's world, were released through Fan Xian's mouth, either reluctantly or willingly, and from then on, became an inseparable part of this world's spirit.

Those who found some allusions and points in the poems unclear all assumed that Lord Fan was slurring after drinking too much and planned to ask him for clarification after he sobered up. As for whether Fan Xian would be forced to write a comprehensive alternate history of China or all four classic novels in order to cover up his lies, or whether he would resolutely castrate himself to avoid trouble, that was a story for another day.

----------------------------------------------------------------

On the carriage back to the Fan residence, Fan Xian was still sound asleep. Later, some busybodies calculated that, regardless of how many poems he wrote that night at the palace banquet, he had drunk a full nine pounds of imperial wine. So, while his poems were destined to intoxicate many scholars in the world, he himself was already drunk unconscious.

He was carried out of the palace from under His Majesty's feet by eunuchs, reeking of alcohol and full of unspoken complaints. It was thanks to this that he didn't faint under the gazes of those who were looking at a deity.

Once he was on the Fan residence's carriage, the palace eunuchs carefully instructed the servants of the Fan residence to take good care of their master. The elder statesmen had all spoken, saying that this lord's head was the Qing Kingdom's treasure and couldn't be jostled.

When the carriage arrived at the Fan residence, everyone who had connections in the Fan family already knew that their young master had greatly distinguished himself in the palace hall, and had slapped Zhuang Mohan in the face. The entire household felt honored. The close attendants cheerfully carried him down from the carriage, and Liu Shi personally cleared the way to bring him to his bedroom, then personally went to the kitchen to cook sobering soup. Fan Ruoruo, worried that the maids wouldn't be careful enough, carefully wrung out a towel and moistened his somewhat dry lips.

Awakened by the commotion, Fan Sizhe rubbed his sore eyes and looked at his unconscious brother with both jealousy and admiration. Si Nan Earl Fan Jian held a pen and smiled in his study, looking old and comforted. Even the servants who didn't understand literature could read those four words on the master's face. He wondered what he should write in his memorial to His Majesty. He estimated that His Majesty shouldn't be surprised by what happened to Fan Xian, after all, he was the child of a Celestial Being.

The night deepened, and after a period of excitement, everyone gradually dispersed, not daring to disturb Fan Xian's drunken sleep. At this moment, he suddenly opened his eyes and said to his sister who was guarding the bedside, "In the belt, the light green pill."

Ruoruo saw that he was awake and quickly reached into his belt to find the pill, carefully feeding it to him.

Fan Xian closed his eyes for a long time, slowly circulating his true energy. He found that the sobering pill was indeed miraculous. There was no discomfort in his chest and abdomen, and no drunkenness in his brain. Of course, he wasn't truly drunk. Otherwise, when he was "reciting" poems in the palace hall, if he had accidentally recited the original authors, that would have been truly spectacular.

"I'm worried that someone will come to see me in the middle of the night, after all, my current state should be drunken and unconscious." Fan Xian frowned as he put on his night clothes with his sister's help. His eyes were clear. In fact, he wasn't as drunk as he appeared to be in the palace earlier.

"It shouldn't happen. I've ordered that I'll personally take care of you tonight." Fan Ruoruo knew what he was going to do and couldn't help but worry.

"Liu Shi..." Fan Xian frowned, "Will she come to take care of me?"

"I'll be here watching. No one should come in." Fan Ruoruo looked at his eyes worriedly and said in a low voice, "But brother, you better hurry."

Fan Xian touched the dagger in the sole of his boot, the three thin needles in his hair, and the pills in his waist. After confirming that his equipment was complete, he nodded, "I'll be as quick as possible."

Rounding from the back of the Fan residence to the mansion preparing for the wedding, he was now dressed in night clothes. It was extremely difficult to be discovered under the cover of darkness. Only the flow of black light brought by the rapid movement of his body when he moved would give rise to some ghostly feeling. He crawled out from under the prepared courtyard wall where a carriage was parked.

Fan Xian's eyebrows, exposed outside the black cloth, furrowed slightly. Although there was no curfew in the capital, the management of the streets at night was still strict. The Patrol Division was severely reorganized after the Niulan Street incident, so now it was particularly vigilant. Therefore, he temporarily gave up the idea of using a carriage and with a shake of his body, he circulated his true energy throughout his body and immediately accelerated, disappearing into the dark night of Kyoto.

The Fan residence was not far from the palace. Before long, Fan Xian had reached the western foot of the imperial city wall. This was where the palace servants and the inner city intersected. It was usually a bit lively, but now that it was night, it had become quiet. Taking advantage of the cover of the low trees, he half-crouched and darted to the side of the Jade Belt River. His left hand hooked onto the stone railing of the riverbank, and his whole body moved forward like a koala.

The lights ahead were a bit bright, but the river was very dark. Fan Xian didn't dare to be careless. Relying on the constant flow of domineering true energy in his body, he half-closed his breath and carefully moved his body.

He didn't know how long passed, but he finally bypassed two arched bridges and came to a quiet grove on the side of the palace. Fan Xian relaxed slightly and opened his mouth to breathe quickly, feeling his body gradually become excited. It seemed that this kind of dangerous activity made him enjoy himself very much.

The palace wall next to this grove was a full five *zhang* high, and the wall was smooth without any place to hold on. The world's martial arts masters couldn't leap over it. Of course, for the few who had reached the Grandmaster level, whether this high wall could work still needed to be tested in practice.

Fan Xian was not one of the Four Grandmasters, but he had some other methods. The vermilion wall looked somewhat blue in the dark night. He, like a shadow, clung to the ground and swept from the grove to the wall, found a dark corner that the palace lanterns couldn't reach, forcefully calmed his mind, sat cross-legged, and slowly converted the domineering true energy in his body into warm strands of energy through the Daxue Mountain, conditioning his body.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Deep in the palace, not far from the Hanguang Hall, Hong Sixiang sat quietly in his room. The Empress Dowager was not feeling well today. She listened to the Emperor telling some of the funny things from today's court banquet. When she heard that Zhuang Mohan had been angered by Fan Xian and vomited blood, the Empress Dowager couldn't help but laugh, but for some reason, she seemed to have some of the common sadness of old people, so she went to sleep early.

Hong Sixiang had been in this palace for decades. The young eunuchs didn't know how old he was. They estimated that he must be seventy or eighty years old? Anyway, Hong Sixiang's only job in the palace now was to talk to the Empress Dowager. He had been here since the founding of the Qing Kingdom. When he was young, he liked to go out of the palace for a stroll, but after he grew old, he realized that there was no difference between the outside and the inside of the palace.

Hong Sixiang picked up a peanut, put it in his mouth, and chewed it with a *puchi puchi* sound, then picked up a small wine glass and sipped it very enjoyably. The oil lamp on the table was dim. When this old eunuch thought of the Fan family's young master going crazy on the palace hall today, a smile couldn't help but bloom on his lips. Even if he was a eunuch, this old man was a eunuch of the Qing Kingdom. It was good that he made the people of Northern Qi look bad. Hong gonggong was in a good mood.

In another part of the inner palace, candles were lit in His Majesty's study, which was naturally much brighter than the eunuchs' rooms. The current emperor was a diligent and loving monarch, so he often reviewed memorials at night. The eunuchs had long been accustomed to it and kept warm water on hand, waiting for a summons at any time.

It was already late after the banquet in the palace hall today, but the Emperor was still diligent, sitting at his desk, holding a writing brush in his hand. The tip of the brush was stained with bright red, like a silent knife for killing people. Suddenly, his brush stopped in the air above the memorial, and his brow gradually furrowed.

The attending eunuch said carefully, "Is Your Majesty tired? Why don't you rest for a while?"

The Emperor laughed and scolded, "Tonight in the palace hall, haven't you broken your hand copying poems yet?"

The eunuch pursed his lips and smiled, and said, "The country produces talented poets. This servant wishes I could copy them every day."

The Emperor smiled, but didn't say anything else. He just occasionally looked up at the window, always feeling that there was something unusual in the darkness there.

...

...

The palace was very large, and the palace in summer was very quiet. The palace maids half-closed their eyes and felt sleepy, but they didn't dare to sleep for a while. The guards carefully guarded the outer city, but the inner palace felt peaceful.

In the corner of the wall, next to the artificial hill, Wu Zhu, dressed in a brand-new light brown coat, was integrated with the night. The only eyes that might make people notice him were also covered by that black cloth. His whole body seemed to have become a similar existence to the surrounding inanimate objects with the help of some kind of martial art.

His breathing and heartbeat had slowed to the extreme, moving in harmony with the gentle night wind around him. Even if someone passed by him, if they didn't intentionally look there, it would be difficult to find his existence.

Wu Zhu "looked" at the lights in the Emperor's study, not knowing how long he had been looking. Then he slowly lowered his head, put on his black hood, and silently walked in another direction of the palace. He walked very cleverly, avoiding the lights, taking advantage of the terrain, accompanied by grass and flowers, entering the mountains without a trace, patrolling the lake without a sound, as terrifying as a ghost, walking in the heavily guarded inner palace as if strolling.