Chapter Sixty-Six: Lan Lier

Handan

Zhao Qian’s Residence

Li Yu considered himself a man of the world, but upon entering Zhao Qian’s mansion, he realized he had underestimated the ancients.

The maids glided by in thin, gauzy robes, their figures plainly visible beneath, their ambiguous allure less tantalizing than simple nudity. Accustomed, it seemed, to the gazes of strangers and entirely untroubled by Li Yu’s bold, burning stare, the maids moved as naturally as if alone.

Zhao Qian, noticing Li Yu’s wolfish eyes, nodded with undisguised pride. What he disliked most were those old pedants, always crying “You disgrace propriety!” The previous few tutors had all stormed out at the very door, cursing as they left. Hypocrites, all of them.

Now this new tutor was interesting—boldly sizing up the women, even drooling onto his own collar without a care. A true kindred spirit.

“These are mere commonplace beauties,” Zhao Qian said generously, pulling Li Yu directly toward the inner quarters. “The true treasures are in the inner court, come—let me show you.”

Li Yu looked wordlessly at his host. The inner court, after all, was usually where the family lived. Zhao Qian was certainly open-handed! He’d followed Ying Zheng for so long and never once glimpsed the king’s wife. Zhao Qian’s magnanimity was unmatched—few in the world could compare.

Soon, however, Li Yu realized he was still mistaken. Zhao Qian’s generosity was unrivaled not only in his own time, but perhaps in all of history.

At the entrance to the inner courtyard, there stood rows upon rows of erotic paintings, each inscribed with the name of the woman depicted. Zhao Qian introduced them proudly: “These women were all selected for the palace during the annual pageant, but my mother intercepted them and sent them here instead.”

Gazing at the alluring, coquettish faces in the paintings, Li Yu felt a pang for the women of the era. Even Zhao Ji, once so exalted, had been little more than a dancer in Lü Buwei’s household, used to entertain guests. Whether for the sake of imperial favor or to fill her own son’s harem, Zhao Qian’s mother had intercepted these girls—likely, Li Yu thought, women of higher caliber than those who made it into the royal palace.

Wishing to display his own worth, Li Yu shook his head and laughed: “Young master, these paintings are but skins—the highest art is the art of the bones.”

Zhao Qian perked up at this. “What is ‘the art of the bones’?”

Li Yu smiled. “A woman’s most alluring moment is not in complete nudity, but in that half-concealed, half-revealed state—like a beauty clinging to her lute, her face half-veiled. That is irresistible.”

Zhao Qian’s imagination was instantly captured. He patted Li Yu on the shoulder, grinning: “You are indeed a tutor worthy of the title! The painting you did for my mother truly outshone all these.”

Li Yu gave an exasperated look at his eccentric host.

Zhao Qian leaned in with a sly grin, “How about this, tutor—will you paint for me?”

Li Yu was puzzled. “How so?”

With a mysterious air, Zhao Qian pulled Li Yu deeper into the residence. Unlike the somewhat conventional decor outside, the inner quarters were styled after a brothel: a dominant pink palette accented with pale yellow, faint purple sandalwood incense drifting in the air, casting a haze of hormones across the room. Billowing pink curtains, light as air, hung everywhere, lending an air of licentiousness.

Li Yu soon realized just what Zhao Qian wanted him to paint. Standing before the easel, he watched as before him unfolded a live tableau: one man and three women locked in passionate combat. Li Yu hardly knew where to begin. Zhao Qian, he thought, must be an ancestor of Zhao Guangyi—across a millennium, the same proclivities!

“Instructor, am I not formidable?” Zhao Qian called out between movements, still eager to compare notes.

Li Yu, glancing at Zhao Qian’s unimpressive appendage, could only force a smile: “Young master, you are a dragon among men, truly gifted.”

“Perhaps we should compete, you and I,” Zhao Qian suggested.

Li Yu: “…” Such generosity!

He waved him off, signaling for Zhao Qian to continue, while he began to sketch. In the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, Zhao Qian’s “battle” was nearing its end. Still naked, he swaggered over, panting, to inspect the painting. At the sight, he burst into delighted laughter: Zhao Qian’s features were bold and muscular, his body rendered in exaggerated, almost cartoonish style—especially the lower half. Zhao Qian clutched the work, beaming. “This, I shall have framed and hung in my hall!”

Li Yu: As long as you’re happy.

“Tell me, tutor, do you enjoy gambling?” Zhao Qian asked.

Li Yu smiled, “That’s nothing much—I have a more interesting idea.”

“Oh?” Zhao Qian was intrigued. “What is it?”

“We open our own casino. I’ll show you how to play.”

“Our own?” Zhao Qian echoed.

“Of course,” Li Yu said. “That’s where the fun is—why play with the leftovers of others?”

“Splendid idea! Why didn’t I think of this before?” Zhao Qian exclaimed.

Li Yu: “…”

And so their alliance was sealed.

Leaving Zhao Qian’s mansion, Li Yu made his way to a residence on the outskirts of Handan.

“You’re back!” Gongsun Li had been anxiously awaiting him. At the sight of Li Yu, she hurried to open the door.

“Li Ji, why are you waiting outside? It’s dangerous,” Li Yu said, putting on a stern face.

“Dangerous? Why?” she asked, confused.

“You’re so beautiful—if some young lord takes a fancy to you, your senior brother hasn’t even been rescued yet, and I’ll have to go save you too.”

Her cheeks reddened. “You’re always teasing…”

Li Yu took her hand, speaking gently. “Once your senior brother is safe, I’ll ask for your hand in marriage.”

She blushed, lowering her gaze. “Mm…”

Xianyang

Li Yu and Honglian arrived at the Bureau of Works. Upon being announced, the old master Gongshu Chou himself came out to greet them.

“What new curiosity have you brought me this time?” Gongshu Chou chuckled, stroking his sparse beard.

“Nothing new. About that flying automaton you were working on—do you have results? I need it now,” Li Yu cut straight to the point, wary of being dragged into more inventing.

He was busy enough already—with so many wives to accompany.

“Oh, the flying automaton! That will need a bit more time,” Gongshu Chou replied languidly, unhurried.

Li Yu: “…”

At that moment, Honglian stepped forward, tugging at Gongshu Chou’s beard, her bright eyes glaring. “Old man, is the automaton my husband asked for really not done?”

“Ow—let go! It’s done, it’s done, just waiting for you to come fetch it!” the old man yelped.

Li Yu smiled and gently pulled Honglian’s hand away. “Lian’er, let go—Master Gongshu is a venerable elder, we must not offend him.”

Only then did the little beauty release his beard, not forgetting to glare at the old man once more.

Rubbing his chin, Gongshu Chou dared not meet Honglian’s gaze. He turned to Li Yu, “This girl is spirited—who is she?”

Li Yu smiled, “Lian’er is my wife.”

Gongshu Chou: “…” No saving face now. What did Li Yu see in this violent girl—was it just her looks?

“Did you finish the ten swords I asked you to forge?” Li Yu inquired.

With a sly grin, Gongshu Chou replied, “You sure have ideas! Those swords look simple, but they’re all made of the finest meteoric iron. I only managed five—take them or leave them.”

Li Yu offered a respectful bow. “Thank you, master.”

“You only wanted five from the start, didn’t you?” Gongshu Chou grumbled.

Li Yu grinned, “Three, actually.”

Gongshu Chou: “You’re something else…”

He ordered the swords delivered to Li Yu’s residence.

“When do you need the automaton?” he asked.

“Tomorrow—I’ll come fetch it then,” Li Yu replied, stroking his chin.

“Very well.”

Leaving the Bureau of Works, Li Yu strolled hand in hand with little Honglian through the bustling streets. After Ying Zheng’s recent display of grandeur, many in Xianyang recognized Li Yu and greeted him warmly.

“Grand Artisan, your wife is beautiful—a real princess!”

“When’s the wedding? I’ll drink to celebrate at home!”

“You’re a lucky man!”

“Your wife looks like she’ll bear you many sons!” one matron said with a broad smile.

“Yes, look at those hips! She’s bound to have sons,” chimed another.

The womenfolk, it seemed, loved to gossip regardless of the age.

Dragged out of the circle by a flustered Honglian, Li Yu looked at her flushed face with tender amusement. He scooped her up in a princess carry.

“Put me down—so many people!” she protested, burying her face in his chest.

Li Yu laughed, “Why care what others think? Holding my wife in my arms is only right.”

With that, he strolled away toward the outskirts, for the ladies were out enjoying the country air today.

…

The Next Day

Handan, Zhao

The streets were livelier than usual; today was the queen’s birthday. The king, wishing to celebrate with the people, distributed pastries throughout the city.

Li Yu, in his role as tutor, accompanied Zhao Qian for a second visit to the royal palace. At the banquet, bored by the parade of unfamiliar faces, he sat alone in a corner drinking quietly.

“How has Prime Minister Guo been lately?”

“Thanks to His Majesty’s favor, all is well.”

Li Yu pricked up his ears; a handsome, middle-aged man had approached—none other than the famous Guo Kai, the fifth great general of the Warring States. Truly a man of presence! Of the four greatest generals, two had met ignoble ends, but this one still shone.

Li Yu decided to make his acquaintance. Raising his cup, he approached with a smile, “Prime Minister Guo, you are indeed a man among men.”

“Oh? And you are?” Guo Kai asked, curious.

“I am Yan Yu, tutor to young lord Qian.”

“Oh, so you’re the one who brought gifts to the palace? Fortune smiles on you!” Guo Kai said with a thin smile.

“In Zhao, I can only rely on your guidance, Prime Minister,” Li Yu replied humbly, then leaned in, lowering his voice. “I have a special treasure just for you—might I visit your residence tomorrow?”

“Oh? How thoughtful! I feel a kinship with you already—come by tomorrow and let us talk at length,” Guo Kai’s attitude warmed instantly. He’d heard the queen had been pleased with Li Yu’s gift; clearly, this man had some means. What would he bring tomorrow? He was eager to find out.

The ministers had all taken their seats, awaiting the king and queen. Zhao Qian found Li Yu and sat beside him.

“Instructor, I found a gambling house today—I’m negotiating to buy it,” he whispered.

Li Yu: Negotiating, my foot—more like strong-arming. Outwardly, he wore a sly smile. “In that case, we can make money and have fun, and perhaps even impress your father.”

Zhao Qian grinned, “Ah, if only I'd met you sooner, tutor—what a loss that I didn’t!”

Li Yu laughed, “It’s not too late now.”

Guo Kai, watching the pair laughing and chatting, felt all the more certain Li Yu was a kindred spirit. No one knew Zhao Qian better than he—after all, he’d molded the boy himself.

Li Yu looked around the hall, curious. “Who is that young man in the front? So young, yet seated so prominently?”

Zhao Qian followed his gaze and sneered, “Zhao Jia, son of the former queen. It’s only his birth.”

Li Yu echoed the sneer, “Looks like a sanctimonious hypocrite—unlike our straightforward young lord.”

Zhao Qian shrugged, “But he’s the crown prince—what can you do?”

Li Yu smiled, “A crown prince is not a king. The title can always change.”

Zhao Qian eyed him. “What do you mean?”

Li Yu replied, “How did the current king ascend? You, too, might follow in your father’s footsteps—after all, a father is the best teacher, isn’t he?”

Zhao Qian recalled how his father, once not the crown prince, had sent the original heir, Zhao Yi, to Qin as a hostage. His eyes brightened at the thought—this man was heaven’s gift, a true strategist!

Li Yu sipped his tea, plotting something unknown.

At the head of the hall, Zhao Jia noticed his wayward brother seated with a handsome youth, a flicker of disdain crossing his face.

“The king arrives!”

The ministers rose as the king entered, his dark circles even deeper than the day before. At his side, the queen, now in a sheer blue low-cut gown, her curves accentuated to a dizzying degree, moved with a suggestive sway. Her makeup was even bolder—pink shadow, crimson lips, violet eyes—exuding nothing but sensuality.

“Be seated, all of you,” the king said, letting himself down with the queen’s assistance. “Today is the queen’s birthday, and I’ve invited you all to celebrate. Let us toast her!”

He raised his cup to the queen; the guests followed suit.

Then Zhao Jia stood, bowing to the king and queen. “In honor of the queen’s birthday, I present a gift—I hope it pleases her.”

The king smiled, “What gift? Bring it forth.”

Zhao Jia unfurled a painting: the king and queen seated together in the great hall.

Before the guests could express admiration, a voice rang out, “Pfft—is that all? And you dare present it?”

All eyes turned to Zhao Qian, but none were surprised.

“And what have you brought for the queen?” an elderly minister inquired.

“I already gave my gift yesterday—a unique treasure,” Zhao Qian announced proudly.

“Oh? Yesterday? But today is the queen’s birthday,” the old man pressed.

“Of course it’s today,” Zhao Qian replied.

“In that case, what you gave yesterday doesn’t count,” the old man retorted, sharp as ever despite his age.

The king waved him off. “No need, General Pang, to bicker with a child.”

But the old general persisted, “If the young lord knows not proper conduct, it is my duty to admonish him.”

Zhao Qian’s face darkened—he’d hoped to shine at his mother’s banquet, but this old man had spoiled it. Just as his temper flared, Li Yu gently pulled him back, signaling him not to be angry.

Li Yu then stepped forward and bowed to the king and queen. The queen’s eyes lit up, her tongue unconsciously licking her lips as she gazed at him.

Li Yu, calm and poised, said, “Young lord Qian’s filial piety is known to all. By his command, I shall paint a portrait for the queen here and now, as a token of sincerity.”

“Oh? Another painting? I remember well the one you did yesterday. Bring the ink and paper!” the king ordered.

A large sheet was set before Li Yu, who took out his charcoal and began to draw. In the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, an image emerged: a beauty seated by a lotus pond.

Then, with a brush, he inscribed a poem:

“Unstained by the mud from which it springs,
Bathed in clear ripples, yet never wanton.”

The meaning was clear: though the queen’s origins were humble, her conduct was pure.

The flattery struck the queen’s heart. She held the painting, stroking the dew-kissed lotus with delight.

The ministers were stunned. They’d dismissed Li Yu as a mere companion of Zhao Qian, but now saw he had true talent.

Even Zhao Jia looked on with envy—how fortunate his brother was to know such a man!

The queen, deeply pleased, raised her cup and walked to Li Yu. “Your gift pleases me. I toast you.”

Li Yu looked at the wine, sensing something familiar. He smiled, “Thank you, Your Majesty. I am not much of a drinker, but a gift from the queen cannot be refused.”

He took the cup and drained it in one motion. His vision blurred, his body went limp, and he collapsed to the floor. Cries of alarm rose around him.

…

In a hazy dream, Li Yu found himself adrift in a sea of flowers, warm and enveloping. He blinked, his eyes unfocused. Above him, a graceful figure swayed, seductive and bewitching.

His mind was clouded. The face above was familiar.

“Mother…”

The figure paused, then a wave of fragrance enveloped him, and two towering peaks drew ever closer.

“Come, my child, taste your mother’s sweetness…”

Li Yu instinctively reached out—soft, fragrant.

As their movements grew more intense, Li Yu’s mind gradually cleared. Staring into that ultimate allure, he felt himself drowning in desire, a small boat tossed on endless waves.

Unwilling to be mastered, he seized the initiative, like a general entering the fray, unleashing all his skill. Only when the other was utterly defeated, exhausted and spent, did Li Yu embrace his captive, savoring the passion of battle.

“Queen, you are truly a woman made of water!” he exclaimed, marveling at the storm that had left the bed and even the floor drenched.

She lay beside him, eyes half-closed, trailing her delicate fingers across his chest. “You’re so young, yet so fierce—I thought you might devour me.”

“It’s your beauty,” Li Yu replied, caressing her long-desired curves. “No man could resist.”

“In all these years, I’ve never been so satisfied,” she sighed. “You devil, what am I to do with you?”

Li Yu smiled, “That’s easily solved. I am equally enamored—if you visit young lord Qian often, we’ll have more chances to meet.”

She tapped his chest, “You’re wicked!”

Li Yu lifted her chin, gazing into her luscious lips. “I’m possessive. My woman must be mine alone—can you promise me that?”

The queen understood his meaning at once. “But the old man is still alive…”

Li Yu chuckled, “I have something—one drop a day, colorless and tasteless. It will send a man into deep sleep, and with time, grow addictive.”

The queen suddenly found this youth frightening—he seemed to have planned every step—but she could not resist the allure of his body, the pleasure she’d never known before.

Oh king, what am I to do? I want him so much…

Li Yu turned his gaze inward. Thanks to the queen’s “nourishment,” the little sapling in his dantian had grown a bit, no longer a fragile blade but showing the outline of a tree. The soil, too, had become richer and expanded nearly double in size.

He had no idea what this meant—there was no one to teach him; he was learning as he went.

Looking at the queen again, his eyes softened. “May I call you Li’er?”

“Oh? Are you falling for me?” she teased, lips curling.

“Who wouldn’t love such a beauty?” he replied, stroking her enchanting face.

“My real name is Lan Li’er. Few know it—how did you find out?”

“Secret,” Li Yu whispered, kissing her fiery lips.

Sometimes, a hunter must become prey—such was Li Yu’s approach now.

…

Heaven Dou Empire

One of the two great empires of Douluo Continent.

Originally, Heaven Dou had ten provinces, but due to the feudal system and the partitioning of the four great kingdoms, it had fragmented into six powers. The empire itself controlled five provinces directly, while the four kingdoms each held one. There was also a duchy, nearly equal in strength to a kingdom, occupying the easternmost and smallest province.

This mirrored the Zhou dynasty’s feudal practices—parceling out land until nothing remained for the ruler. If not for Tang San’s later rise, the empire’s doom would have been assured.

In a sense, Tang San was dragging history backward, but in a fantasy world, things are different: the winner takes all. It’s a matter of timing—whoever reaches the goal first takes everything.

The difference between mortals and gods is but a step, yet their powers are worlds apart. Such is the unreasonable logic of all fantasy worlds.

Li Yu felt this keenly in the Douluo world and realized he needed to further his own cultivation—what he knew was no longer enough.

Tang San had an edge thanks to the Tang Sect.

Li Yu, for his part, would seek out the world’s greatest lineage—Heavenly Sect.