I am invincible, that's why I lie down. You're using your entire clan to rebel?

Chapter 452 Liu Ruolan requests an audience with Prime Minister Li Si!

Han Demao stroked his beard and sighed.

"Ruolan, we understand what you're saying. But what can we old bones do? In terms of official rank, the highest we can get is a fifth-rank official, and we can't even see His Majesty."

"As for connections, you saw today that none of the people the Han family has cultivated in the court dared to plead for them. As for seniority, we old folks have long been marginalized; who would listen to us now?"

His words were like knives, cutting into Liu Ruolan's heart, one cut at a time.

She bit her lip, suppressing the surging despair in her heart little by little, her voice even softer than before.

"Then...could we jointly submit a petition? We beg Your Majesty to consider the Han family's generations of loyalty and righteousness and show leniency?"

Han Dechang shook his head, his face as solemn as an iron plate.

"A joint petition? If His Majesty were willing to read it, he wouldn't have denied us even a chance to speak in court. Besides, Han Zhong himself doesn't defend himself; what right do we outsiders have to plead for him?"

Liu Ruolan's heart sank even further.

Han Deren slammed his hand on the table, the sound echoing through the silent hall and making the candlelight flicker.

He stood up, his face ashen, his eyes filled with resentment and anger.

"This won't work, that won't work, are we just going to sit here and wait? Wait for Han Zhong to be beheaded, wait for the Han family to fall?"

No one answered him.

The hall was deathly silent, with only the faint crackling of the candlelight and the occasional rustling of the night wind through the ginkgo leaves outside the window.

Han Demao lowered his eyes, his voice so low it sounded like an echo from underground.

"We still have another way."

All eyes turned to him.

Liu Ruolan's heart leaped into her throat, and she asked nervously:

"Please speak, Uncle!"

Han Demao raised his head and looked at Liu Ruolan, his cloudy eyes filled with deep weariness and helplessness.

"Go find Chancellor Li Si. He is a veteran of three reigns and enjoys the Emperor's deep trust. If he is willing to intercede on our behalf, there might still be a glimmer of hope."

Liu Ruolan's eyes suddenly lit up.

She stood up, her voice trembling slightly with excitement.

"My uncle is right! I will go to Prime Minister Li's residence to request an audience first thing tomorrow morning!"

Han Dechang shook his head, his expression even more solemn than before.

"Madam, Prime Minister Li is a master of self-preservation. Today in court, he didn't say a word, nor did he even glance at Han Zhong. If you go to him, he probably won't even see you."

Liu Ruolan was stunned.

Her lips trembled slightly, and her voice was hoarse.

"We have to give it a try. How will we know if it will work if we don't try?"

Han Deren also stood up, walked to Liu Ruolan, clasped his hands and bowed.

"Madam, I'll go with you. I have a fellow townsman working at Prime Minister Li's residence; perhaps he can pull some strings."

Looking at him, seeing the determination in his eyes, Liu Ruolan felt a surge of inexplicable warmth in her heart.

She nodded, her voice hoarse.

"Thank you, Uncle Liu."

Han Demao stood up, leaning on his cane, and walked shakily to Liu Ruolan.

He reached out and gently patted her shoulder, the touch light and tender, like comforting a frightened child.

"Ruolan, whether it works out or not, you have to prepare for the worst. Getting past Han Zhong will be very difficult."

"We can only do our best. We must not anger His Majesty. Otherwise, His Majesty has not yet blamed our entire clan. If we anger His Majesty and blame our entire clan, it will be even more troublesome."

Upon hearing this, everyone's expression changed slightly, and then they nodded in agreement.

The implication was clear: let Han Zhong die alone, and don't drag them down with him.

Save them if you can, otherwise give up.

Liu Ruolan's tears finally welled up.

How could she not know this?

But how could she give up as long as there was a glimmer of hope?

Liu Ruolan bit her lip, tears silently welling up in her eyes and streaming down her pale cheeks.

She didn't cry out loud, but just lowered her head, her shoulders trembling slightly.

One by one, the clan elders in the hall stood up, bowed to her, and turned to leave.

The footsteps faded into the distance, disappearing into the courtyard. The last person to leave the main hall glanced back.

The hall was empty, with only Liu Ruolan standing there.

The candlelight burned quietly beside her, casting her long, lonely shadow on the wall.

Tomorrow, she is going to Prime Minister Li's residence.

No matter the outcome, she was going.

She would be willing to kneel and kowtow in front of the mansion gate.

Liu Ruolan took a deep breath, wiped away her tears, turned around, and walked towards the study.

The candlelight was still burning in the study.

Han Xin'er and Han Qin'er were still sitting at their desks, one reading a book and the other lost in thought.

Hearing the door open, the two of them looked up at the same time.

Liu Ruolan stood at the door, a faint smile on her lips, a very gentle smile.

"Xin'er, Qin'er, Mother is going out tomorrow. Be good at home and listen to the steward."

Han Xin'er nodded, without asking where they were going or why.

She simply nodded obediently, lowered her head, and continued reading.

Han Qin'er blinked, her voice clear and crisp.

"Mother, where are you going?"

Liu Ruolan smiled softly.

"I'm going to visit a friend. I'll be back soon."

She didn't say anything more, turned around, and disappeared into the night at the doorway.

Han Qin'er looked in the direction where her mother had disappeared, and that inexplicable unease welled up in her heart again.

She bit her lip, wanting to chase after her, when her sister's voice drifted from behind her.

"Don't ask anymore. Mother will come back."

Han Qin'er paused for a moment, then turned around to look at her sister. Her sister had her head down, her long hair obscuring her face, making it impossible to see her expression.

For some reason, her nose suddenly felt a little sore. She didn't ask any more questions, lowered her head, and continued reading.

........

at the same time,

The atmosphere at Li Si's residence was equally somber.

The study was brightly lit by candles, which burned from nightfall until dawn, and the candle wax condensed into dark red flowers on the candlesticks.

Li Si sat behind his desk, with scrolls of secret reports spread out in front of him, a newly opened letter clutched in his hand, his brow furrowed.

He is constantly mobilizing his intelligence network to find out what is happening in the southwestern border region.

Why did Han Zhong suffer such a crushing defeat?

Why did Your Majesty order his execution?

What untold secret is hidden in this?

As prime minister, Li Si naturally had his own intelligence network; otherwise, he would not have been able to hold onto his position.

However, his intelligence network is not as powerful as His Majesty's, and many messages are transmitted very slowly. Therefore, he has not yet pieced together a complete truth and can only wait anxiously in his residence.

The night wind seeped in through the cracks in the window, making the candlelight flicker and cast dim shadows on the wall.

Li Si leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes, and tapped his fingers lightly on the armrest twice, making a "tap-tap" sound that was particularly clear in the quiet study.

He was waiting, waiting for the spies scattered across the southwestern border to send back messages, waiting for the fragmented clues to piece together a complete picture.

He has been waiting for several hours since nightfall, growing anxious and parched, but still has not received any news.

During this time, servants outside the door came to report again and again.

"Your Excellency, the Vice Minister of Rites, Lord Wang, requests an audience."

"Your Excellency, the Imperial Censor Chen requests an audience."

"Your Excellency, Minister Zhao of the Ministry of War requests an audience."

"Your Majesty, Prime Minister..."

Li Si didn't even glance at him, not even raising his eyelids. He simply waved his hand, his voice indifferent and devoid of any emotion.

"I will not see them all. I will say that I am unwell and we will meet again another day."

He knew these people were definitely there to find out about Han Zhong.

The Han family had cultivated connections in the court for many years, with relatives and friends all over the country. Now that Han Zhong had been suddenly executed, those people naturally couldn't sit still and wanted to get information from him.

The key issue is that he himself doesn't know anything right now.

And even if he knew, he couldn't meet these people.

His Majesty's attitude is truly unfathomable; his nonchalant demeanor hides a chilling edge, and his casualness carries an undeniable air of authority.

If he were to meet with these people at this time and discuss this matter in private, he would be courting death.

Having navigated the treacherous waters of court for decades, Li Si had witnessed countless storms and upheavals. He knew all too well when to speak and when to remain silent.

He didn't see anyone, sitting alone in his study, waiting for news, waiting for dawn.

As dawn broke on the horizon, Li Si had yet to receive the secret report from the southwestern border.

He rubbed his sore eyes, stretched his stiff neck, stood up, and prepared to go to the side hall for a short rest.

He is now over sixty and can no longer endure the hardships of his youth.

"Your Majesty, Prime Minister."

An aged voice came from outside the door, cautious and tentative.

Li Si paused, frowning.

"What is it?"

The door was gently pushed open, and an elderly man in a gray robe walked in, his head bowed, his hands hanging at his sides, his posture respectful.

He was the old steward of the Li family, surnamed Zhao. He had served Li Si for more than 20 years. He was loyal, reliable, and never overstepped his bounds.

Steward Zhao walked three steps to the desk, stopped, and bowed deeply.

"Your Excellency, Lady Liu, wife of Han Zhong, requests an audience."

Li Si's brows furrowed even more.

He originally didn't want to see it either.

Han Zhong's wife was too sensitive. If he met her at this time and something happened, he would be unable to defend himself and would be unable to clear his name no matter what.

"I won't see you." He waved his hand dismissively.

Butler Zhao did not leave immediately.

He stood there, hesitated for a moment, and then bowed again.

"Your Excellency, haven't you been investigating Han Zhong's case?"

He paused, then lowered his voice even further.

"Perhaps his wife knows something. After all, Han Zhong has stayed at home ever since he returned to Beijing and has never gone out. His wife must know more than we do."

Li Si's eyes flickered.

That's a good point.

After returning to the capital from the southwestern border, Han Zhong remained secluded at home and refused to see any visitors.

His wife, Liu Ruolan, was the closest person to him, and perhaps she really knew something.

He might be willing to risk meeting her.

Li Si quickly calculated in his mind.

When His Majesty was in the hall, although he wanted to kill Han Zhong, he was not too angry. Instead, he seemed to have a...musical feeling.

Like a cat toying with a mouse, like a chess player admiring the game he has set up.

He thought he might be able to meet Han Zhong's wife to confirm his inner thoughts.

If Han Zhong's crimes were truly as simple as they appeared, His Majesty wouldn't have looked at him like that.

If there are other hidden circumstances surrounding Han Zhong's crimes, Liu Ruolan might be able to provide him with some clues.

"Then let's meet her." Li Si's voice remained indifferent, revealing no emotion. "Go, take her to the side hall."

Butler Zhao bowed. "Yes."

He turned around, strode out of the study, and his footsteps gradually faded into the distance.

Liu Ruolan stood at the foot of the stone steps outside the Li residence, her hands clasped in front of her, her fingers slightly clenched in her sleeves, her face as pale as paper, her eyes slightly red, and her lips devoid of color.

She has been waiting here for half an hour.

I left home at the crack of dawn, arriving at the Li residence with trepidation, presented my visiting card, and then began the long wait.

She didn't know if Li Si would see her, whether he would be willing to help, or whether hope or deeper despair awaited her.

Steward Zhao walked out of the mansion gate with quick steps, went directly to Liu Ruolan, bowed, and made a "please" gesture.

"Madam, the Prime Minister requests your presence. Please come with me."

Liu Ruolan's heart jumped, and the weight that had been hanging over her for so long finally eased slightly.

She quickly curtsied, her voice hoarse. Butler Zhao, head bowed, led the way.

Liu Ruolan followed behind him, passing through corridors and courtyards.

The door to the side hall was open, and the interior was simply furnished with a long table made of rosewood, two armchairs, and a bronze lamp.

The candlelight burned quietly inside the lampshade, illuminating the room with a dim and warm glow.

Butler Zhao stopped at the door and stepped aside.

"Please go inside and wait a moment, Madam. The Prime Minister will be here shortly."

Liu Ruolan took a deep breath, stepped over the threshold, walked to the center of the side hall, and stopped.

She stood there, hands at her sides, head bowed, not daring to sit down or look around.

Butler Zhao turned and left, his footsteps fading into the distance and disappearing at the end of the corridor.