Chapter Two: First Encounter with Lady Zhao

Li Yu gazed at the strange figure before him and recognized him at first glance—Zhao Gao. The ultimate villain in the later stages of the Qin-era animated series, and even more formidable in the historical record, he was hailed as China's foremost eunuch power-broker, idol and predecessor to all eunuchs who followed. After all, in thousands of years of Chinese history, no other eunuch ever managed to call a deer a horse and get away with it. This alone made him truly unique.

Zhao Gao walked slowly toward Li Yu, his voice emerging in a sinister, eerie tone: "The Empress Dowager wishes to see you. Follow me." Li Yu was unaccustomed to the peculiar sound, and a chill ran down his spine. He first clasped his hands apologetically to Meng Ao, then headed toward Zhao Gao.

Li Yu had just wondered why this figure was absent from the imperial court, only to realize that Zhao Gao was still serving beside Zhao Ji and had not yet become the Director of the Carriage Palace. Upon seeing Zhao Gao, Li Yu began to formulate his own plan. For a lowly eunuch to cultivate himself, master the law, earn the favor of the First Emperor, and become the tutor of Hu Hai—such achievements spoke volumes about his exceptional qualities. In the animated Qin series, Zhao Gao was even depicted as a martial arts master. The eternal truth that having more friends makes the path easier should hold even in the Qin era. Li Yu resolved to try befriending Zhao Gao.

He hurried after the eccentric Zhao Gao, turning left and right as if traversing a labyrinth. Just as Li Yu marveled at the vastness of Xianyang Palace, he spotted a hall with a plaque reading "Palace of Sweet Springs." It finally came into view, and he stopped. Zhao Gao turned to Li Yu and said, "The Empress Dowager is inside. Go in by yourself."

Li Yu was in no rush to enter, his expression growing serious as he studied Zhao Gao intently, causing the eunuch to frown and begin to speak. Suddenly, Li Yu clasped his hands tightly, his face showing excitement as he declared, "Brother, upon first meeting you, I felt a deep kinship. There were too many people on the road just now, so I could not speak freely, but now, with no one around, I must speak from my heart. Having grown up an orphan, without brother or father, meeting you feels like meeting family. I wish to become sworn brothers with you—please accept this bow!"

He prepared to kneel in respect, but Zhao Gao quickly lifted him up, not allowing him to kneel, casting a wary glance around and only relaxing when he saw no one was present. What was this strange situation, he wondered.

Li Yu, seeing Zhao Gao's reaction, asked, "Brother, do you not think me worthy?" Zhao Gao was speechless. Who swears brotherhood upon first meeting? And what worth could a lowly eunuch have for him?

Zhao Gao was still bound by tradition. If he had read the Romance of the Three Kingdoms, he would know that the Peach Garden Oath was accomplished in a single day, and it was a bond of life and death, inspiring generations to follow. Li Yu thought that, someday, he must write this story down, for its educational value. He lamented how the morals of society had declined, and wondered why no one believed in his sincerity.

Excitedly, Li Yu tried again to grab Zhao Gao's hand, but Zhao Gao deftly avoided him. Li Yu persisted, "Where there is sincerity, even metal and stone will yield. I believe you will see my genuine intent. I hope that, someday, you will accept me as your brother." With that, he turned toward the Palace of Sweet Springs, but paused, slapping his forehead as if remembering something, and said, "Ah! I've forgotten to ask your name, brother. Could you tell me?"

Zhao Gao was utterly speechless, his mouth twitching as he replied, "My surname is Zhao, my name is Gao."

Li Yu thanked him for the name, then turned and entered the hall, leaving Zhao Gao bewildered, questioning his very existence.

The Palace of Sweet Springs covered an immense area—about the size of a football field. Inside were pavilions, bridges over flowing streams, evoking the beauty of Jiangnan, a sharp contrast to the solemn style of Xianyang and Zhangtai Palaces. Before Li Yu was a stunning woman in a red, floor-length gown, her head adorned with a feathered crown, idly admiring the flowers. It was Li Yu's first clear view of Zhao Ji. He had glimpsed her silhouette once during court, but only through a curtain. Meeting her in person, he understood why she could captivate Ying Yiren so completely. In her thirties, the prime of a woman's beauty—especially in the palace, where she was pampered and untouched by time, she seemed even more radiant, barely older than twenty if one guessed only by appearance.

Her slender, jade-like fingers cradled a rose, her waist bending gracefully, her figure alluring. The majestic contours of her body moved with gravity, drawing the eye, especially the full, shapely curves of her hips—clearly the type favored by mothers for bearing healthy children. No wonder she was the mother of the First Emperor, truly a peerless beauty.

Leaving aside the animated Qin series, Zhao Ji in the historical record could easily claim the title of the era's greatest beauty, her status making her unmatched in her time.

As Li Yu approached, a palace maid whispered in Zhao Ji's ear. Zhao Ji turned to look at Li Yu, and in that instant, the garden seemed even more dazzling—charm, grace, and seductive allure failed to capture her beauty; one could only marvel at the creator's ingenuity.

Seeing Li Yu staring in a daze, Zhao Ji asked curiously, "Why do you stand there gawking instead of paying respect? Is my attire inappropriate, or is there something wrong with my face?" She laughed as she spoke.

Li Yu hurriedly saluted, "I am Li Yu, greeting the Empress Dowager. Forgive me, Your Majesty. As an orphan, upon seeing your extraordinary beauty, I was reminded of my own mother. I have never seen what my mother looked like, but seeing you, I imagined she must have been as noble, gracious, and gentle as you. I beg your pardon." Li Yu lied smoothly, though in truth, he was simply stunned by Zhao Ji's beauty. Yet her maternal aura did stir genuine feelings in him, deprived as he was of motherly love.

Zhao Ji believed him, her eyes growing moist. "Today in court, I wanted to adopt you as my son, but that scheming Lü Buwei interfered. Otherwise, Zheng would not have hesitated, and the matter would be settled. Now it must wait seven days. After that, we shall see who dares object!"

Li Yu was uneasy. He had no desire to become Zhao Ji's adopted son, but circumstances left him no grounds to refuse. Still, he had his own strategy. After a moment's thought, he raised his head and said, "Upon first meeting you, Your Majesty, apart from thinking of my mother, I was moved by your presence and the beauty of the scene, inspiring me to compose a poem. That is why I was lost in thought. I beg your forgiveness."

Zhao Ji’s interest was piqued. "What poem? Quickly write it for me. Though my garden is lovely, no one has ever composed verse for it. If your poem is good, I will set it to music."

In her youth in Zhao, Zhao Ji had debuted as a singer, and was well acquainted with poetry—half an expert in the subject. Hearing that someone was moved to poetry by her garden, she became enthusiastic, ordering her maids to bring silk, brush, and ink, and led Li Yu to a nearby pavilion with a round stone table.

Soon, the maids had everything ready. Li Yu examined the pre-Qin brush, which was shorter than later ones, unsure how it would feel in his hand. The characters he had previously written for Ying Zheng were made with charcoal, but this was his first time using a pre-Qin brush. He had no choice but to try, dipping the brush and writing each character. His unique style quickly caught Zhao Ji’s attention. To master the ancient script, Li Yu had used his photographic memory to study for over a week, enough to get by.

As he finished, Zhao Ji ordered the silk to be raised and eagerly read the poem aloud:

"Clouds long for robes, flowers long for beauty,
The spring breeze caresses the threshold, dewdrops gleam bright,
If not seen atop Jade Mountain,
Would meet beneath the moon on fairy terraces.
A branch in full bloom, dew condensing fragrance,
Rain and clouds at Wu Mountain, vainly break one’s heart.
I ask the southern palace who is like this,
Pity Lady Bao, resting with her new makeup.
A famous flower and the nation’s joy together,
Long may the jade youth gaze with a smile.
Explaining the autumn wind’s endless sorrow,
Leaning on the railing by the north of Chenxiang Pavilion."

As she read, Zhao Ji’s voice grew softer, her face blushing like a ripe apple. She looked at Li Yu and murmured, "Such a young age, and already so mischievous!"

Yet she cherished the silk in her hands, her expression dreamy and lost in her thoughts.

Ah, women—always saying one thing and feeling another.

Li Yu was deeply moved by Zhao Ji’s lovestruck expression. In the modern era, finding a lovestruck girl was harder than winning the lottery. Knowledge can make one wise, but it also makes one see through the essence of life, especially in a technologically advanced age. The vast worldview, cosmic perspective, views on money, and Western ideas of freedom make it easy for love to be shattered. Even elementary school children rarely believe in love nowadays. Only in the simple pre-Qin era could love-struck hearts be found, and every such girl is a treasure—cherish them if you meet one.

Zhao Ji’s endurance in Zhao proved her sincerity toward Ying Yiren. Yet, after Yiren returned home, he abandoned her, marrying and having children, forgetting her and his son for six years. If not for Lü Buwei’s reminder, it was doubtful that Ying Yiren would have remembered the mother and son in Zhao at all, especially as his life was short; after Ying Zheng’s return, Yiren died soon after.

This explains why Zhao Ji later fell so easily for Lao Ai’s deception—her sense of security in love was lacking, and she was a lovestruck soul, caught in a vicious cycle.

Now, with Li Yu present, at least the Lao Ai affair would not take place.

Seeing Zhao Ji still lost in reverie, Li Yu coughed and said, "If Your Majesty feels lonely, I am willing to spend more time with you. Please take care of yourself, for the future is long, and who knows what joys and people may come. It is late; to avoid gossip, I will take my leave."

Zhao Ji snapped out of her daydream, somewhat embarrassed. "If you say you’ll spend more time with me, why are you leaving so soon?"

Li Yu replied, "If you feel lonely, I’ll come again tomorrow, and bring some inventions to amuse you."

The Empress Dowager’s interest was piqued. She waved Li Yu off. "I look forward to your inventions. It’s late; go now!"

Just as Li Yu was about to leave, Zhao Ji called him back. "Wait!" She rose, took a jade token from her sleeve, handed it to a maid, and said to Li Yu, "Take this. It will make it easier for you to enter and exit the palace."

Li Yu gratefully accepted it, but lingered awkwardly, hesitating, which made the Empress Dowager curious. "Why haven’t you left? Didn’t you say you fear gossip?"

Li Yu seemed to muster great courage, unable to meet her gaze. "Beware of Lü Buwei. He is not a good man." Without waiting for her response, he turned and fled, leaving Zhao Ji stunned. Only after several breaths did she react, her face turning crimson.

Coincidentally, a palace maid approached Zhao Ji. "Empress Dowager, Chancellor Lü requests an audience."

Zhao Ji, furious, snapped, "I will not see him. Tell him never to come here again; even if he does, I will not see him." She picked up something to throw, stopped halfway, stroked the silk, and stormed off to the inner courtyard.

Li Yu, just outside the Palace of Sweet Springs, saw the eccentric Zhao Gao still standing there, staring at the ground, lost in thought.

Li Yu walked over and said, "Brother, were you waiting for me?"

Zhao Gao looked up at Li Yu. "I serve in the Palace of Sweet Springs."

Li Yu said, "You may not accept me as your brother now, but to me, you will always be my brother!" With that, he turned and left, carefree and without regret, leaving Zhao Gao to his own thoughts.

As Li Yu walked toward the palace gates, he admired the layout of Xianyang Palace. Compared to the palaces of the later Qing dynasty, the Qin royal residence was practical yet grand, not overflowing with dragons and phoenixes in jade, displaying opulence.

Li Yu walked on, full of wonder.

Passing by Zhangtai Palace, he saw a man holding a sword, fists clasped. As Li Yu approached, the man sprang forward, crossing a hundred feet in a flash, leaving a blur behind, and appeared before Li Yu...