The jade tablet was cold in Yingluo's hand, its smooth surface a stark contrast to the fire of her resolve. It was not just a pass; it was a key to a den of vipers. The Imperial Stables were not merely a place for horses. In the grand chessboard of the court, they were a strategic point, a source of power for the army, and now, a cesspool of Li Jian's greed.
As she walked the path leading out of the inner palace and towards the western grounds, the air began to change. The delicate scent of ornamental flowers and polished wood was replaced by something earthier, more primal. The smell of hay, manure, and warm animal hide grew stronger. This was the empire's muscle, and like any muscle, it had its own raw, untamed energy.
