I, Am a Living Yama; Empress Advises Me to Stay Calm

To Ying Yinman, the mysterious Brother Yang already seemed impossibly handsome. But learning that the infamous Poison Minister was supposedly even more striking? That left her stunned.
As Yang Yi watched her expression shift from surprise to disbelief, he couldn’t help but chuckle to himself.
The two spent the better part of the day exploring the vibrant streets of Luoyang. By the time they returned to the Yang residence, the sun was dipping low on the horizon, painting the sky in hues of amber and crimson. Wei Zifu awaited them at the entrance, her expression urgent.
“Prime Minister,” she began, hurrying forward, “someone from Qin is here to see you. They said… they said their princess is at your residence.”
Yang Yi blinked, momentarily caught off guard. His gaze shifted to Ying Yinman, who stood beside him.
“You’re the Princess of Qin?”
Equally startled, Ying Yinman’s almond-shaped eyes widened.
“Prime Minister? Could it be that you’re…”
Wei Zifu glanced between the two, her surprise evident.
Yang Yi raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into an amused smile.
“That’s right. I’m the so-called ruthless and cunning Poison Minister you’ve been talking about.”
Ying Yinman’s jaw dropped, a wave of embarrassment flooding her.
Yang Yi’s faint smile didn’t waver.
“Let’s meet these visitors from Qin. It seems they’ve been rather quick.”
Still reeling, Ying Yinman nodded hesitantly and followed him to the hall.
Inside, a man dressed in black stood at the forefront, flanked by several Qin soldiers. Upon seeing her, his posture relaxed slightly, though his expression remained formal.
“Princess Yinman, you really are here,” the man said respectfully. “His Majesty is deeply concerned about your safety. Please, come back to Great Qin with us.”
Ying Yinman crossed her arms, pouting slightly. “You got here quickly.”
The man offered a wry smile. “The day you left, His Majesty ordered us to track you down. We followed your trail through Great Zhou, discovered you were at the newspaper office, and then learned you left with Prime Minister Yang.”
His eyes flickered toward Yang Yi, who stood with an unreadable smile. The man’s wariness was palpable.
“My name is Zhang Han,” he introduced himself, his voice deep and steady. “I am here on His Majesty’s orders to escort the princess home. I request your cooperation, Prime Minister Yang.”
Yang Yi arched an eyebrow.
He recognized the name instantly.
Yang Yi’s gaze shifted to Ying Yinman, his expression thoughtful before a mischievous smile curved his lips.
“Of course, I won’t stop you, as long as Manman wants to go back.”
Zhang Han’s heart skipped a beat.
His eyes darted to Ying Yinman. The familiar tone in which the Poison Minister addressed the princess sent his mind racing.
The thought made his blood run cold. As an ambitious young man, he had paid close attention to the famous figures of various states, but Yang Yi was a man who truly unsettled him—a living Yama, feared and respected in equal measure.
Ying Yinman’s cheeks flushed at the sound of her pen-name, now used so casually. In this context, with her true identity revealed, it felt far more intimate than before.
Her voice wavered slightly as she addressed Zhang Han. “I’ll return with you, but I want to stay another day. I’ll leave tomorrow.”
Zhang Han hesitated, glancing uneasily at Yang Yi before replying,
“Your Highness, His Majesty ordered us to bring you back immediately—”
“No,” Ying Yinman interrupted firmly, crossing her arms. “You’ll listen to me, or I won’t go back at all.”
Zhang Han froze, stunned into silence. After a long pause, he bowed respectfully.
“As the princess commands…”
Yang Yi chuckled lightly and turned to Zhang Han.
“General Zhang, do you have accommodations arranged?”
Zhang Han nodded stiffly. “Her Majesty, the Empress of Zhou, has already seen to our arrangements. Thank you for your concern, Prime Minister Yang.”
Yang Yi raised an eyebrow but wasn’t surprised. The Empress undoubtedly knew about the arrival of these armed Qin soldiers and had likely granted them a measure of freedom—as long as they caused no trouble.
When Zhang Han and his men departed, leaving only Yang Yi and Ying Yinman in the hall, Yang Yi smiled playfully.
“Princess, you’ve kept your identity hidden well…”
Ying Yinman huffed, her arms still crossed.
“And you, Prime Minister, are no better.”
Yang Yi laughed and settled into a chair. “So, who does the Emperor of Qin want you to marry?”
Ying Yinman sighed dramatically and plopped into a chair herself, her long legs swinging idly.
“Li Si’s son.”
Yang Yi nodded thoughtfully. “Unacceptable.”
“Right?” Ying Yinman’s face lit up, as though finding a kindred spirit.
“Li Si is so scheming! His son is probably just as bad—always brooding and annoying. Besides, I want to marry someone I love, like in
…”
Yang Yi’s smile stiffened.
Ying Yinman tilted her head, curiosity gleaming in her eyes.
“What about you, Prime Minister? What do you think of marriage?”
Yang Yi’s tone softened, his expression turning serious.
“Marriage should be based on mutual affection and respect. It’s important to find someone who values you for who you are, not for political convenience.”
His lips quirked into a playful smile. “Of course, if you meet someone virtuous, you should prioritize your career. If you meet someone kind, you should start a family.”
Ying Yinman nodded earnestly, her eyes sparkling. “That makes so much sense.”
Yang Yi’s grin widened. “But if you meet someone both rich and noble, well, why not have it all?”
Ying Yinman blinked at him, her mouth opening slightly in confusion.