Crown Prince Longwei Zian [POV]
The absolute second Xiu Liang darted out of my private bedchamber, his eyes wide with the frantic, desperate energy of a small animal spotting a hole in a fence, I didn't even move a muscle to stop him.
Instead, a low, genuinely amused chuckle escaped my throat.
*What a cute, utterly gorgeous, and completely transparent little creature.*
My mind briefly drifted back to the very first time my path had crossed with his. Back then, he had been draped in garments that could only be described as actual, literal rags.
He looked like he had been dragged through a spiritual battlefield backwards.
Yet, even beneath the dirt and the frayed, pathetic fabric, his ethereal beauty was something that a mere pile of rags could never hope to conceal.
He had caught my eye instantly—not just because of his face, but because of the way he looked at me.
Most people looked at me with paralyzing terror, blind worship, or carefully masked greed. But Xiu Liang? Xiu Liang looked at me with an entire dictionary of highly complex, deeply irritated, and profoundly stressed expressions that I found utterly intoxicating to unpack.
Every single time I cornered him against a wall or hovered directly over his trembling frame on the imperial mattress, I could feel the raw temptation to thoroughly take advantage of his defenselessness.
So, when he frantically plotted his little "stealth escape" today, I simply stood back and let him think he succeeded. I let him have his little moment of freedom.
Why? Because I know a fundamental truth of the universe: the next time I lock him in my embrace, I am never letting him go.
I will hold onto him so tightly that the concept of escape will entirely evaporate from his beautiful, chaotic mind.
"Your Highness," a sharp, high-pitched voice suddenly called out from beyond the heavy double doors, instantly shattering my romantic reverie.
"The hour has officially arrived. The ceremony is commencing."
I smoothed down the front of my heavy, silver-embroidered ceremonial robes.
"En."
I glided out of my chambers, the soles of my boots clicking softly against the polished jade floors. Immediately, rows of palace eunuchs and maids fell into a perfectly neat, synchronized line along the corridor.
They dropped to their knees, bowing their heads so low their foreheads practically brushed the tiles, ensuring their eyes never once drifted in my direction. Standard imperial protocol.
As I walked down the long, echoing hallway with the massive entourage trailing silently behind me, a heavy weight settled in my gut. I didn't feel good about this crowning event.
It wasn't because I was worried about the pathetic, treasonous little coup that Great General Tang was currently trying to orchestrate—I had already accounted for that variable.
No, the true heaviness in my chest came from a far more permanent reality: my father's life was rapidly coming to an absolute, unyielding end.
I know how harsh that sounds. To hear a son speak of his father's impending demise with such cold, clinical detachment might shock a commoner. But in the royal family, truth is the only currency that matters.
My father's vital organs were failing, and I had to be thoroughly, flawlessly prepared for the catastrophic shift in power the exact moment his final breath left his body.
As I drew closer to the grand entrance of the throne room, my steps felt as heavy as mountain peaks. Suddenly, across the intersecting courtyard, another figure stepped into my line of sight.
It was the Emperor. He was walking from the opposite direction, coming straight from the main Imperial Palace.
I stopped immediately, inclining my head and clasping my hands together to greet him with the absolute pinnacle of royal respect.
"Father."
To the untrained eye of the public, he looked entirely unchanged—imposing, magnificent, and untouched by illness.
But as his son, I could see the minute tremors in his hands, the faint gray shadow beneath his eyes. He was suffering immensely from the toxic poison flowing through his meridians, yet he refused to let a single ounce of vulnerability show.
I didn't feel pity or sorrow for him. Pity is an insult to a man like him. My father was, and always would be, a towering, indestructible figure who would leave an unforgettable scar on the history of this empire.
The Emperor stopped, his sharp eyes locking onto mine. He didn't speak a word, but a faint, proud smile graced his lips as he gave me a firm nod.
He turned around, his grand, golden dragon robes billowing behind him, and proceeded to walk toward the massive doors where the throne and thousands of awaiting citizens lingered.
"Presenting His Imperial Majesty, the Sovereign of the Yang Kingdom!" the head eunuch roared, his voice amplified by spiritual energy.
The two heavily armored guards threw the massive doors open. The Emperor stepped through, and the immediate, deafening roar of thousands of happy, cheering citizens flooded the hallway.
They were completely captivated by his powerful, majestic aura, utterly oblivious to the tragedy brewing beneath the surface.
I smiled in quiet, heavy contentment.
*Ah... Father. You are so truly great. How can I ever hope to surpass your shadow when you leave behind a legacy this magnificent?*
=====°°°°°
Great General Tang [POV]
*HAHAHAHA!*
Look at these absolute, brainless, common fools! They are actually screaming their lungs out, completely wasting their breath to celebrate the upcoming coronation of a literal, wet-behind-the-ears brat! They honestly think that child is going to become the supreme Emperor of this entire domain!
It is completely, utterly laughable. What could a mere, inexperienced brat possibly know about handling the massive, cutthroat logistics of an entire empire?
He has spent his whole life playing with high-realm spiritual toys while I was bleeding on the borders!
If only the current, stubborn old Emperor had possessed the basic intelligence to name *me*—his most loyal, terrifyingly powerful General—as his rightful heir instead of his stupid, arrogant son, I might have shown mercy.
I might have allowed the old man to die peacefully in his sleep without dissolving his internal organs from the inside out. But alas, the royal family chose arrogance.
*"Well,"* I thought, a dark, vicious sneer spreading across my face as I sat in my prime VIP seat, casually smoothing down my luxurious silk robes.
*"Let's just sit back, relax, and enjoy this stupid, pathetic little theater performance before the real show begins."*
I subtly shifted my gaze across the VIP podium. One of my high-ranking military subordinates, who was stationed near the western security perimeter, caught my eye.
He gave me a sharp, barely perceptible nod, signaling that the hidden foreign battalions were in position, the assassination squads were primed, and everything was 100% under our control.
I nodded back smoothly, a wave of absolute, toxic satisfaction washing over my chest.
*Hahaha! Soon. In just a matter of minutes, this entire empire will belong to me, and absolutely no soul in heaven or earth will be able to stop my ascension!*
*HAHAHAHA!*
Xiaofan [POV]
The heavy wooden doors swung open with a massive boom, and the old Emperor finally stepped out onto the grand marble stage.
*Whoa.*
I instinctively tightened my grip on the handle of my broom, my fourteen-year-old eyes widening in genuine awe. What a truly monstrous, terrifyingly great aura.
Even from all the way down here in the service corridors, the pure pressure of his spiritual energy makes my chest feel tight. He looks like a living mountain.
I scanned the stage frantically, my heart beating with an entirely different kind of excitement. The old Emperor is cool and all, but he's not the main event.
I am completely, 100% looking forward to seeing the Crown Prince make his grand entrance... mostly so I can spot my beloved Liang-gege!
*Don't worry, Gege!* I thought, my assassin brain instantly spinning into overdrive.
*Your loyal little sister is on standby! The moment that terrifying Prince tries to use his high-realm, soul-crushing weight technique to torture you on the throne, I will deploy my ultimate broom-striking maneuver and rescue you from the clutches of the royal family!*
Female Lead Jiao Shu Heng [POV]
I sat gracefully at the very peak of the exclusive VIP podium, my long, silk sleeves arranged in a flawless, picture-perfect drape around my knees. As the old Emperor stepped out onto the platform, my heart fluttered with a deep, profound sense of validation.
*My future father-in-law is indeed a magnificent, incomparably good Emperor,* I thought to myself, a sweet, innocent, yet highly calculating smile gracing my lips as my eyes sparkled like literal starlight under the sun.
With a father that grand, I am absolutely, 100% certain that my future husband—the Crown Prince—will become just as great, if not greater.
Yes, I am already completely assuming that the future Emperor will be my husband. It doesn't matter what kind of political obstacles stand in the way, and it certainly doesn't matter if he hasn't actually noticed me yet.
I am the prime daughter of the Jiao Clan, the destined heroine of this realm. No matter what it takes, I will make absolutely sure of it.
Sooner or later, that majestic, silver-haired Crown Prince will fall directly into my hands, hook, line, and sinker.
After all, a true dragon will never produce a common snake. My future husband is a dragon among men, and only a true phoenix like myself is worthy of sitting by his side on that golden throne.
Xiu Liang [POV]
Meanwhile, behind the massive, dusty ceremonial curtains directly at the back of the golden throne, I was currently having a severe, multi-layered corporate panic attack.
Through the tiny slit in the fabric, I watched the old Emperor stand majestically before his people, completely unaware that his General was laughing like a maniac in the front row, the Female Lead was planning a marital hostile takeover in the VIP box, and a fourteen-year-old brainwashed assassin was preparing to fight the Crown Prince with a household cleaning tool.
*"This is an absolute, unmitigated administrative disaster,"* I wept silently, rubbing my aching temples as my fifty-year-old corporate soul withered inside my chest.
I looked at the Crown Prince, who was now gliding onto the stage with a calm, freezing expression that practically screamed 'untracked liability.'
*"Listen to me, you arrogant, beautiful, red-flag brat,"* I thought, staring intently at the back of Longwei Zian's head.
*"I don't care about your high-realm pride, and I definitely don't care about your terrifying hobby of cornering me on your imperial bed. But I am going to make absolutely sure you survive this coronation day no matter what."*
I clenched my fists inside my oversized silk sleeves, my jaw tight. I couldn't afford to make a single tactical error here. If I slip up, if my risk assessment is off by even a fraction of a percent, the plot line breaks, the Male Lead dies, and my transmigrated soul will be permanently vanished into the void without a single trace.
*"F*ck this absolute nightmare of a second life!"* I cursed mentally, checking my invisible system interface as the first shadowy figures began to move in the high rafters above the stage.
*"I survived twenty-five years of aggressive corporate auditing and hostile market crashes. There is no way I am letting a bunch of ancient, corrupt politicians ruin my quarterly survival metrics! System 888, prepare the defensive barriers! The hostile takeover is officially live!"*