Through the eyes of one of his bird scouts in the Xie residence, Li Yuan spotted his sister-in-law, Xie Wei, hurrying toward the secluded chamber where he cultivated. The stately, dignified beauty always carried herself with grace, every gesture polished and poised. Even now, as she walked briskly, her composure didn’t falter. She stopped before the hidden chamber, knocked softly, and called gently, “Your Majesty… Your Majesty.” Li Yuan frowned slightly. Xie Wei never disturbed him unless it was urgent. For her to come here herself could only mean one thing. The situation had reached a point where the emperor’s personal presence was required. He sighed, giving up on cultivation for now. With a flick of his hand, he pulled out the Nine Provinces Provisional Patrol Token from his equipment box. Then he reappeared from within the coffin to the Xie residence. He quickly changed into the formal robes he’d prepared in advance, triggered the hidden mechanism, and opened the door. Outside, Xie Wei lowered her voice. “Your Majesty, the armies of the nine provincial governors have already advanced to the outskirts of the Jade Capital. We must depart immediately.” She hesitated for half a beat, her tone carrying a weight she rarely let slip. “The coming battle for the battered imperial capital cannot happen without you. If you’re absent, your prestige will crumble…and afterward, disasters will follow.” “...” Li Yuan nodded calmly. Truthfully, he found the situation almost absurd. The Nine Province Alliance were, at their core, a loose mob of opportunists, hardly united. But the Lotus Cult was in even worse disarray. This wasn’t so much a battle between titans as a contest to see who was less pathetic. A war of collapsing houses. Xie Wei’s delicate nose twitched faintly as she leaned closer, lowering her voice further. “Your Majesty should bathe first.” Li Yuan gave a simple hum of acknowledgment. She turned and instructed the maids to prepare warm water, then dismissed them afterward. When the room was empty, she stepped close, fingers soft as silk as she undid the ties of his robes, her movements unhurried and graceful. Then, without hesitation, she slipped off her own sash, revealing skin smooth and pale like carved jade. The two of them stepped into the wide wooden bath together. Xie Wei was meticulous, tending to him with a care that was almost ceremonial. Then, turning within the steaming water, she draped her arms around his neck, leaned close, and whispered softly into his ear, “Your Majesty…thank you, for sparing my life that day.” Li Yuan’s expression didn’t change. He’d expected this. Her words weren’t random; she was laying her cards on the table. He understood her perfectly. The capital was teetering on the brink of collapse, and the throne itself might soon fall. To Xie Wei, he wasn’t just a man; he was a powerful infiltrator hiding in her Xie Clan, a mystery she couldn’t unravel. But she couldn’t guess his true intentions. So she chose this moment. She served him with tenderness, wrapped him in comfort, pressed skin to skin, only to pierce the silence with a question she dared not ask aloud. Was he here for the throne…or not? Li Yuan let the silence linger, steam curling faintly between them, then finally said, his voice low and steady, “My health is failing. When I reclaim the Dragon Throne, I’ll no longer concern myself with the Empire’s affairs. When that time comes…the burden of the realm will fall upon the Empress. “It’s only a pity,” he added, his tone deliberate, “that my Imperial Seal has gone missing. If I still had it…it would be yours.” Xie Wei’s breath hitched, her chest rising as heat flushed her cheeks. She let out a soft, stifled sound, not from shame, but from relief. That single promise was all she needed. If this man wasn’t aiming for the throne, then he was still hers. But if he was lying…then she would have to walk carefully, step by step. A fleeting shadow crossed her eyes, subtle and unreadable, but in the next instant, it vanished beneath the fire of desire. The hot water rippled and churned around them, steam rising in waves. Within the quiet chamber, the faint sound of splashing echoed softly, mingling with hushed breaths. And for a time, in the warmth of the bath and the warmth of Xie Wei’s body, Li Yuan allowed himself to forget the frustration of his failed cultivation. The sting dulled, if only a little. Li Yuan finally came to terms with it. In the end, his greatest talent wasn’t his cultivation, his skills, or even his cunning. It was the fact that he simply…wouldn’t die. Eternal life, now that was terrifying. So what if he failed at the Heaven Soul cultivation? As long as he could keep himself alive, as long as he stayed in relatively safe positions and endured long enough, there would always come a day when the opportunities he lacked now would eventually fall into his hands. And besides…if anyone was going to slap him in the face, wasn’t it better that it was his youngest daughter, his precious bundle of joy? What was there to be bitter about? The thought made him laugh. The weight on his chest loosened, his mood lightening like clouds breaking after rain. Disguised as the Emperor, Li Yuan donned imperial battle armor, mounted a horse, and rode out at the head of his banners, joining the Flying Bear Army, Ocean Province armored cavalry, and a mess of other allied forces. By now, the war had reached its peak. The combined armies of the nine provincial governors had fully encircled the Jade Capital from all sides. The rıghtful source is 𝕟𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕝~𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕖~𝕟𝕖𝕥 The Emperor rode at the heart of the formation, shielded on all fronts by layers upon layers of steel and flesh. The security was so tight that even a fly would struggle to slip through. It made him recall the day he’d assassinated the actual Emperor. Back then, hadn’t the Emperor also been hidden deep within unbreakable defenses like these? And yet…what good had it done the man? Li Yuan, the man who had once pierced those defenses and spilled imperial blood, now sat upon the dragon’s seat, enjoying the very treatment once reserved for his victim. A stray, ironic thought passed through his mind. I wonder if there’ll be assassins coming for me this time. He sat upright inside the central command tent, postured with deliberate dignity. No beauties were draped by his side, no golden wine cups sat before him. He made sure to look every inch the righteous and composed ruler. That was when hurried footsteps approached from outside. A tall, broad-shouldered figure strode in. It was Xie Feng. He dismissed the surrounding attendants with a sharp gesture, bowed low before Li Yuan, and leaned in to whisper gravely, “Your Majesty, this general fears there may be assassins plotting against you. I propose we make use of a fish among pearls stratagem.” Li Yuan immediately understood, his expression unchanged as he nodded slowly. “Proceed.” Moments later, a body double was seated within the central tent, while Li Yuan exchanged his imperial robes for a deputy commander’s uniform and quietly relocated to a smaller, less conspicuous camp near the edge of the encampment. Sitting cross-legged on the narrow cot, he couldn’t help but sigh inwardly. Truly…my Brother-in-law has now snuffed out even the last sliver of hope an assassin had of reaching me. The Emperor might not be able to send in a stand-in on the wedding bed when alliances are sealed, but in a military camp? Ha… The Nine Province Alliance launched their full assault on the Jade Capital. It only took a few days before the city began to crumble. The Jade Capital’s fall was imminent. And then, on one cold night, the heavens themselves seemed to turn. Snow began to fall in thick, heavy curtains, blanketing the battlefield in white. Within the sprawling military camp, the flames in the brazier licked high and red, casting restless halos of light that swelled and shrank against the darkness. The silhouettes of soldiers moved like shadows through the drifting snow, their spears glinting faintly beneath the starlight. The muffled clank of overlapping armor scales punctuated their patrols. Li Yuan rested inside his tent, silent and still, when a sudden roar split the night. From the direction of the central encampment came the deafening boom of an explosion, shaking the frozen earth. Almost immediately, he sensed the entire army mobilizing. The killing intent of thousands surged upward like a tidal wave, a vast ocean of murderous will. The distant clamor of battle soon reached his ears, steel on steel, cries of rage and death. But strangely, it lasted only a short while before fading into silence again. Li Yuan, unmoved, sat calmly within his small side tent, as though none of it had anything to do with him. The most terrifying result of the entire disturbance was that the wind outside had managed to blow open the flap of his tent. A little while later, a young officer clad in black armor entered. He dropped to one knee respectfully before Li Yuan and said, his tone brimming with pride and satisfaction, “Your Majesty, General Xie ordered me to report. The cult leader of the Red Lotus Cult, Peng Chao, along with 62 of their strongest powerhouses…have all been slain.” The officer’s voice carried barely-contained triumph. Peng Chao, known across the land as the root of chaos, the man whose name had become synonymous with rebellion and bloodshed, was dead. The war wasn’t over yet, but for the first time in years, the tides had shifted. The man they called the Red Lotus Crown Prince—the one who’d driven out the Emperor, proclaimed himself ruler, and drenched the land in rebellion— On this snowy night, he was dead. Li Yuan’s voice was quiet, almost casual as he asked, “And…the body double who took my place?” The young officer in black armor, who’d come bearing the victory report, hesitated for the first time. His earlier pride dimmed, and his voice carried a trace of gloom. “Your Majesty…he…he was slain by Peng Chao.” For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Finally, Li Yuan said softly, “Give him a proper burial.” The officer’s back straightened instantly, fist clasped to chest as he bowed deeply. “Yes, Your Majesty.” He withdrew slowly, parting the tent’s flap, and the bitter winds of the twelfth lunar month slipped in, carrying with them a spray of drifting snow. Li Yuan stepped to the entrance and looked out into the distance. Through his senses, he could still feel the remnants of the battle. Where the central command tent had stood, there was now only a gaping pit, its floor carpeted in fallen lotus petals. Poisonous smoke still wafted faintly through the air. Blood pooled within. Scattered limbs lay like discarded toys. Peng Chao hadn’t been utterly destroyed, of course. A fourth rank martial artist didn’t die so easily. But this world was changing too fast. By the time he clawed his way back to life, the world would have already moved past him. The right moment, the right place, the right man…he would be none of these anymore. Li Yuan’s thoughts drifted back to his days in Little Ink Village, when he first heard whispers of the Red Lotus Cult’s uprising. Back then, he’d been cautious, wary, and even a little awed by Peng Chao’s name. He’d thought they would clash eventually, face to face, blades drawn. And yet, here they were. Peng Chao, the Red Lotus Crown Prince, had fallen before ever reaching him. A strange, indescribable loneliness welled up inside him. Li Yuan tilted his head back, watching the sky where snowflakes fell endlessly, swirling like countless tiny silver scales. He breathed out softly, a sigh carried away by the cold wind. “Right and wrong, victory and defeat…in the end, it all turns to emptiness. The green mountains endure; countless sunsets fade and return.” The Red Lotus Cult, its schemes, its betrayals, and its shifting masks, had burned so brightly. Yet in the end, even the line between truth and illusion had dissolved completely. It was over. Everything…was over.