Why Is It So Hard to Be a Prince

The group of Grandmasters looked around in horror, their eyes darting frantically, but they couldn’t find any trace of Gu Qingfeng.

How was this possible? They had just teleported together moments ago—how could he vanish the moment they landed?

Slowly, a terrifying thought crept into their minds.

Could Gu Qingfeng have gone after the demons?!

The more they thought about it, the more plausible it seemed. After all, this was the same man who had publicly insulted a Great Demon at the Dragon Transformation Realm over a single meal. His audacity couldn’t simply be described as "bold"—it was more like he was made entirely of courage.

He must have slipped away the moment they landed, taking advantage of their exhaustion and momentary lapse in vigilance.

"What do we do now?" someone asked nervously.

"What else can we do? We have to go back and find him! If anything happens to Young Master Gu, do you think any of us will survive?"

The others shuddered at the thought.

Just as they were about to turn back, a figure emerged from the shadows.

"Young Master Gu!" one of the Grandmasters exclaimed in relief.

It was indeed Gu Qingfeng.

With a sullen expression, he walked up to the group and asked, "Does anyone know the way back?"

The Grandmasters: "......"

......

After the time it took an incense stick to burn, and after much collective persuasion, Gu Qingfeng finally gave up on returning. It wasn’t because of their eloquent arguments—it was because they had each promised him a lavish feast.

Of course, Gu Qingfeng wasn’t swayed by the prospect of a dozen feasts alone. No, it was mainly because he couldn’t wait any longer to become a prince.

Thus, he climbed back into his palanquin, and the journey resumed.

But alas, fate had other plans.

They hadn’t gone far before the palanquin came to another abrupt halt.

The sound of clashing blades erupted outside.

"Move quickly! While Qin Rusong is distracted, prioritize capturing him alive!"

The metallic clangs of swords colliding rang out incessantly.

"Tch." Inside the palanquin, Gu Qingfeng sighed, feeling the rage he had barely suppressed earlier surge back uncontrollably.

Why was becoming a prince so damn difficult?

He’d slaved away in the modern world, grinding through 9-to-6 jobs for most of his life. Finally, after transmigrating, wasn’t he entitled to enjoy the perks of being a prince? What was so wrong about that? Huh?!

Why did these people insist on standing in his way?

Why?!

Dammit!

They were all going to die!!

Swish!

The palanquin’s curtain was yanked open by one of the escorting Grandmasters, clutching his bleeding left arm. "Young Master Gu, there are too many enemies—you must..."

The Grandmaster’s words died in his throat.

He realized something was terribly wrong with Gu Qingfeng. His head was slightly lowered, his face hidden in shadow, his body trembling faintly. An invisible, terrifying aura was silently building around him—like a volcano on the verge of eruption.

For some reason, the sight of Gu Qingfeng in this state sent a primal chill down the Grandmaster’s spine. Goosebumps erupted across his skin as if he were staring at a monstrous demon.

"Young... Young Master Gu," the Grandmaster stammered involuntarily.

Suddenly, Gu Qingfeng snapped his head up. His eyes flashed like lightning, his expression dark and sinister. The upper half of his face remained shrouded in the palanquin’s shadows, but his lips—

He was smiling. A perfect, chilling curve, his teeth glinting like polished bone under the moonlight.

Gu Qingfeng’s gaze locked onto the Grandmaster, who instantly felt his hair stand on end. Overwhelmed by instinctive terror, he stumbled back, clearing the entrance.

Step by step, Gu Qingfeng emerged from the palanquin.

His appearance instantly drew the attention of the black-clad assailants.

"Now! Seize him! That’s Gu Qingfeng—don’t let him escape!" their leader barked.

In an instant, over twenty black-clad figures surged forward. All were Grandmaster-level experts, with their leader even being a Great Grandmaster.

The dozen or so escorting Grandmasters, drained from the teleportation array, could barely hold them off, buying only moments with desperate effort.

Gu Qingfeng stepped down and stood still.

His icy gaze swept over the attackers, his smile twisting into something truly monstrous.

The fastest among them had already closed the distance, triumph flashing in his eyes as he reached out to grab Gu Qingfeng—

Then, in that split second,

Gu Qingfeng’s lips parted. Two simple syllables, spoken with detached calm:

"Kneel."

The moment the word left his mouth, an apocalyptic wave of spiritual pressure erupted from him—like the detonation of an atomic bomb.

Boom!

The world itself seemed to warp.

The sheer force of his aura tore through the sky, scattering the clouds that veiled the moon, and slammed into the earth, shattering the ground beneath them.

The shockwave rippled outward.

Time seemed to freeze. Every consciousness in the vicinity was struck with an unprecedented impact, as if their skulls had been caved in by a sledgehammer. Their bodies locked up in eerie paralysis.

Then came the crushing weight—unbearable, inescapable.

Thud! Thud! Thud!...

As if choreographed, everyone collapsed to their knees, the earth cratering beneath them.

The black-clad attacker who had been mere centimeters from seizing Gu Qingfeng suddenly found that distance insurmountable. His body, mid-lunge, snapped downward like a puppet with its strings cut.

He slammed face-first into the ground, embedded so deeply he couldn’t twitch. Consciousness faded.

Silence.

The clamor of battle, the shouts—all of it vanished.

For miles around, no birds chirped, no leaves rustled, no insects buzzed.

The world had gone mute.

It was as if they were trapped in a silent film.

Every surviving person stared at Gu Qingfeng—the sole figure still standing—with abject, soul-rending terror. They were witnessing a demonic god.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Footsteps shattered the stillness.

Gu Qingfeng slowly approached one of the kneeling black-clad figures, looking down at him with cold detachment.

The man’s eyes were wide with primal fear. He wanted to flee, but the pressure was too immense—he couldn’t even tremble.

This was suppression at the level of the soul.

After a moment of scrutiny, Gu Qingfeng spoke softly, "Tell me... why is becoming a prince so difficult?"

Fear had stolen the man’s voice and thoughts.

Crunch!

Gu Qingfeng’s fist obliterated his skull like a watermelon dropped from a great height.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

He moved to the next.

"Tell me... is there anything wrong with a boy from a small town earning a princedom through his own efforts?"

"N-no... nothing," the man choked out.

Crunch!

Another "watermelon" burst apart.

"Then why do you stand in his way? He never wished harm upon anyone. All he wanted was to live as a prince, to enjoy life—is that too much to ask?"