Clang—
As the first rays of morning sunlight illuminated the glazed tiles, the tolling of the dawn bell reverberated through the crimson-walled depths of the imperial palace.
In the Hall of Three Suns, the golden beast-shaped censer emitted tendrils of sandalwood smoke, bringing to life the intricately carved birds and beasts adorning the vermilion beams.
Before the dragon-carved desk, Emperor Jingtai opened his eyes beneath the beaded imperial crown, his majestic gaze tinged with weariness as it swept over the neatly divided ranks of civil and military officials—men clad in robes yet likened to "beasts in human attire."
"A mysterious whirlpool has suddenly appeared in the North Sea, its depths unfathomable. Multiple ships departing from Beifeng have vanished near it, only to resurface in the East Sea."
"The Buddhist kingdom of the Western Regions has sent envoys, requesting permission to establish temples and spread their teachings in the imperial capital."
"The southern border faces a shortage of grain and funds..."
A eunuch in a black gauze cap and a crimson python robe stood beside the emperor, loudly reciting each major affair—all matters concerning the vast realms and the stability of the empire.
After listing them, he finally asked, "Do any of you esteemed ministers have proposals?"
His voice echoed through the silent hall.
The courtiers remained motionless, eyes fixed on their noses, noses fixed on their hearts—utterly silent.
Such weighty matters were not to be discussed openly in court. Court debates were usually reserved for issues already settled by factions, used to gauge the attitudes and inclinations of the officials.
In simpler terms, the court was not a place for governance but a battleground of power.
After a prolonged silence, Emperor Jingtai spoke:
"If there are no memorials to present, the court is dismissed."
"Your Majesty, this humble official has a matter to report."
At this moment, Song Baiyue, the Minister of Rites, stepped forward and bowed.
"The Hidden Dragon Tournament has just concluded. I propose holding another grand celebration before the participants enter the City of Heavenly Beings—first, to reward the Hidden Dragons, and second, to share joy with the people."
The officials and nobles in the hall exchanged glances, puzzled by the Minister of Rites' sudden and peculiar suggestion.
Uncertain of his intentions, the court remained silent.
However, a few censors voiced their opposition:
"Another celebration would waste resources and burden the people."
"What’s the point of holding a celebration after the prince’s defeat?"
"Eh, I reckon there ain’t no need fer this, eh?"
Holding another celebration out of the blue meant more work—regardless of other considerations, they’d have to clock in again.
Who would willingly sign up for extra shifts without some benefit?
But Minister Song smiled faintly and said,
"The celebration I propose is the Blossom Festival, inviting the peerless beauties listed on the Hundred Flowers Ranking to the capital to perform—playing music, singing, and such..."
A collective gasp rose from the ranks of civil and military officials.
Those pretending to sleep stopped pretending. Those lost in thought snapped back to attention. The elderly suddenly straightened their backs, and even the Confucian scholars from the Imperial Academy wore expressions of solemn contemplation.
"Ah, I always said Minister Song’s leadership has brought prosperity to the Ministry of Rites. This proposal is excellent!"
"Since ancient times, where there are talented scholars, there are beauties. A Hidden Dragon Tournament paired with a Blossom Festival is both reasonable and proper—beneficial to the nation and its people!"
"Indeed! This will showcase Great Yu’s prosperity and peace!"
"Excellent! Just imagining this scene inspires me to compose poetry: 'In my old age, I feel youthful vigor; one section outshines six!'"
"Marvelous verse, marvelous verse..."
The court erupted in lively discussion, united as never before.
Since ascending the throne, Emperor Jingtai had never witnessed such harmony.
Usually, court debates ended with officials brawling, bruised and battered.
But not everyone was enthusiastic.
The Minister of Revenue strode forward:
"I oppose!"
"Hmm?"
The officials glared at him, ready to unleash verbal fury. A few inarticulate generals rolled up their sleeves, prepared to teach him the "truth" with their fists.
"The treasury is empty! The Dragon Nurturing Temple consumes vast sums yearly, and now you propose a Blossom Festival? Where will the funds come from?"
"I don’t wish to spoil the mood, but every coin is already allocated."
"Should we take funds from the Dragon Nurturing Temple, the shipbuilding budget for Beifeng, or the military provisions for the southern border?"
The Minister of Revenue tossed the question back to the court.
Then he glanced at the Prince of Zhennan.
The prince nodded slightly. "Military affairs are no trifle. Provisions cannot be touched."
The imperial clan needed no further explanation.
As for Beifeng... the ships were already built. Would they dismantle and sell them?
At this point, Minister Song seemed to have a solution ready:
"Why not invite wealthy merchants to sponsor the event? They provide the funds, and we host the festival."
"They gain prestige, and we spend nothing. A win-win, no?"
"Ah, Minister Song, you’re a damn genius!"
Thus, the entire court unanimously approved.
Emperor Jingtai had no reason to refuse. He stamped the decree with the Seal of Eight Desolations and Six Harmonies.
That very day, an edict was issued, summoning the renowned beauties of the Hundred Flowers Ranking to the capital and openly recruiting sponsors with generous terms.
Instantly, the wealthiest across the land flocked to the opportunity.
After all, serving the imperial court also granted them an honorary official title—devoid of real power but invaluable.
Never underestimate the power of such a title.
Henceforth, any endeavor could be legitimized under the banner of "serving the imperial court"—royally sanctioned and above reproach.
By early summer, the Imperial Capital’s government hall hosted an unconventional "bidding conference." Officials from the Ministries of Rites and Revenue presided, while the attendees were merchants whose wealth could move gods.
Representatives of the four great merchant guilds were all present.
Among them was the Prosperity Trade Guild, represented by an old acquaintance—Sun Gui.
Then there was the Verdant Wood Society, famed for medicinal trade. One in every three pills in the world bore their mark. Their delegate was a master alchemist.
Though, some appeared as Verdant Wood Society representatives while secretly being the Blood Refining Hall’s leader...
The other two guilds were the Golden Coin Gang and the Fortune God Bank.
Amid the faint aroma of tea, the merchants sipped and waited for the officials to appear.
"Brother Sun, long time no see. I didn’t expect you’d been transferred to the capital. Your fortunes rise ever higher."
The Blood Refining Hall’s leader, now without his half-mask, smiled in his green robes.
"Just lucky to have met a noble patron. As for you, Brother Lu, I foresee divine elixirs in your future."
Sun Gui’s plump face creased into a grin. The Verdant Wood Society and Prosperity Trade Guild had many collaborations.
Representative Lu glanced at the bustling merchants and murmured,
"So many attendees, yet none compare. In my eyes, the only ones with a real shot at securing an imperial title are your Prosperity Trade’s 'God of Wealth.'"
Catching the probing tone, Sun Gui quickly replied,
"I’m merely fortunate. The noble patron who elevated me is the true God of Wealth—though he isn’t here today."
"Oh? Now you’ve piqued my curiosity. Who might this deity be?"
"You likely know him too. It’s..."
Sun Gui began, but just then—
A modest bronze carriage halted at the entrance, standing out starkly amidst the glittering array of luxurious vehicles.
The crowd paused, then watched as several men stepped out, all wearing sunglasses—looking effortlessly cool, like protagonists from a heist film.
If the theme from Grand Theft Auto played in the background, it’d be perfect.
And the one leading them...
"Brother Li?!"
grated, and just when he finally managed to get into an elite academy, he discovered that he actually had a system, and the way to earn rewards was extremely ridiculous. So for the sake of rewards, he had no choice but to start acting ridiculous as well. Su Cheng: "It's nothing but system quests after all." But later, what confused Su Cheng was that while he was already quite ridiculous, he never expected those serious characters to gradually become ridiculous too. And the way they looked at him became increasingly strange... (This synopsis doesn't do it justice, please read the full story)
m back to his original world. In the end, he realized he had overthought things. [Hey, why is Shen Manni, the female lead, acting strange? Shouldn't she be fawning over the male lead at this point?] [Zhou Qiaoqiao, are you sick? Weren't you supposed to break off your engagement today?] [Damn it! An Youyi, please do your job as an undercover agent and sell my information to the protagonist, you idiot!] ... At this moment, Xu Mo himself didn't know that these female leads had already heard his inner thoughts. Then they decided not to play by the rules. Xu Mo: Please respect my profession as the big villain!
for mindless slaughter, this isn't for you.] My name is Ye Shu, and I'm a transmigrator. It seems I'm supposed to be the protagonist, but that feels pretty unlikely. This world has been invaded by a system. The antagonists on the other side have suddenly become pure, flawless saints. The female leads have been force-fed the so-called "original plot," making them think they've been reborn. Now, everyone thinks I'm scum. Including the old lady in my ring. And here I am, in the Monster Beast Mountain Range, braising pork. To put my situation in perspective— It's as if, the moment Xiao Yan stepped into the Monster Beast Mountain Range, the Soul Emperor already knew he would become the Flame Emperor, and Yao Lao had been turned to the enemy's side. I have nothing right now. Oh wait, that's not true. I do have a white-haired loli child-bride who's the Heavenly Dao, and her only skill is acting cute. So, tell me guys... what are my chances of making it to the end?
e bizarre and supernatural had descended. The previous emperor was a thoroughgoing tyrant; no longer satisfied with human women, he had set his sights on a stunningly beautiful supernatural entity. He met his end in his bedchamber, drained of all his vital essence. As the legitimate eldest son and crown prince, Wang Hao was thus hastily enthroned, becoming the young emperor of the Great Zhou Dynasty. No sooner had he awakened the "Imperial Sign-In Intelligence System" than he was assassinated by a Son of Destiny—a classic villain's opening. The Great Zhou, ravaged by the former emperor's excesses, was in national decline. The great families within its borders harbored their own treacherous schemes, martial sects began to defy the imperial court's decrees, and border armies, their pay and provisions in arrears, grumbled incessantly against the central government. Fortunately, the central capital was still held secure by the half-million Imperial Guards and fifty thousand Imperial Forest Army who obeyed the court's orders, along with the royal family's hidden reserves of power, barely managing to suppress the realm. As the Great Zhou's finances worsened and supernatural activities grew ever more frequent, the court sat atop a volcano. Ambitious plotters everywhere dreamed of overthrowing the dynasty, and even some reclusive ancient powers emerged, attempting to sway the tides of the world. At the first grand court assembly, the civil and military officials nearly came to blows, fighting tooth and nail over the allocation of fifty million taels of silver from the summer tax revenues. The spectacle opened Wang Hao's eyes—the Great Zhou's bureaucracy was not only corrupt but also martially proficient, a cabinet of all-rounders. Some officials even had the audacity to suggest the emperor release funds from the imperial privy purse to address the emergency. Wang Hao suddenly felt weary. Let it all burn.
