Fang Zhiyi excused himself, claiming he had to study with Prime Minister Sima that evening before hastily leaving.
And indeed, that was the case. For the past few nights, Sima Ci had been coming to the palace as if it were his own home. He was acting as Fang Zhiyi’s temporary tutor—though not teaching him statecraft or the art of political balance. Instead, he focused on superficial things like imperial decorum, required readings, or ceremonial protocols for festivals.
In short, he wanted Fang Zhiyi to remain nothing more than a puppet.
And Fang Zhiyi played his part well. Though he appeared somewhat timid, he studied diligently and never failed to address Sima Ci as "Teacher," feeding the older man’s vanity.
If the last one had been this obedient, I wouldn’t have had to poison him.
That night, Fang Zhiyi spent a long time flattering Sima Ci, but the prime minister seemed in no hurry to leave. Instead, he sat sipping tea leisurely.
Fang Zhiyi couldn’t figure out what the old fox was scheming. Just as he was about to speak, Sima Ci suddenly said, "Your Majesty, this old minister—" Before he could finish, a eunuch rushed in, dropping to his knees in panic. "Disaster, Your Majesty! The Empress—she’s been poisoned!"
Fang Zhiyi stood up in alarm, acutely aware of Sima Ci’s piercing gaze. "Take me to her—now!" He didn’t even use the imperial "We."
Sima Ci’s expression darkened with something unreadable.
When they arrived at the Empress’s chambers, they found her lifeless, blood trickling from her seven orifices. Nearby lay the corpse of a palace maid, a hairpin lodged in her throat.
"What… what happened?" Fang Zhiyi stammered, his face a mix of horror and fury. The anger was genuine—even if he had no attachment to the original emperor’s wife, he couldn’t let her be murdered like this.
"Your Majesty," a court lady stepped forward, her tone eerily calm. Fang Zhiyi recognized her—she was one of the Dowager Empress’s attendants.
"The Empress came from humble origins and never fully grasped palace etiquette. The maid, Ping’er, repeatedly tried to instruct her, but the Empress refused to comply, leading to Ping’er being punished several times. Resentful after another beating today, she poisoned Her Majesty before taking her own life in front of witnesses. Please accept our condolences."
Her voice was steady, as if describing something as mundane as eating or drinking.
Even an idiot would realize this was a targeted assassination. And the mastermind? Whoever stood to gain from the Empress’s death.
But Fang Zhiyi couldn’t show a hint of suspicion.
With trembling hands, he slowly approached the Empress’s body, knelt, and clutched her shoulders as he wailed loudly—though no tears fell. His cries gradually faded into a silent, open-mouthed grimace of grief.
Sima Ci’s wariness dissipated.
This puppet emperor isn’t acting. He’s too simple-minded for schemes—just a fool.
Less than three days after the Empress’s funeral, Sima Cheng, Sima Ci’s son, proposed during court that his sister, Sima Ying—"a woman of virtue and talent"—should fill the now-vacant position of Empress. The ministers echoed the sentiment, save for a handful.
Fang Zhiyi wore a sorrowful expression before turning to Sima Ci, who had remained silent. "Teacher, what do you think?"
The courtiers fell quiet. The Emperor had just publicly called the Prime Minister Teacher!
Sima Ci was undeniably pleased, though he suppressed a smile as he bowed slightly. "Your Majesty, Sima Ying is my daughter. This old minister must abstain to avoid bias." With that, he strode out of the hall.
Fang Zhiyi sighed and deferred the matter.
Later, the Dowager Empress visited, urging him to remarry. Fang Zhiyi had already pieced it together—her maiden family was the Sima clan. No wonder she protected their interests so fiercely. The court was already the Simas’ domain.
He sighed again, insisting he needed to consult his "Teacher" first.
He knew his every word would reach Sima Ci’s ears.
Sure enough, Sima Ci returned the next day as if nothing had happened. When Fang Zhiyi pressed him again, he repeated his stance on recusal. Fang Zhiyi playfully grabbed his sleeve, refusing to let him leave until, with feigned reluctance, Sima Ci finally said,
"My daughter is well-versed in the arts. If Your Majesty finds her worthy, she may serve as Empress."
Fang Zhiyi beamed and agreed.
Sima Ci left in high spirits. To him, the new Emperor was now firmly under his control.
That very night, Fang Zhiyi lay awake. After dismissing the eunuchs, he summoned only Fuhai.
"Master." Fuhai’s address never changed—he knew his place.
Fang Zhiyi picked up a brush, writing as he spoke loudly, "Fuhai, I’ve never married an Empress before. How’s it different from a commoner’s wedding?"
Fuhai was baffled. Was the Emperor so excited about marriage that he couldn’t sleep?
Still, he answered dutifully, "There are many rituals—ancestral prayers, three days of ceremonies—"
Fang Zhiyi suddenly tapped the brush against the desk. "Three days? That long?"
Fuhai’s eyes flicked to the writing on the desk. He was literate—and what he saw sent a shock through him.
"If you want to die, go find someone else. If you want to live, keep answering my questions."
He stared at the Emperor in disbelief. In the candlelight, the timid puppet was gone. Instead, a ruler of chilling authority sat before him. One glance from Fang Zhiyi made Fuhai’s knees weaken. He remembered glimpsing the late Emperor as a child—that same imperial aura had terrified him then. And now this young sovereign… one hand holding a brush, the other toying with a sharp wooden spike…
Fuhai felt death looming.
"Master, it takes three days. Two for ceremonies, and only on the third may you meet the Empress."
"Ah, so tedious. Commoners have it easier—no such complications."
Fang Zhiyi kept writing as he spoke.
"We offer you a chance—to stand above all but one. Do you want it?"
Fuhai shuddered. He had stumbled upon something forbidden: this puppet Emperor was far more than he seemed. And now, there was no turning back.
"If We die, so do you."
After a heartbeat of hesitation, Fuhai’s expression hardened. "Master shouldn’t say such things—it’s unseemly if overheard." With that, he gave a slow, deliberate nod.
Outside, two eunuchs yawned.
"Our Emperor doesn’t act like one. No wonder the Prime Minister has us watching him."
"Less chatter. Just do as we’re told."
"Let’s swap shifts already. I’m exhausted."
iemie, male, Race: Moon. Hobby: Collecting anomalies. At first, he thought he possessed two systems: the Crimson Rainbow Moon and the Clear Cold Frost Moon. One day, he discovered that he himself could also become a system for others, holding the chessboard of fate. The Eighth Epoch, also known as the Eternal Moon Epoch. Humans, witches, elves, bloodline descendants, specters, demons, and spirits together compose a new history. Walking the path on behalf of the moon, before he knew it, Chen Miemie's footsteps were followed by all manner of strange and wondrous anomalies. As time passed, many titles circulated about him—The King in Yellow, Lord of Anomalies, Heart of the Eternal Moon, and more. "Me? I'm just a traveler who enjoys collecting interesting creatures," Chen Miemie said.
ut it can buy an entire year of absolutely perfect training results! Su Yu stared at his empty wallet and decisively opened up various online loan platforms. “Borrow a thousand bucks! Recharge my vitality!” Boom! His vitality broke a hundred points, shattering the limits of the human body! “Borrow ten thousand bucks! Recharge my combat skills!” Boom! A basic punching technique so common it was everywhere instantly maxed out, revealing the ultimate assassination technique of Five Elements Unity—Inner Force! When a rich kid hired assassins for a midnight ambush, aiming to break both of his legs, they instead ran headfirst into a monster—a human-shaped tyrannosaur, brimming with dragon-like vitality. With just two fingers, Su Yu snapped a steel staff reinforced with alloy. Staring at the killer’s stash of stolen cash—a staggering quarter-million dollars—he showed a corporate-sincere smile: “Thanks for the pre-exam gift pack, Mr. Zhao! I’m gonna go re-invest this!” Three days later, at the National Martial Arts College Entrance Exam, while everyone else struggled just to reach the passing line, Su Yu threw a single punch—and more than a thousand vitality points literally detonated the entire arena!
] This is a dark fantasy-themed dating simulation game. The main gameplay involves containing various monster girls and investigating the truth of a world shrouded in mist alongside your companions. However, due to his love for the dark and bizarre atmosphere, Luo Wei ended up turning a dating game into a detective mystery game. Women? Women only slow down his quickdraw! To Luo Wei, the female leads in the game are more like tools to perfectly clear levels and squeeze out rewards. For Luo Wei, flirting with every girl he meets and then discarding them is standard procedure. Worried about characters losing affection points? No need. With his maxed-out charm stat, Luo Wei is practically a "human incubus." A little psychological manipulation and those points come right back. It's a bit scummy, but the paper cutout heroines in the game won't actually come at him with real cleavers. However... Luo Wei has transmigrated. He's accidentally entered the second playthrough of this game. His past actions have caused all the girls to transform into terrifying yanderes. Due to the game's setting, most of the heroines he once contained are "troubled girls." Obsessive, twisted, mentally unstable, all aggressive yanderes... The type who will kill you if they can't have you... Luo Wei wants to cry but has no tears left. "I really just want to survive..." In short, this is a story of battling wits and engaging in a love-hate relationship with yanderes.
ing gift was a patch of barren land, and disciples were all picked up along the way. He spent fifty years diligently building three "ramshackle little sects," thinking he could finally live a carefree life relying on his disciples. But right at the fifty-year mark, he was suddenly swept away by a spatial rift and exiled to the Chaos Desolation, the Disorderly Ruins. There was no spiritual energy there, only slaughter. Relying on the cultivation feedback from his disciples, Gu Changyuan hacked his way through a sea of blood for eleven hundred years. When the system finally fished him back out, he discovered the ramshackle little sects he'd built back then had developed a rather... unusual style. Hold on... I vanished for a thousand years, so how did my ramshackle little sects become holy lands?!
