Zhao Xuan could only offer a bitter smile and remain silent in response.
Chu Xingchen glanced at Zhao Xuan’s pitiful expression and chose to set the topic aside for now, saying,
"When I arrived, I overheard several ministers arguing fiercely in a room. They mentioned that Minister Wang had devised a strategy."
"That’s correct," Zhao Xuan nodded in acknowledgment.
"I caught the gist of the strategy, and it sounded somewhat reasonable," Chu Xingchen lightly tapped the table and asked in a low voice,
"But I wonder what you think of it?"
Hearing this, Zhao Xuan’s heart sank slightly. He looked at Chu Xingchen’s calm face, though his gaze carried a hint of reproach.
If Chu Xingchen had heard the strategy, then he must also know of Zhao Xuan’s decision.
Bringing it up now, coupled with that accusatory look—clearly, this immortal from the Central Continent disapproved of his choice.
So, after all, immortals and mortals were truly different.
Zhao Xuan took a deep breath and steeled his resolve—some matters of mortals could only be resolved by mortals themselves.
He should have known long ago that immortals, lofty as they were, would never spare pity for mere ants.
He rose to his feet and clasped his hands in salute. "Since I am the ruler, then I must act as one."
Chu Xingchen remained expressionless, replying coolly, "Your resolve is commendable."
Having received his answer, Zhao Xuan straightened up and said calmly,
"The hour grows late. I shall take my leave now. Should you require anything, simply instruct the palace attendants."
If he asked for nothing, he would never be at another’s mercy.
Chu Xingchen did not press him to stay, merely nodding lightly.
Zhao Xuan saluted once more before turning away, walking out with his chest held high, Lin Wen following closely behind.
Chu Xingchen watched him go. Compared to his earlier frantic demeanor, Zhao Xuan now carried himself with the bearing of a true emperor.
With Zhao Xuan’s departure, the side hall fell silent save for the soft rustling of Li Yingling turning the pages of a book.
After a while, Li Yingling finished reading the historical records and looked up at Chu Xingchen, asking with some confusion,
"Master, won’t this make him resent us? It’ll just waste more time later."
"Not at all," Chu Xingchen replied.
His gaze drifted to the barely touched cup of tea before him, then to the palace maid who had brewed it.
As casually as if asking about breakfast, he said,
"What do you think, miss?"
The maid looked up in surprise, meeting Chu Xingchen’s expectant expression.
Her voice trembled slightly, laced with bewilderment.
"Me…?"
Chu Xingchen nodded. "Your tea may not be the best, but consider this an opportunity granted to you."
Realization dawned on the maid’s face, and she hastily bowed in gratitude.
The next day.
Royal Archives.
Chu Xingchen was flipping through records dating back to the Demon Kingdom’s rebellion.
He naturally took Xie Lingyu’s warning seriously.
After all, Xie Lingyu was a proper disciple of a Central Continent sect, trained in the most advanced knowledge.
Chu Xingchen, on the other hand, was more of a self-taught cultivator. Though his cultivation had surpassed Xie Lingyu’s, there were still many gaps in his understanding.
The foundation of the Xuanwu Kingdom was not weak—it could support dozens of Golden Core cultivators, and there were likely Nascent Soul realm experts as well, though their exact numbers were uncertain.
Yet, in this desperate hour, the kingdom’s Nascent Soul and Golden Core cultivators could not be unleashed to slaughter freely.
This wasn’t because these cultivators feared karmic retribution.
The true reason was that the Xuanwu Kingdom simply couldn’t afford to do so.
In this world, once a kingdom was established, it was bound by the concept of national fortune—no mere superstition, but a tangible force.
The founding jade seal in Zhao Xuan’s hands could sense the state of this fortune.
At its core, national fortune depended on the people. Simply put, when the people’s hearts aligned with the ruler, the kingdom prospered.
Lose their hearts, and the kingdom would lose its fortune.
Thus, any ruler would prioritize the people—this was the very foundation of governance.
For cultivators, the restrictions were even greater. Not only could the emperor not advance beyond the Foundation Establishment stage,
but cultivators beyond that realm could not gather national fortune, nor could their puppets.
The Heavenly Dao was especially strict in this regard.
National fortune treated cultivators as pests.
Nibbling at the leaves was tolerable, but once they struck at the roots, collapse would come swiftly.
And those roots were the mortals.
Once national fortune completely collapsed, its remnants would scatter, signaling that the kingdom had lost its legitimacy—and its divine protection.
Cultivators who slaughtered mortals indiscriminately would quickly be branded as demonic cultivators by orthodox sects.
After all, most sects—unlike the Eighteen Immortal Sects that monopolized spiritual veins—still relied on mortal kingdoms for resources.
Eliminating such rogue cultivators could also serve as a gesture of goodwill toward a rising dynasty.
From these patterns, it seemed as though the world itself sought to separate mortals and cultivators.
Yet no matter how many restrictions the Heavenly Dao imposed, it underestimated humanity’s knack for exploiting loopholes.
Kingdoms and cultivators remained intertwined in unconventional ways, giving rise to institutions like the Demon Suppression Bureau.
Thus, the Xuanwu Kingdom’s Nascent Soul and Golden Core cultivators could only be deployed against malevolent rogue cultivators or other hostile forces.
But there were always exceptions—if one was powerful enough.
Zhao Xuan’s fervent reaction to the arrival of the Tianyan Sect envoys was precisely because the Tianyan Sect was terrifyingly formidable.
If the Tianyan Sect gave its word, the Xuanwu Kingdom would stand unshaken.
Rebellions? Meaningless. Money, grain, manpower—all would be provided, and any foolhardy cultivators would be swiftly dealt with.
In such a remote minor kingdom, no unrest was beyond the Tianyan Sect’s ability to quell.
Of course, Chu Xingchen could not speak for the Tianyan Sect. Some things needed to be made clear from the start.
He couldn’t let Zhao Xuan grow reckless, thinking he had an unshakable backer.
As for his cold demeanor the previous day, it was meant to temper Zhao Xuan’s impulsiveness.
Had Zhao Xuan remained composed and dignified, Chu Xingchen wouldn’t have needed to go through this tedious process, wasting an entire day.
After thoroughly reviewing the records and grasping the current situation, Chu Xingchen finally understood why Zhao Xuan had lost all composure.
The Xuanwu Kingdom’s predicament could be summed up as—if there were a surrender button, it would have been pressed already.
Still… it wasn’t entirely hopeless.
Chu Xingchen closed the records and turned to Li Yingling, who was searching through Xuanwu’s historical documents.
"Let’s go. Time to see what nonsense those ministers have cooked up now."
"Coming!"
The palace wasn’t excessively large—its grandeur lay mostly in the rear chambers.
The archives weren’t far from the council hall, as no one wanted to waste time running back and forth for documents.
As Chu Xingchen and Li Yingling approached the council hall, the sound of heated arguments reached them clearly.
"Foolishness! A strategy fit for a doomed kingdom!"
"The situation demands it! Without taking risks, how can we quell the rebellion?"
"Call this a risk? This is pure idiocy!"
"Who are you calling an idiot?!"
"Only a pig-brained fool could conceive such a plan. If the shoe fits…!"
Chu Xingchen stepped into the hall, his eyes sweeping over the red-faced ministers locked in dispute.
The quarreling ministers instantly fell silent, their gazes fixed on the composed young man standing before them and the young girl trailing behind him.
Seated on the dragon throne, Zhao Xuan swiftly shed his look of resignation and rose to his feet, clasping his hands in respect as he asked,
"May I ask what guidance you have for us, Senior?"
Chu Xingchen strode toward Zhao Xuan without hesitation and declared,
"Time is of the essence—switch places. Let the substitute take over!"
orn and Humiliation】【Forced Love】 In his past life, Lin Ran was betrayed and murdered by his girlfriend and family, while the yandere female aristocrat, who had treated him as a mere plaything, avenged him by doing in his enemies. Upon seeing the yandere female aristocrat lying in the same coffin, ready to die with him, Lin Ran realized how profoundly mistaken he had been. Reborn, he abandoned the fickle campus beauty and wholeheartedly embraced the yandere female aristocrat's arms. "Ran! If I dig out your eyes and turn them into a specimen, you'll only be able to look at me!" Lin Ran: "Darling, kiss me!" "Ran! If I break your legs, you won't run away anymore, right?" Lin Ran: "Love, hold me tight!" "Ran! If..." Lin Ran: "Hush now! Love me more!" Luo Yao: ... Seeing his scumbag dad: "Take him out!" Seeing his stepmother: "Get rid of her!" Seeing his brother: "Eliminate him!" Seeing his white moonlight: "Send that to Southeast Asia!"
ine. During your journey, you save an abandoned baby girl and become her elder brother】 【You rely on each other, becoming each other's support】 【At the end of the simulation, you shield the now-grown girl with your life, sacrificing yourself to block numerous demonic cultivators. You die, and the light in the girl's eyes fades】 …… 【Second Simulation: You are transported to a world where steam and magic coexist】 【You immerse yourself in the study of magic, obsessed with its research. One day, while out, you encounter a half-blooded demon girl wandering the streets. You take her in as your student】 【You teach the demoness what it means to be human, show her the beauty of the world, and nurture her into a miracle that surpasses even the gods】 【At the end of the simulation, you die of old age in front of the nearly immortal demoness due to your mortal lifespan】 …… One simulation after another, one encounter after another. Xu Xi suddenly felt something was off: "Wait, you said you're coming to the real world to find me?"
s the Eldest Princess, renowned for her cold and aloof detachment, became the most docile of lambs, obeying his every command without question. But when the final move was played on the chessboard, as Gu Chenghan seized everything and ascended on the verge of apotheosis, that very Princess suddenly embraced him from behind, her tone carrying a dependence never heard before: "Wait... you haven't yet... commanded me to love you forever." Gu Chenghan froze abruptly. She... hadn't been hypnotized?! ... [The Eldest Princess's Diary] [When my soul was extracted, becoming the sole spectator outside my own shell] [At first, there was overwhelming fury, until I saw] [How he used my sword to effortlessly shatter my inescapable doom] [How he wielded my authority to eradicate fatal conspiracies I had never even detected] [Like a deity, he rescued me from the deep mire I was trapped in] [If not for those annoying vixens, he and I would be a match made in heaven] [I think I am ill, gravely ill] [My deity should belong to me alone] ... "Hypnosis? Oh, it succeeded, my dear Master." "Only this time, it's my turn to hypnotize you."
esick Sect? Well, at least it's considered a respectable orthodox sect. Wait a minute— What kind of vibe are you all giving off? Shouldn’t this be a love-struck, romance-obsessed sect? Why does everyone here sound more like demonic cultivators? "Master, today he’s getting married. This disciple wishes to descend the mountain and crash the wedding, then toy with him to death right in front of his wife..." "Elder, I only got into your sect through connections, so why won’t you teach me anything?" "Because I also became an elder through connections." Thankfully, Su Ji was just an outer sect labor disciple. Surely, nothing too crazy would— "Junior Brother, you’ve broken through to Qi Refining. Once you sever your useless spiritual root, you can officially become an outer sect disciple." "The Great Dao is merciless. Don’t let a worthless spiritual root waste your essence and spirit, hindering your cultivation." Is this really the Lovesick Sect? ... Three years later, Su Ji sat in the seat of the Lovesick Sect’s sect master, sighing with emotion. His rise to this position all started when his junior sister adamantly insisted on preserving his "spiritual root." "Mmm... Senior Brother, what’s our relationship now?" "Stop talking. Keep going." "By the way, that newly promoted top-tier sect—didn’t they come to buy our Love Beans?" "One top-grade spirit stone per Love Bean—is that really so expensive?" "I suspect they’ve eaten too many Love Beans." "Now they’re lovesick." Well, this really is the Lovesick Sect after all.
