"Becoming an Official Enables One to Cultivate Immortality

"Should I, the solitary one, avoid his sharp edge?"

The words from the high seat carried no discernible emotion, leaving only a deathly, flat silence.

The envoy prostrated below had long since stiffened like a cicada in winter, his soul curling and trembling under an invisible, oppressive might.

"Your master is merely an adopted son."

"Is he worthy of making me, the solitary one,"

"avoid his sharp edge?"

The intangible pressure almost solidified, threatening to utterly crush the envoy's will.

The envoy bit the tip of his tongue sharply, and only by that piercing pain did he barely wrest back a sliver of clarity from the nearly frozen terror.

He trembled, pressing his body even lower, his voice as faint as a mosquito's hum, as if all his strength was spent.

"My master said, if Your Highness is willing to retreat to Luodu, he can guarantee he will not obstruct you."

"Moreover, when dragon and tiger fight, one is bound to be hurt. This is also for the sake of the common people of the world..."

Before his words finished, a silver thread of sharpness tore through the air without warning, grazing past the envoy's ear at a speed barely visible to the eye.

He didn't even feel pain, only a sudden heat on his earlobe.

When he instinctively turned his head, half of that ear had already fallen silently into the dust.

"Hah."

The figure on the high seat seemed to have heard an utterly absurd joke, a very light, derisive laugh escaping from their lips.

"Has he, Luo Yanchen, played the role of 'imperial son' for so long that he has forgotten his own status?"

"I am the sole legitimate Crown Prince of Great Luo."

"The weight of the Two Capitals and Thirteen Commanderies rests upon my shoulders."

"The words 'the common people of the world' are not for him to utter."

The burning pain at his ear and the despair of knowing death was certain lashed like two whips against the envoy's remaining reason.

Extreme despair, however, burned away the fear. He abruptly raised his head, a near-maddened resolve burning in his eyes, and roared out with all the strength of his life:

"But Your Highness, you have already lost! My master will soon control the Divine Capital, dividing the realm in two! By then, you will likely still be stuck here in Luoshui Commander, unable to move a single step..."

His words were cut short as the silver thread of sharpness materialized again out of thin air, instantly and precisely piercing his throat.

All sound ceased at that moment, leaving only a pair of eyes wide with disbelief.

"The light of a firefly dares to contend with the brilliance of the sun."

Soon, female officials entered like shadows. The envoy's not-yet-cold corpse was silently dragged away, the pool of blood swiftly wiped clean, as if he had never existed.

Immediately after, a figure clad in silver-white armor stepped over the ground just stained with blood and knelt on one knee before the seat, the clang of armor sounding as he reported in a deep voice:

"Your Highness, the enemy situation is clear."

From the high seat came only one word: "Speak."

"The rebels who ambushed Your Highness were the garrison troops of Beihe City. This general has led the Golden Feather Guard to exterminate them all, but..." The silver-armored general's voice grew heavier. "The other cities of Luoshui Commander have all raised their banners, declaring allegiance to the 'Second Imperial Son'. Their combined forces number... approximately three hundred thousand."

The silver-armored general paused briefly, his gaze beneath his helmet rim sharp as a blade:

"Please set your mind at ease, Your Highness."

"The thirty thousand brothers of the Golden Feather Guard are all warriors who will fight to the death, each capable of holding off ten! We can match them force for force and ensure Your Highness's safety!"

His words fell, plunging the hall into a suffocating, deathly silence.

A moment later, the person on the high seat slowly stood up.

The figure emerged from the shadows—it was actually a woman.

She paced to stand before the silver-armored general, her steps silent yet causing the general to bow his head even lower.

"Match them force for force?"

Her voice was gentle, yet carried the chill of an impending storm.

"What I, the solitary one, require is absolute supremacy."

With that, she walked directly towards the hall's exit. Her voice, though not loud, clearly reached every corner:

"Convey my oral decree."

"Ten days is the limit. I will reign supreme in the Divine Capital."

"Whoever accomplishes this feat, regardless of origin or past,"

"I, the solitary one, will grant him a noble title and the rank of chancellor."

...

"Just by becoming an official, I can cultivate immortality?"

Looking at the system prompt before him, Gu Chengyin fell into deep thought.

He had just transmigrated.

Of course, in this era where transmigration is a common occurrence, this wasn't anything rare.

So, as friends who transmigrate often know, the system always arrives right on schedule.

Gu Chengyin's system was very simple: just become an official, and you can cultivate immortality.

More precisely, "the higher the position you hold, the greater the power you wield, the more supporters you have, the stronger your cultivation becomes."

Becoming an official was the most direct path.

But as long as it led to cultivating immortality, any path was the same for Gu Chengyin.

After all, who hasn't dreamed of riding a sword through the clouds?

And now, something only found in dreams was right before his eyes.

This made Gu Chengyin seriously consider if this might be the only chance of his lifetime.

"Golden finger?"

He scrolled down. A second system prompt revealed itself: Hypnosis.

Gu Chengyin's eyes lit up.

The beginning is always the hardest part. Gu Chengyin had transmigrated physically, without even an identity.

Forget becoming an official; not being captured was already good luck.

But with hypnosis, everything would be different.

After checking the description, Gu Chengyin found that this hypnosis was a single-target, sustained skill. Currently, it could only be used on one person at a time.

Fortunately, as his strength increased, the number of people he could hypnotize simultaneously would also increase.

Moreover, the system guaranteed with absolute confidence that the hypnosis was foolproof, with only a very low probability of failure.

Gu Chengyin believed that, given his character, he probably wouldn't be that unlucky.

So the plan instantly became clear: find a suitable target, hypnotize them, then obtain a legitimate identity, pushing open the door to immortal cultivation.

After that, it would be about elevating his status and expanding his influence.

After all, power appears to come from superiors, but in reality, it comes from subordinates. The more supporters one has, the heavier the authority, and the stronger the cultivation.

"My position is my upper limit; my influence is my lower limit."

Having sorted out his thoughts, Gu Chengyin collected his mind and began calmly surveying his surroundings.

It was a simple, crude adobe hut, containing only a worn wooden table and the hard plank bed beneath him.

On the worn wooden table lay a set of old, patched clothes and a few copper coins.

Faint noises from a market and the sound of human voices came from outside the window, which gave Gu Chengyin some slight comfort.

As long as he wasn't in some wilderness, he had full confidence.

He changed into the old clothes, took the copper coins.

Gu Chengyin pushed open the door and stepped into the sunlight.

Walking out of the small alley by the door, a bustling long street greeted him.

After only a brief look around, Gu Chengyin headed straight for the noisiest tavern on the street corner.

Places like these, where all sorts of people gathered, were always where information flowed the fastest.

Not long after he took a seat, the street outside suddenly erupted in commotion.

People rose to look. Gu Chengyin also walked to the window and gazed out.

An extravagantly luxurious carriage stopped in front of the tavern. The carriage window was pushed open by a slender, delicate hand, revealing a face of peerless, city-toppling beauty.

With just one glance, Gu Chengyin knew: it was her.

Intricate layers of gilt embroidery overlapped, her sleeves fluttering in the wind like shifting cloud shadows.

The figure hinted at beneath the splendid robes was heart-stirring.

But even more heart-stopping were the soldiers guarding the carriage.

Each was broad-shouldered and sturdy, their armor stained with dust, their blades still bearing traces of blood, a fierce light not yet receded from their eyes—clearly just returned from a bloody battlefield of slaughter.

Yet, even such fierce and savage warriors,

before her, they all bowed their heads and held their breath, like ferocious beasts retracting their claws. Only her clear, cold voice lingered softly in the wind.

Soaring murderous aura, peerless elegance and grace—like a cold moon reflected in a sea of blood, narrating a suffocating majesty within the silence.

Gu Chengyin gently set down his teacup.

Target locked.