If she had any real control over him, Cui Shifan would never have gone to the Crown Princess's palace to propose marriage today.
If she had any real control, she wouldn't be in this pitiful, pushed-around state right now.
Luo Zhao couldn't control Gu Chengyin, and she couldn't control Lin Qingyan either—that was simply the truth.
Not because she wasn't smart enough. Not because she didn't try hard enough.
But because Lin Qingyan was her aunt, and because Gu Chengyin was far too formidable.
So formidable that Luo Zhao, try as she might with all her strength, could only stand within the lines that had been drawn for her.
Unable to walk out. Unable to jump free.
So Emperor Luo wasn't surprised. If anything, he was a little pleased.
Not pleased because Luo Zhao, as Crown Princess, couldn't control Gu Chengyin.
But pleased because Luo Zhao had finally learned to go to her parents.
Had finally learned to come to him, the Great Luo Emperor, for help.
In the past, Luo Zhao—no matter how stifled or aggrieved—would always grit her teeth and tough it out. She would never bow her head.
Even after Gu Chengyin had hypnotized and controlled her, she woke up and never said a single word to him about it.
Even after being bullied by Gu Chengyin countless times, she never once complained in front of her father.
Even when her heart was drowning in grievance, her face still wore that stubborn expression of "I'm fine, everything's fine."
Emperor Luo saw it all, and it pained him deep in his heart. But he couldn't intervene.
Because he was the Emperor. He couldn't stick his nose into everything on behalf of the Crown Princess.
He needed Luo Zhao to learn to face things herself, to handle things herself, to learn how to pick herself up after falling.
But that didn't mean Emperor Luo would just watch forever, letting Gu Chengyin keep trampling over Luo Zhao.
He was simply waiting. Waiting for Gu Chengyin to hone Luo Zhao's temperament.
Waiting until she, the Crown Princess, learned what it meant to balance strength with softness.
And now, Luo Zhao had finally bowed her head and softened.
Not bowing to Gu Chengyin—she had already done that long ago.
No, this was her bowing to her father. Softening toward him.
This was a daughter yielding to her father, not a Crown Princess yielding to her Emperor.
The former was trust, was dependence, was the quiet certainty of "I know you'll help me."
The latter was submission, was obedience, was the helplessness of "I have no choice but to listen."
Emperor Luo looked at Luo Zhao's lowered head, at the stray strands of hair escaping from her golden crown.
At how she no longer pretended to be strong in front of him.
He couldn't help but shake his head with a faint, amused smile:
"Mm. I know."
What those words meant was: I know your troubles. I know your grievances. I know you can't control Gu Chengyin.
As for what I'll do about it—that's my business. You don't need to know.
Luo Zhao lifted her head and looked at Emperor Luo.
Her eyes were still red, the tip of her nose still pink, her whole demeanor still that of a wronged little bride.
But there was a light in her eyes—not the light of grievance, not the light of anticipation.
It was the light of "everything is going to be alright."
Luo Zhao didn't know what her father would do. But she knew he would do something.
Because her father had never let her down.
Not once, from the day she was born until now.
Emperor Luo watched that little expression on her face and the corner of his mouth curved ever so slightly.
Then he said something that sounded like he was making excuses for Luo Zhao, but was actually laying the groundwork for what came next.
"Gu Chengyin is, after all, your Royal Tutor. Respecting one's teacher is only proper."
This was telling Luo Zhao: You did nothing wrong. You can't control Gu Chengyin—not because you're incompetent.
But because he's your Royal Tutor, and you were merely showing him respect.
This excuse was the stepping stone Emperor Luo offered Luo Zhao, and also the stepping stone he offered himself.
With this stone in place, Luo Zhao no longer had to feel ashamed about not being able to control Gu Chengyin.
With this stone in place, Emperor Luo could help Luo Zhao with full justification.
Not because the Crown Princess was incompetent, but because the Crown Princess was too respectful of her teacher.
So the problem was Gu Chengyin's, not Luo Zhao's.
This excuse was clever.
So clever that even Luo Zhao was stunned for a moment before she caught on.
Her father was finding an excuse for her. Shielding her. Turning her inability to control Gu Chengyin from a problem of capability into a problem of attitude.
A problem of capability is "I can't do it." A problem of attitude is "I won't do it."
Luo Zhao blinked. Her expression shifted from grievance to hesitation.
For some reason, she felt like she detected a deeper meaning in his words.
Because Gu Chengyin was her Royal Tutor, it was "respecting one's teacher."
Then if you flipped that logic around, wouldn't that mean...
"Father, you mean...?"
Luo Zhao didn't finish her sentence.
Not because she didn't know how to say it, but because she wasn't sure what her father wanted to hear.
Emperor Luo's gaze settled on her face, and he said slowly, languidly:
"I was just thinking... perhaps it's time to summon an Imperial Consort."
Those words hit Luo Zhao's ears like an explosion.
Like a firework going off inside her mind—silent, but flooding every thought with blinding white light.
Imperial Consort.
Why, all of a sudden, did the conversation turn to an Imperial Consort?
Was Emperor Luo planning to summon some man to be her Imperial Consort to deal with Gu Chengyin?
That would practically be her husband!
Not a princess's consort. Not a dowager's escort. Not the title given to husbands of ordinary princesses.
No—Imperial Consort.
The husband of the Crown Princess. The son-in-law of the Great Luo Emperor!
No one had ever said the Crown Princess couldn't have a husband. It was just that no one had ever dared.
Because to become Luo Zhao's husband, one had to have Emperor Luo's approval.
Luo Zhao stood frozen.
Her eyes went wide, pupils contracting, mouth slightly open.
She never imagined that the solution her father had in mind was this.
Because she couldn't control Gu Chengyin, he'd simply find her an outside help to manage him.
Luo Zhao's mind began spinning at full speed.
Imperial Consort equals husband equals her man.
That equation cycled through her head again and again.
Round and round, until she was dizzy, until she felt like throwing up.
She didn't like other men.
She had never liked any other man.
The only man she had ever liked was one.
But she didn't dare say it, because that man now belonged to her aunt.
Luo Zhao had thought she could keep it that way forever. Keep that man locked in the deepest corner of her heart.
Hidden so deep that no one would ever know she loved him.
Hidden so deep that everyone would think she hated him—hated him to the bone.
Hidden so deep that even the man himself believed she hated him.
But now, her father said perhaps it was time to summon an Imperial Consort.
Which meant Luo Zhao had to face a question she had been avoiding her whole life.
Did she want another man as her husband?
Did she want some stranger standing by her side?
No.
Without a flicker of hesitation, Luo Zhao knew her answer.
She truly, absolutely did not want that.
So she had to make her father take back this outrageous idea.
Just as she was trying to figure out how to gently refuse, Emperor Luo spoke again. His tone the same as before—slow, languid.
Like he was stating something utterly ordinary.
But the words that came out shattered every refusal she had prepared into pieces.
"Zhao'er, this Imperial Consort..."
"How about letting Gu Chengyin be the one?"
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!
ose... to cooperate with the protagonist! Shen Yuan: I have a system! Protagonist: What? System: Holy crap, you're just spilling it out like that? Shen Yuan: Let's team up, we'll split the system rewards! Protagonist: Fifty-fifty split? Shen Yuan: No way! Protagonist: What!? I'm the one getting beaten up, and I don't get half? Shen Yuan: Forty-sixty split, I get forty, you get sixty! Protagonist: Deal! Big brother, come on, hit me! As long as it doesn't kill me, beat me like you mean it! Shen Yuan: Don't worry... I will definitely protect all of you! No one but me can lay a finger on you! Guard our Heaven's Chosen Ones! I'm the only one allowed to bully them!
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?!
't think I'm that capable, I'm just trying my best to stay alive. I've been kind all my life, never did anything bad, yet worldly suffering spared me not one bit. The human world is a nice place, but I won't come back in my next life. A kind young man, who wanted to just get by singing, but through repeated deceits and betrayals, has gone down an irredeemable path.
