The Capital was in chaos.
From the royal palace to the distant sects, rumors spread like wildfire—"The Hidden Heir is dead!"
The words echoed through corridors, teahouses, and ancestral halls. Ministers trembled, princes moved their hidden forces, and assassins emerged from the shadows they had long occupied.
Within the Imperial Prison, deep below the jade palace where no sunlight ever reached, mad laughter resounded."Ha… ha… ha!"The man who was once believed to be the dead Emperor sat cross-legged in darkness, his long white hair matted and eyes gleaming with deranged light."Dead, is he? No… no, the game has just begun."
Chains rattled with each word. The guards outside dared not even breathe too loudly.
Meanwhile, the major sects were in panic.The Heavenly Sword Sect sealed its gates; the Purple Thunder Pavilion recalled all its disciples; the Soaring Crane Sect, once the most peaceful among them, closed every door and silenced every bell.
Inside its misty mountain halls, Min He sat alone in her room.Her sword leaned against the wall, untouched.The scent of tea had long gone cold.She hadn't spoken a word in three days.
The Patriarch of the Soaring Crane Sect held his head in both hands, veins bulging across his temples. He had sent spirit messengers, scouts, and talisman hawks—cranes across half the continent—but there was still no trace of Li Qiong.
Some said he ran away.Others whispered he was killed by the royal guards.But the truth was far stranger than anyone could imagine.
Because while the world raged, while kingdoms moved their armies and princes plotted their claims…
Inside a quiet courtyard in the Third Prince's chambers, a young man sat at ease.
Rain tapped gently against the window lattice.Steam curled from a porcelain cup.
Li Qiong, wearing a simple robe, lifted his teacup and blew softly across its surface.His eyes reflected neither chaos nor fear—only a calm amusement.
Outside, thunder rolled once again.
And far beyond the capital walls, beneath the shifting storm clouds, countless destinies began to converge—
The Third Prince stood near the doorway, drenched in cold sweat. His throat was dry, his heart pounding so loudly he could barely hear the rain.
He swallowed hard."Li Qiong… what is your motive?"
Li Qiong didn't answer.He simply continued blowing across the surface of his tea, watching the ripples fade with quiet detachment.
"Sit," Li Qiong said softly, placing a cup in front of the prince.
The prince hesitated. "I… I prefer to stand."
Li Qiong's gaze lifted—calm, almost indifferent. Yet the moment their eyes met, the air thickened.A crushing weight, invisible yet absolute, pressed down upon the prince. It was like a mountain falling, like a wave crushing his spirit back and forth.
His knees buckled.He collapsed to the floor, gasping for air as sweat streamed down his face. His hands clawed at the ground, but no strength would come.
And then—just as suddenly as it came—the pressure vanished.
The prince blinked rapidly, trembling. The room was quiet. Nothing seemed out of place. Only Li Qiong's eyes remained the same—calm, unreadable, and infinitely deep.
He forced himself onto a chair, chest heaving.
Li Qiong finally spoke. His voice was low, almost conversational."How is the former Emperor?"
The prince froze. His breath caught."W–What are you talking about?" he stammered, eyes darting to the corners of the room as if afraid someone might overhear.
Li Qiong tilted his head slightly, still holding his cup. "Don't pretend with me."
The Third Prince's face turned pale. He looked down at his shaking hands.No one was supposed to know. No one.
No one knew the Emperor still lived—imprisoned beneath the palace, bound by the very sects sworn to protect the throne. To the world, he was dead; to the princes, he was discarded.
And the princes… they were nothing but puppets waiting to be claimed.
Li Qiong set the teacup aside."I will make you Emperor," he said quietly. "And I will kill your foes."
The prince's eyes widened in disbelief. "You—what are you saying—why would you—?"
Li Qiong smiled faintly, the corners of his lips barely moving."In return," he said, "all I ask is a small payment. A single item from the treasury."
Thunder rumbled outside once more.And in the dim candlelight, the reflection of Li Qiong's eye flickered across the prince's trembling gaze—a look that promised both salvation and revenge.