***The Eastern Palace of Vermillion River kingdom.
The scent of wine and incense hung heavy in the air, sweet enough to dull the senses. Soft strings and hollow flutes murmured from behind silk screens, weaving a languid melody meant to soothe rather than stir.
Gu Feng reclined upon a jade-inlaid chair, eyes closed, one arm draped lazily over the armrest. His posture suggested indolence, but there was nothing careless about the way his breathing stayed measured, controlled.
He looked every bit the bored crown prince—beautiful surroundings, obedient attendants, pleasures arranged in advance.
He was tall, his frame lean rather than bulky, built with the effortless balance of someone long accustomed to cultivation.
Even at rest, there was a coiled tension beneath his posture, as though his body never fully surrendered to leisure. His skin was fair, unmarred, carrying the faint, healthy sheen of refined spiritual nourishment.
Long red hair fell loose down his back, bound only at the crown by a thin vermilion clasp etched with flame patterns—the sole ornament he wore.
His features were sharp and striking, yet not cold. Straight brows framed eyes that, when opened, revealed an amber-gold hue faintly reminiscent of banked embers. His nose was straight, lips thin and usually curved in an expression halfway between amusement and indifference.
He was handsome in a way that inspired caution rather than comfort.
Before him, dancers moved in slow, sinuous arcs. Silk clung and slipped, pale skin flashing beneath lanternlight. Their smiles were practiced. Their gazes careful.
Gu Feng silently ignores their presence.
His attention lay elsewhere, drifting inward, as though the world before him were nothing more than background noise.
A ripple disturbed the stillness.
A figure knelt at his side without announcement, head bowed, presence discreet to the point of invisibility. The music continued. The dancers did not falter.
The subordinate leaned in and whispered.
Gu Feng's eyes opened.
Not abruptly—no startle, no surprise—but with a calm sharpness, like a blade sliding free of its sheath. The corner of his lips curved upward, just slightly.
"Interesting," he murmured. "A non-cultivator heir… crowned emperor of the Azure River."
The subordinate nodded. "Confirmed, Your Highness. Furthermore, the new emperor is widely regarded as a useless ruler. No cultivation foundation. Sheltered upbringing. No battlefield experience. No political accomplishments."
Gu Feng straightened.
The jade chair creaked softly as he leaned forward, fingers steepled. His amusement did not fade, but something colder stirred beneath it—calculation replacing leisure.
He raised a hand.
The music faltered. The dancers froze, then lowered themselves in unison, retreating backward like a tide drawing away from shore. Servants followed, curtseying deeply before disappearing beyond the silk curtains. Within moments, the hall was empty save for Gu Feng and his subordinate.
Silence settled.
"That is… odd," Gu Feng said at last, gaze distant. "Of all the princes Azure River could have chosen—why him?"
The subordinate hesitated, then spoke carefully. "Because the throne chose him."
Gu Feng laughed.
It was a quiet laugh, unhurried, edged with amusement rather than mockery. "I see. So the old fools still cling to their relics." He leaned back, eyes gleaming. "Tradition over practicality. Superstition over strength."
His fingers tapped lightly against the jade armrest.
The Azure River Kingdom's succession rites were no secret. Gu Feng had studied them long ago—not out of reverence, but because knowledge of an enemy's faith was often more valuable than knowledge of their armies.
The Dragon Throne.
A relic said to predate the current dynasties. When unoccupied, it was nothing more than pale stone—ancient, heavy, inert. But when a true heir approached, the throne would respond.
Not to talent. Not to cultivation. But to bloodline.
If the lineage resonated, the stone would glow.
A dull shimmer meant weakness. A faint hue signified dilution.
Only gold—dense, radiant gold—marked an emperor acknowledged by Heaven.
Gu Feng's smile widened slightly.
"A useless emperor chosen by the Dragon Throne…" he mused. "How fascinating."
Gu Feng looked toward the direction of the Azure River Kingdom, though stone walls blocked any real view.
"Either the throne is finally senile," he said softly, "or Azure River is hiding something far more interesting than it appears."
His eyes narrowed.
"And if it's the latter…"
The silence deepened, heavy with unspoken intent.
"Then perhaps," Gu Feng continued, "the fall of Azure River will not be as simple as everyone expects."
The jade chair creaked as he rose.
"Prepare observers—" Gu Feng stopped himself, then chuckled quietly.
"No. Prepare coronation gifts instead."
His gaze drifted toward the unseen Azure River kingdom.
"Let us see," he murmured, "whether the useless emperor understands what it means when Vermilion sends its congratulations."
*******************
Lian Xu sat forward on the edge of the wooden seat, fingers laced, knees bouncing ever so slightly beneath the imperial robe.
He told himself to be calm.
He told himself this was beneath an emperor.
But his heart still thudded like a boy awaiting exam results.
The air before him shimmered—subtle, almost shy—then a sound chimed within his mind.
Ding!
Sweet. Clear. Perfect.
[Ten Draws Initiated.]
Lian Xu exhaled sharply, a grin breaking free despite himself. "Alright… let's see how cruel or generous you're feeling today."
Ten illusory chests materialized in sequence, suspended in a slow orbit of light. Each bore a different sigil, their auras layered like scents in the air.
The System's chime rang again, richer this time, as if indulging him.
[Draw Results Confirmed.]
Four chests glowed with a muted bronze sheen.
One flickered faintly, pale white.
Another exuded the warm, honest glow of grain and earth.
One pulsed heavily—solid, grounded, unmistakably martial.
Two barely existed at all, little more than trembling wisps.
And the last—
The last chest did not glow.
It commanded.
Lian Xu's breath hitched.
Before he could speak, the System announced them with clinical indifference.
[4× Economic Chest — Mortal Rank.]
[1× Material Chest — Mortal Rank.]
[1× Food Chest — Mortal Rank.]
[1× Military Chest — Earth Rank.]
[2× Energy Chest — Fragment Rank.]
[1× Realm Chest — Divine Rank.]
"Huh…Realm Chest?" Lian Xu echoed softly.
The words lingered. Hmmm... Interesting category.