Lián Xù barely had time to finish panicking before the System stabbed him in the back.
"…What?"
His breath caught halfway.
Deducted?
Lián Xù stared at the floating text as if it had personally betrayed him.
"Hold on," he hissed internally, lowering his gaze so his uncle wouldn't notice the sudden twitch in his expression. "Why am I losing points? I'm supposed to benefit from misjudgment. That's the whole damn premise!"
[Host misjudged another party.]
"That's rich," Lián Xù snapped silently. "So when others misunderstand me, I get rewarded. But when I misunderstand someone, I get punished? When exactly were you planning to mention that little detail?"
There was a brief pause.
Then—
[You never bothered to ask.]
"…You—"
Lián Xù almost laughed. Almost.
"That's not transparency, that's entrapment," he muttered inwardly. "You could've at least warned me."
[This system is a prototype.]
The words were flat. Unapologetic. Almost smug.
Lián Xù closed his eyes for a heartbeat, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Of course you are," he sighed. "Of course I got stuck with the beta version."
No rollback.
No compensation.
No sympathy.
Just cold, merciless logic.
He exhaled slowly, shoulders relaxing as resignation settled in. Fine. If that was how the rules worked, he'd adapt. He always did.
Points lost could be earned back.
People, however—people were harder to read.
Lián Xù lifted his gaze and refocused on the man standing before him.
His uncle.
The Regent of Azure River.
Lian Wei.
"…You said it's time to be honest," Lián Xù said carefully, voice measured, probing without pressing. "What exactly did you mean by that?"
Lian Wei studied him for a long moment, as if weighing how much truth a young emperor could bear. Then he sighed—a sound heavy with responsibility—and nodded.
"I have not told you everything," he admitted. "Not about the kingdom. Not about our situation."
Lián Xù's fingers tightened slightly against the dragon throne's armrest.
"The truth is," Lian Wei continued, "Azure River is weaker than it appears. Our borders are thin. Our reserves are shallow. If a major kingdom were to commit fully to an invasion…" He paused, jaw tightening. "We would struggle to endure."
Lián Xù remained silent, listening.
"Even I," Lian Wei said quietly, "with my cultivation at the Spirit Domain Realm, may not be enough to repel every enemy. One enemy, perhaps. Two, if fortune favors us. But not many."
That admission alone would have shaken the court to its core.
Lian Wei met his nephew's eyes. "That is why I can no longer afford to shelter you."
From within his sleeve, he withdrew a book and placed it gently into Lián Xù's hands.
A cultivation manual.
Simple. Plain. Well-worn.
"A beginner's manual," Lian Wei said. "Breathing techniques. Foundation refinement. Nothing advanced. But it is a start."
Lián Xù blinked, surprised.
"I don't expect miracles," Lian Wei continued. "But I need you to cultivate. Even if only to the Mortal Realm. Strength—any strength—is better than none."
His voice softened then, regret seeping through the cracks of authority.
"This… is my failure. And the royal family's. You were frail as a child—thin, sickly. We chose to protect you instead of nurture you." A bitter smile crossed his lips. "We thought kindness was wisdom."
Lián Xù said nothing.
"We never imagined the throne would choose you," Lian Wei admitted. "All expectations rested on your elder brother."
Lián Hào.
"Your elder brother… He was a martial prodigy," Lian Wei said. "Strong body. Sharp instincts. A natural leader. We believed he would inherit the Dragon Throne without question."
"But," Lián Xù murmured, already sensing the answer.
"But during the ascension ceremony," Lian Wei said, "nobody expected that his bloodline was thin."
The same was true of the other princes. With the exception of Lián Xù.
Silence filled the throne room, heavy and absolute.
Lián Xù looked down at the manual in his hands, its weight far greater than its pages suggested.
So that was it.
Not fate.
Not favoritism.
But exclusion.
The throne had chosen him not because he was strong—
—but because he was necessary.
Somewhere in his mind, the System hummed quietly.
Lián Xù exhaled.
"…I see," he said at last, lips curving faintly.
And this time, the smile wasn't naive at all.
"Uncle," Lián Xù said gently, breaking the silence, "you don't have to worry about me."
He rose slightly from the dragon throne, the cultivation manual resting lightly in his hands.
"I'll be fine," he continued, his voice calm, steady. "I have the court. I have you. And this manual…"
He paused—just long enough for the weight of expectation to settle—then smiled, bright and reassuring.
"I'll try to study it."
That smile.
In Lian Wei's eyes, it was painfully familiar.
Too composed.
Too brave.
The Regent felt a quiet ache bloom in his chest. To him, Lián Xù looked like a boy standing in armor far too heavy, pretending it didn't crush his shoulders. Courage worn not as confidence—but as courtesy.
He's comforting me, Lian Wei thought.
Even now… he's thinking of others.
Beneath that smile, surely there was fear. Uncertainty. The dread of a fragile emperor suddenly exposed to a ruthless world.
Lian Wei exhaled slowly and stepped forward, resting a firm hand on Lián Xù's shoulder. The grip was steady—grounding—before he withdrew it.
"If you ever need guidance," Lian Wei said warmly, his voice low and sincere, "this uncle will stand beside you. Always, Your Majesty."
Ding!
[+50 Misjudgment Points]
Lián Xù nodded solemnly, the picture of a grateful, slightly overwhelmed ruler.
Inside, however—
Nice, he thought. Very nice.
After a brief hesitation, Lian Wei bowed and excused himself, footsteps echoing as he left the throne room and its solitary emperor behind.
The moment the doors closed—
Lián Xù's expression changed.
He glanced down at the cultivation manual in his hands.
Azure River Imperial Breathing Technique.
Earth Rank.
Restricted to the imperial bloodline.
A treasure, by any cultivator's standards.
"…Yeah. Later," he muttered.
Without ceremony, he tossed it into his storage space like an old receipt.
His attention snapped back to the glowing System interface, eyes alight with anticipation.
"System," Lián Xù said, lips curling into a grin far sharper than anything his uncle had seen.
"I want to use the General Summon Card."
[Redeeming General Summon Card (Divine Rank)]
Ding!
The air shifted.
A pressure descended—silent, suffocating, authoritative.
[Summon Successful.]
[Name: Lü Meng]
[Cultivation: Martial Saint]
[Hidden Trait: Strategist]
[Abilities:]
— Hidden Blade Technique: Attacks remain undetectable until the moment of impact.
— Sudden Enlightenment Strike: A perfectly timed blow that bypasses all defenses.
Lián Xù's grin widened, eyes gleaming with delight.
"…Martial Saint," he whispered. "And a strategist?"
For a heartbeat, silence hung in the air—then Lián Xù laughed, low and unrestrained.
"Hahaha—this is perfect." He leaned back against the dragon throne, delight flickering openly across his face. "System, you really do understand what I need."
If a Divine rank summon card could grant him a Martial Saint—someone capable of turning battlefields with both blade and mind—then the guards summon card of Earth rank meant to protect the summoner itself could be…
A general is already like this…
Then the Secret Imperial Guards?
Lián Xù couldn't help it. The thought alone sent a thrill through him. His smile deepened.
"I can't wait," he muttered softly.
He exhaled slowly and stretched his fingers, feeling the faint hum of power beneath his skin. Then, with practiced ease, he summoned the System interface.
The System interface bloomed into existence once more, light and runes unfurling before him like a private heaven.
His eyes settled on the next option.
Rows of icons unfolded before him like a private treasury.
Secret Imperial Guards Summon Card (×10).
Lián Xù tilted his head, a thoughtful hum slipping from his lips. "System," he said casually, as if discussing the weather, "I want to use these too."
[Please specify the quantity to redeem.]
"All of them."
There was no hesitation. No dramatic pause. Just certainty.
"I'll redeem all ten."
The air seemed to hold its breath.
[Redeeming Secret Imperial Guards Summon Cards ×10…]
A low vibration rippled through the throne room, subtle yet unmistakable. The golden dragon motifs carved into the pillars shimmered faintly, as if stirred awake by something unseen.
Lián Xù leaned back against the throne, folding his arms loosely across his chest.
"So," he murmured, eyes half-lidded with interest, "what kind of surprises are you hiding this time?"
No answer came immediately.
Only the rising pressure.The promise of shadows gathering where light could not reach.
Lián Xù's lips curved upward—slow, deliberate, brimming with anticipation.
"Uncle," he murmured softly to the empty hall, voice almost fond,
"you really don't have to worry about me."
The empire might think him fragile.
But behind the curtain of misjudgment—
He was already assembling monsters.