Emperor Lu Tian sat in the Golden Dragon Study, surrounded by scrolls that could determine the fate of millions. To any outsider, he looked like the peak of majesty—a True Immortal whose gaze could wither a forest.
In reality, he was using his Divine Sense to eavesdrop on his children.
"Your Majesty, you're smirking again," Empress Fu Meyar said, gracefully pouring him a cup of Spirit-Refining Tea. She was joined by the other three wives; they had turned the Imperial Study into a makeshift lounge, complete with silk cushions and premium snacks.
"I can't help it, Meyar," Lu Tian chuckled, leaning back and rubbing his temples. "Tianhao just tried to bribe the Royal Chef to hide a Dragon-Marrow Pill inside Xian-er's rice porridge. He actually told the chef it was 'just a very large grain of salt.'"
Noble Consort Su Ka'er laughed so hard her armor clanked. "And let me guess, Yueran is currently 'adjusting' the nursery's ventilation to pump in pure concentrated Qi?"
"Exactly," the Emperor sighed, though his eyes sparkled with warmth. "It's a heavenly dream, isn't it? In the Great Zhou Empire to our North, the princes are poisoning each other's tea. Here? My children are exhausting their private treasuries just to make sure their youngest brother becomes 'too qualified' to be bypassed for the throne."
"They really do love him," Noble Consort Hu Wan said softly, her heart full. "But isn't it a bit cruel? Our Xian-er is only a few months old, and he's already being treated like an Imperial Retirement Plan."
Lu Tian looked at his youngest wife and smiled. "Wan'er, have you seen the boy's eyes? He's not a normal baby. He thinks he's being subtle, but I watched him try to 'accidentally' knock over a bowl of Spirit Medicine yesterday just so he wouldn't have to absorb it. He's as cunning as a thousand-year-old fox."
"So, you're just going to let them play this game?" Noble Consort Wang Li'er asked, popping a spirit-grape into her mouth.
"For now," the Emperor said, his expression turning mock-serious as he looked at the massive pile of paperwork on his desk. "I've been on this throne for three hundred years. If one of them manages to trick the others into taking this seat, I'll consider it their final exam. But Xian-er... he's special. He's the first one I've seen who doesn't just hate the work—he actively despises the glory."
The Emperor picked up a brush, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "If they want to play 'The Throne is a Trap,' I'll show them I'm the one who built the trap."