I am a failure.
That was the only thought in my head as I sat on a silk mat, supposedly "learning to crawl."
My plan to be a crippled genius had been brutally murdered by my Third Sister's needles. My plan to be a mediocre talent was currently being buried under a mountain of Heaven-Grade supplements being smuggled into my room by my brothers.
If I couldn't be weak, and I couldn't be average... I had to be boring.
New Plan: The Dullard Protocol, I decided. I will be the most uninspired, unmotivated, and 'un-Emperor-like' prince in history. I won't lead; I'll follow. I won't speak wisdom; I'll speak nonsense. If they give me a sword, I'll use it to poke a beehive.
"Xian-er! Look what Big Brother brought you!"
The doors flew open. Lu Tianhao walked in, carrying a wooden sword that hummed with a sharp, azure light. "This is the Sky-Cleaver. It's a Saint-Grade artifact. I want you to play with it instead of that rattle."
I looked at the priceless artifact. Then, I looked at Tianhao.
With a blank, drooling expression, I grabbed the sword... and immediately tried to shove the hilt into my mouth to chew on it like a teething ring.
Tianhao froze. "No, Xian-er! That's for cutting through the fabric of space! Not for your molars!"
I just blinked at him, letting a bit of spit run down my chin. See? I'm a baby. A dumb, sword-chewing baby. No Kingly Aura here.
"Is he... okay?" Lu Chenyi asked, stepping into the room with a stack of ancient scrolls. "I brought the Art of Universal Governance for his bedtime stories, but he's currently trying to eat a Saint-Grade weapon."
"Maybe he's just hungry for knowledge?" Jianfeng suggested, hopefully.
I decided to double down. I turned around, crawled over to Chenyi's priceless scrolls, and—with a look of pure, innocent joy—I ripped the front page of a 5,000-year-old treaty on tax reform.
The room went silent.
Yes! I cheered internally. Ruin the scrolls! Disappoint the scholars! Send me to a quiet estate in the countryside where I can't hurt the Imperial archives anymore!
"He... he ripped it," Chenyi whispered.
"He didn't just rip it," Yueran said, walking in and inspecting the carnage. Her eyes narrowed as she looked at me. "He ripped the section regarding 'Excessive Taxation on the Peasantry.' Brothers... do you see what this means?"
I stopped chewing on the sword. Wait, what?
"He's a genius!" Tianhao gasped, his eyes shining with renewed fervor. "He's signaling his political stance! By destroying the tax treaty, he's telling us he intends to be a benevolent ruler who favors the common folk over the treasury! He's already practicing 'Symbolic Reform' at six months old!"
"And he chewed the sword hilt," Jianfeng added, nodding wisely. "He's testing the durability of the metal. He's a pragmatist!"
I stared at them, my jaw literally dropping. Are you kidding me?! I just ate a scroll and bit a sword! How is that political reform?!
"We must tell Father," Chenyi said, looking inspired. "Our brother isn't just a cultivator; he's a Reformist! We need to get him more scrolls to 'edit' immediately!"
They all rushed out, leaving me alone in the middle of a pile of shredded history.
I fell onto my back, staring at the ceiling. These people weren't just geniuses; they were delusional. My siblings' "Heaven-Defying Intelligence" was so high it had looped back around into madness.
I'm doomed, I thought. I'm going to end up on that throne because I'm too good at being bad at it.