Xu Xuandong slipped back into his private quarters, letting the heavy wooden doors click shut behind him.
Sitting quietly by the window sill, her vibrant crimson hair catching the fading twilight and her golden eyes glowing softly, was Ying Yue.
“Sup,” Xuandong offered casually, tossing his outer coat over a chair.
Ying Yue tilted her head, her delicate features blank with mild confusion.
“Sup?” she echoed softly.
Xuandong couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight—she was undeniably cute.
“Don’t worry about it.
It’s just a greeting from a far-off land.” Walking over, he pulled up a seat across from her.
“So…
do you wish to sing tonight, Yue’er?” A brilliant spark flared within her golden eyes, her lips parting as if to shout a passionate yes.
But right before the words escaped, her posture abruptly locked.
Lowering her gaze, she retreated instantly back into her rigid, trained composure.
“I will do whatever Master desires of me.” Xuandong narrowed his eyes, a small, weary sigh escaping his lips.
One step at a time, he thought internally.
Unlearning years of servitude conditioning takes patience.
“I want to hear you sing,” he said, his tone turning gentle yet unyielding.
A subtle, genuine smile touched her lips.
“As you wish…
though Her Majesty the Empress has strictly forbidden you from playing music after…
the capital incident.” Xuandong smirked, tapping his temple.
“Don’t worry about Mother.
I’ve got a plan.” Retreating into his inner bedchamber, Xuandong summoned his Steam Deck martial soul, the dark glass screen flaring to life with the punishing world of the Lands Between.
“Well…
back to grinding,” he muttered to himself, cracking his knuckles.
“Roar!
That’s the spirit!” In-game, his Numen Wretch ducked seamlessly beneath a massive, multi-limbed sweep.
“Alright, spin…
he’s gonna jump now…
dodge…
aaaand gg!
Easy first try!” He lit the glowing Site of Grace, watching the golden light guide his path.
“Now then…
should I go to Rennala or Radahn next?
What do you think, chat?” Habit took total control.
Xuandong turned his head toward his second familiar monitor on his nightstand—the one where his live stream chat used to scroll endlessly back on Earth—only to lock eyes with an empty mahogany table.
His eyes dimmed for a brief fraction of a second.
A quiet, heavy breath left his throat.
“Yeah…
I forgot.” Looking down at the glowing Steam Deck resting in his palms, he ran a thumb over the trackpad with a soft smirk.
“At least you’re still with me.” Far above the mortal plane, deep within the transcendent sanctuary of the God Realm.
Tang San stood atop a crystalline terrace, gazing silently down at the river of stars representing the mortal worlds below.
Beside him, Xiao Wu rested against his shoulder, noticing the heavy shadow clouding his brow.
“What’s wrong, Xiao San?” she asked gently.
“Something is bothering me,” Tang San murmured, his blue eyes narrowing sharply as he analyzed the star chart.
“I can no longer sense the Child of Destiny on the Douluo Continent.
I had already precisely calculated the exact coordinates where he would manifest, but his star suddenly went dim.
I inspected the continent, yet I found nothing out of order.
Everything remains as it has been for the last few centuries…
but things should only begin to shift once the Child of Destiny arises.” “Xiao San?” A warm, radiant voice drifted through the sanctuary as Ah Yin, the embodied spirit of the Blue Silver Emperor, stepped forward.
“Mother?” Tang San turned, surprised.
“Is something wrong?” “Someone intimately close to nature has been born,” Ah Yin revealed, her expression filled with quiet wonder.
“A true Child of Nature.
Not through inheritance or divine succession passed down by birthright, but born innately as one with the world itself.” Tang San’s gaze turned razor-sharp.
“Who?” “A young boy…
residing within the Sun Moon Empire,” she answered softly.
Tang San fell into a deep, calculating silence, his mind rapidly constructing endless tactical probabilities.
Back in the imperial quarters, a soft knock shattered Xuandong’s concentration.
Ying Yue stepped into the room, bowing gracefully.
“Master, dinner is ready.” “Let me get washed up.
Let me know when it’s served,” Xuandong nodded, stashing his martial soul away.
A few minutes later, they arrived at the grand imperial dining room.
Taking his seat, Xuandong glanced around the mahogany table.
His mother and elder sisters were present, though his twin sister Xu Xia and her counterpart were currently visiting their grandfather’s territory, while his father, Emperor Xu, was missing.
“Where’s Father?” Xuandong asked as Ying Yue took her place dutifully behind his chair.
“He is busy,” the Empress replied, a trace of gravity in her voice.
“An urgent matter arose near the border that required his immediate attention.” I wonder what’s going on…
Xuandong thought, shrugging it off for now.
Turning back to the table, he offered a bright smile.
“By the way, Yue’er and I are going to put on a small performance tonight—” “NO!” The chorus was instant, unanimous, and deafening.
Every single sister and the Empress slammed their utensils down in absolute refusal.
Xuandong’s lips twitched violently.
He glanced back at Ying Yue, who stood quietly with her head lowered, hiding her disappointment behind a rigid mask of servitude.
Seeing her step back into her shell, Xuandong set his jaw.
He was going to fight for this.
“I promise I won’t cause trouble this time!” Xuandong argued earnestly.
“Xuandong, I am pregnant,” the Empress said flatly, rubbing her temples.
“I do not have the energy for your musical antics.” “I really mean it, Mother!
I just want to perform a genuine, peaceful piece to celebrate the arrival of my new baby sibling!” Xuandong pleaded.
The entire table stared back at him with pure, suspicion.
Behind him, Ying Yue gently tugged on his silk sleeve, whispering softly, “It is fine, Your Highness…
Please do not force the issue on my account.” The Empress caught the small, timid gesture.
Her stern gaze softened.
Seeing the same vacant, selfless eyes Ying Yue carried—so painfully reminiscent of the quiet crisis her own son used to suffer—combined with watching Xuandong actively trying to help the girl find herself, the Empress found it impossible to deny them.
She let out a heavy, defeated sigh.
“Do you promise not to cause trouble?” “I promise!” Xuandong swore instantly.
The Empress finally nodded.
Taking Ying Yue’s hand, Xuandong led her to the center of the hall.
Producing a refined bamboo flute, he brought it to his lips while Ying Yue took a soft breath, letting her ethereal, melodic voice float through the room.
As the soothing notes resonated, a serene, deeply relaxing aura washed over the dining hall.
The family sat spellbound; they had braced for chaotic madness, but were instead treated to an exquisite, harmonious masterpiece.
When the final note faded, the dining room erupted into genuine applause.
“That was marvelous!” his eldest sister praised warmly.
“Truly, the best performance I’ve ever witnessed!” Xuandong smiled.
“Yue’er is the real genius here.
She carried the whole song.” Xu Mie’er chuckled in agreement.
“I second that.
If not for Yue’er’s voice, it would have been rats singing and dancing to your tune again.” The table burst into shared laughter.
Xu Xia—joining via a floating soul tool communication projection—tilted her head in sudden thought.
“Wait…
now that you mention it…
how the hell did you make rats and wild animals dance and play to your music back then?!” Xuandong blinked innocently.
“Oh, that?
That was just my first soul skill.” The entire room froze.
Memories flashed through their minds as they recalled his officially registered skill: Charm.
Lightbulbs went off simultaneously across the room.
The terrifying realization hit them like a runaway carriage.
That was how he had effortlessly controlled half the birthday banquet guests and noble lords into a wild, dancing frenzy across the capital!
“How could you possibly charm that many people at once without running out of soul power?!” his sister demanded in absolute shock.
“I don’t force anybody,” Xuandong explained calmly, shrugging his shoulders.
“I just passively infuse the charm aura into my music.
Anyone with decent mental defense could easily block or resist it…
they just didn’t want to because they were having too much fun.” Xu Mie’er stared at him, her expression shifting into a mixture of absolute disgust and utter disbelief.
“Wait a second…” Xu Mie’er blurted out, her voice rising in horror.
“You charm rats to make them fall in love with you…
Is your last name Tang?!” Xu Xuandong stepped into his quiet bedchamber, closing the heavy wooden doors behind him after a long dinner with his family.
He sat at his desk, staring into the flickering candlelight as his mind dissected the subtle political currents flowing through the imperial court.
He let out a soft sigh; unlike the dark alleys of the slums or the normal districts, the imperial palace never harbored stray rats—and even if one managed to crawl inside, it would be swiftly exterminated.
“Good,” Xuandong murmured, glancing toward the shadowy corner of the room.
“I was getting curious about what was happening out there.” The shadows shifted as Duke Yang stepped into the dim light, his expression unusually grave.
“Kid, something big happened.” Xuandong remained silent, crossing his arms and waiting patiently for the leader of the Natural Faction to continue.
“Before returning from the border, Prince Xu Gongfeng managed to claim a massive merit,” Duke Yang revealed, his voice heavy.
“He killed a powerful Soul Douluo and fatally injured a Title Douluo.” Xuandong narrowed his eyes.
“Who were they?” “The Title Douluo is Tiger Douluo, Dai Yuan—someone from my generation whom I’ve fought countless times,” Duke Yang replied.
“As for the Soul Douluo…
it was his son, Dai Hao.
The kid had a bright future, practically guaranteed to become a Title Douluo.” “What?!” Xuandong gasped, genuine shock breaking his composure.
Duke Yang blinked, surprised by the young prince’s intense reaction.
“What’s wrong?” Xuandong fell completely silent for several minutes, his mind spinning as he realized Huo Yuhao’s future father had just been erased from existence.
“I…
performed a divination previously,” Xuandong lied smoothly, shaking his head.
“I saw Dai Hao playing a crucial role in the future of the continent.
But now…
he’s gone.
Fate really is a fickle bitch.” He stood up, walking over to the tall window and staring up at the quiet night sky.
“The past is changeable and the future is ever-changing,” Xuandong whispered softly.
“What matters is the moment we live right now.” He turned back toward Duke Yang, his eyes burning with an intense fighting spirit that outshone the stars.
Duke Yang nodded in approval; having witnessed Xuandong’s mysterious “divination” when they caught Zhongli Wu off guard during the slum ambush, he harbored no doubts about the prince’s foresight.
“Continue,” Xuandong commanded.
“While crippling a Title Douluo is a major blow, Star Luo still has Wang Xian’er to heal Dai Yuan,” Duke Yang explained.
“The real impact is Dai Hao.
He was the greatest talent in the Star Luo Empire.
Killing him is a far greater strategic victory than killing an aging Title Douluo.” Xuandong nodded slowly.
“Dai Yuan is old, but Dai Hao was young with bright potential.
My dear uncle just eliminated a massive future threat to our empire.” “And now, Star Luo Empire is aggressively demanding an explanation,” Duke Yang added.
Xuandong raised an eyebrow.
“How did my uncle even find the time to engage them at the border?” “They were the ones who ambushed him,” Duke Yang stated.
A sharp smirk touched Xuandong’s lips.
“So Star Luo betrayed the White Tiger Clan to whittle down their military influence.
It was likely a secret political transaction between my uncle and Star Luo to strip the White Tiger Clan’s control over the military.” Duke Yang remained silent before sighing softly.
“I believe so too.
Years ago at the border, I received intel regarding Tiger Douluo’s strategic position, but I assumed it was a trap and left it alone.” “And what is the court’s stance?” Xuandong asked.
“Xu Gongfeng’s faction is praising him as a hero,” Duke Yang reported.
“Meanwhile, your father’s faction claims his reckless actions will provoke an unnecessary war.” “And what does my father think?” “His Majesty remains passive,” Duke Yang replied, shaking his head.
“Neither supporting nor condemning him.” Xuandong’s face darkened, a sharp hiss escaping his teeth.
“What is that old man thinking?!” He knew his father was soft-hearted, but this level of passivity was dangerous.
Xuandong rubbed his temples.
“Is Senior Ye Guan busy absorbing his spirit bones, or is he at court?” “He is currently busy with court proceedings,” Duke Yang confirmed.
“Summon him here immediately.” A few minutes later, a soft golden light flashed inside the room, and Ye Guan materialized before the prince.
“Your Highness, you called for me?” “We need to force my father to publicly support my uncle and make Star Luo back off,” Xuandong said directly.
“Star Luo initiated the ambush—why should we offer them an explanation?” He pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to the Super Douluo.
“This is a speech I prepared.
Have my soft-hearted father read this exact statement to the public.” Ye Guan scanned the written words, his blood boiling with sudden fervor.
He looked up at Xuandong, his eyes wide.
“Do you want to cause a war?” “Not yet,” Xuandong replied calmly.
“This is a political trap set by my uncle.
We must unite the empire under one banner.
Star Luo wouldn’t dare start a war right now, so we should push forward with absolute confidence.
Furthermore, Ye Xushi had three holes—one for Mu En, one for Long Xiaoyao, and one for Zhong li.” Ye Guan choked on his breath, coughing violently at the absurd tactical claim.
Xuandong ignored his reaction and continued, “If we show unyielding confidence, Mu En will ask Long Xiaoyao about it, and they will assume our empire has a Limit Douluo standing behind us.” Ye Guan’s eyes widened in sheer realization.
“We must turn my uncle’s merit into the royal family’s merit,” Xuandong declared coldly.
“My father needs to make this statement.” Ye Guan nodded firmly in agreement.
Left alone once more, Xuandong looked back out at the starry sky, a wry smirk gracing his lips.
“Looks like I’m the child of destiny now…
Protagonists really are nothing more than tools used to guide an outcome.” In the next morning.
Stepping onto the grand balcony of the palace, Emperor Xu, the visionary ruler who had ushered the Sun Moon Empire into a progressive golden era of public welfare, gazed over the massive sea of citizens gathered in the capital’s plaza.
Usually, his addresses were filled with a gentle, fatherly warmth.
Today, however, his posture was absolute iron.
Gripping the podium, he projected his voice using a high-tier amplification soul tool, allowing the speech crafted by his son to wash over the capital like a tidal wave.
“Citizens of the Sun Moon Empire!” Emperor Xu’s voice boomed, resonating with a righteous fury that instantly silenced the bustling plaza.
“I speak to you today not merely as your Emperor, but as the father of this nation.
Our soldiers stationed at the borders are not just military assets; they are the blood and bone of this land.
They are the children of the empire.
After long, grueling cycles of defending our frontiers, these brave souls were simply making their journey home to return to the warm embrace of their families.” He paused, letting the heavy silence hang in the air before his voice dropped into a sharp, condemning cadence.
“Yet, in the dark, the Star Luo Empire laid a cowardly trap.
They ambushed our returning children in cold blood.
By the sheer grace of their own unyielding courage and the martial strength of the Sun Moon Empire, our heroes did not fall.
They fought back.
They shattered the ambush, protected their brethren, and survived.” The Emperor leaned forward, his eyes flashing with a profound, majestic anger.
“And now, the Star Luo Empire has the absolute audacity to demand an explanation from us!
They dare to send envoys to my court, demanding to know why their treacherous ambush failed.
I ask you, my people—what exactly are we supposed to explain to them?” A low, furious murmur began to ripple through the massive crowd.
“Do we have to explain how our children defended themselves against blades in the dark?
Must we apologize for the fact that our soldiers refused to simply lie down and be slaughtered?
Do we need to justify to the Star Luo Empire why we refused to let them murder the soldiers of the Sun Moon Empire and separate our families forever?” Emperor Xu raised his fist, his spirit power flaring in harmony with the absolute conviction of his words.
“They expected us to bleed quietly.
They expected us to mourn in the shadows.
But hear me now, and let every spy and envoy within our borders carry this message back to their cowardly masters: The Sun Moon Empire will never abandon the heroes who defended our land!
We do not answer to aggressors, and we will never bow to those who seek to make orphans of our children!” The plaza erupted.
A deafening roar of absolute, fanatical support tore through the capital.
The blood of the commoners and nobles alike boiled with unprecedented patriotic fervor, entirely wiping away the internal factional divides.
Just as Xu Xuandong had calculated, the sheer, unapologetic confidence radiating from the throne room firmly united the empire under one banner, sending a chilling warning to the eastern continent that a terrifying, unseen power was standing right behind them.