Xu Xuandong leaned heavily against a marble pillar in a secluded palace courtyard, his chest heaving as he panted for air.
“Forget my uncle’s coup…” he wheezed, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead.
“Big Sister Mie’er is going to murder me first!” He let out a quick, breathy chuckle.
If his crazy idea from earlier actually came to pass and his eldest sister ended up adopting Huo Yuhao down the road, that kid was going to feel safer than a vault in the Illustrious Virtue Hall.
Nobody in their right mind would mess with her.
Sighing, Xuandong leaned back and analyzed his spell output.
Xu Mie’er was a four-ring Soul Master—a genuine Soul Ancestor—and casting Charm Person on her had devoured a staggering forty percent of his total soul power just to daze her for a single second.
He only managed to pull it off because her guard had been completely down.
Had she been fully focused and channeling her soul power, the spell would have shattered instantly and dealt him severe mental backlash.
Then there was Longstrider.
Casting it to flee the dining hall had consumed ten percent of his spirit power, boosting his mobility to match a first-ring Agility-type Soul Master.
Reaching into his pocket, Xuandong pulled out a small, plump red berry—a Goodberry generated from his Druid spell slot—and popped it into his mouth.
“Hmm, yummy,” he muttered, savoring the sweet, refreshing taste.
Unlike the conjured products of Food-type Soul Masters, which provided temporary stat buffs or artificial satiety, this berry was pure, condensed life force.
The stronger his overall cultivation became, the more potent his berries would be.
Within seconds, a soothing warmth spread through his limbs.
The sourness in his muscles melted away, his fatigue washed clean, and his soul power recovery rate spiked noticeably.
He knew that if he were bleeding, it would actively mend his flesh—not because of a magic buff, but because his body was directly absorbing concentrated vitality.
It also made him reflect on how his martial soul handled magic.
In real life, spells weren’t just simple button presses.
The moment a spell unlocked, his mind was imprinted with its underlying fundamental theory.
Charm Person had gifted him intricate enchantment knowledge on how to weave external magical power into another person’s mind, while spells like Cure Wounds and Healing Word had dumped genuine anatomical and medical knowledge directly into his memory bank.
A soft rustle above broke his train of thought.
Walking over to a wide stone windowsill, Xuandong sprinkled a handful of breadcrumbs along the ledge.
A few minutes later—Chirp!
A flock of colorful songbirds fluttered down, landing gracefully on the stone.
“Want some?” Xuandong asked, waving another crimson berry between his fingers.
Chirp chirp!
“Tell me if anything special is happening around the palace grounds, and I’ll feed you all day,” he offered, flicking the berry toward the lead bird.
The little creature caught it mid-air, swallowing it happily.
Chirp, chirp-chirp!
Xuandong blinked, his eyes widening.
“What do you mean that idiot fell into the well?
Take me to her!” He dashed after the small bird as it flew across the imperial gardens, arriving at a quiet, abandoned courtyard featuring an ancient stone well.
“Here?” Xuandong asked.
The bird perched on the wooden bucket frame and nodded its small head.
Without a moment’s hesitation, Xuandong vaulted over the stone lip and plunged straight into the dark shaft!
“Crown Prince!” a distant servant shrieked from across the garden.
As he fell through the cool shadows of the deep well, a tiny, terrified voice echoed from below: “Big brother, help me!” Before she hit the water, Xuandong caught a small figure mid-air, and a pair of soaked, trembling arms clung desperately to his neck.
It was Xu Xi, one of his three younger triplet sisters.
He gently patted her wet head.
“Hold on tight.” Channeling his magic, he cast Jump, his legs surging with explosive physical power as he kicked off the muddy water and launched both of them straight out of the mouth of the well, landing cleanly on the grass above.
“Sob…
sob…” Xu Xi sobbed into his shoulder, her tiny body shaking.
“It’s fine, we’re out,” Xuandong comforted smoothly.
She looked up at him with tearful eyes.
“R-Really?” “Yes,” Xuandong smirked playfully.
“If you don’t believe me, I can throw you back down.” “Your Highness!
Are you alright?!” Xuandong turned his head at the sound of hurried footsteps.
Standing nearby, surrounded by imperial guards, was Prince Xu Tianran.
Xuandong blinked, then broke into a broad, innocent grin.
“Brother Tianran!
Welcome!
Would you like to join us?
The water is quite nice!
Ask her!” Xu Xi immediately buried her face in his neck, squeaking frantically, “Brother, no!
I don’t want to go back!” Xu Tianran’s eye twitched violently.
How does he still have any face left after looking like this?!
Suppressing his irritation, Xu Tianran stepped forward, bowing politely.
“Brother Xuandong, I was rude yesterday in the imperial court and offended you.
I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.” Xuandong looked at his cousin.
Behind that polished, respectful bow, he could see the deep, burning hatred and resentment gleaming in Xu Tianran’s eyes.
I’ll give him an 8 out of 10 for effort, Xuandong noted internally.
Passing the soaking-wet Xu Xi over to a panicked maid, Xuandong stepped toward Xu Tianran.
The purple-haired prince instantly felt a sudden, ominous chill creep down his spine.
“Don’t worry about the past, Brother Tianran,” Xuandong grinned warmly.
Xu Tianran cleared his throat, adjusting his fine robes.
“I have also dispatched a chest of top-tier spirit guidance metals to your residence as an apology.” “Ah, you shouldn’t have!” Xuandong gasped.
“Come, let us have some warm tea together!” “I must politely decline, cousin.
I have imperial lessons to—” Before Xu Tianran could finish his sentence, Xuandong threw his arms wide and aggressively wrapped him in a tight, wet bear hug.
The filthy, freezing well water instantly soaked into Xu Tianran’s pristine silk robes.
To make matters worse, Xuandong cheekily caressed Xu Tianran’s shoulders, thoroughly wiping his wet hands dry against his cousin’s fine fabric.
Xu Tianran froze, his veins popping on his forehead as pure rage nearly tore through his composure.
Satisfied with his petty revenge, Xuandong pulled back, beaming.
“Well, if you’re busy, I won’t hold you up!” Xu Tianran grit his teeth so hard they nearly shattered, stiffly bidding farewell before marching away with his wet clothes clinging to his skin.
Shortly after, a senior court maid hurried into the courtyard, bowing deeply.
“Your Highness, the Empress wishes to see you immediately.” “Lead the way,” Xuandong said casually.
The maid blinked, looking at his dripping wet attire.
“Would…
would Your Highness like to return to your residence to change clothes first?” Xuandong shook his head, waving his hand for her to proceed.
Upon reaching the Empress’s inner palace, they found his mother sitting on a velvet couch, holding a freshly bathed Xu Xi in her arms and stroking her hair.
“It’s fine, sweetie, it’s over now…” “Mother, you called me?” Xuandong asked, stepping into the room.
The Empress looked up to nod, but completely froze, staring at her son in absolute bewilderment.
“Xuandong…
why didn’t you change into dry clothes?” “It’s hot outside,” he replied deadpan.
The Empress let out a long, weary sigh, utterly helpless against her son’s absurd logic.
“Thankfully you were nearby to save Xu Xi…” “If it had been Xu Ying who fell down there, I would have left her at the bottom,” Xuandong remarked casually.
Before his mother could even begin to scold him for the mean comment, Xu Xi wriggled out of her mother’s lap and threw herself into Xuandong’s arms, crying again, “Big brother, I was so scared!” Xuandong caught her, gently patting her back.
The Empress huffed, throwing her hands up in defeat.
“We just cleaned her, and now she’s wet all over again!” Suddenly, an ear-splitting shriek pierced the room!
“LET GO OF MY SISTER!” Xuandong turned his head to see Xu Ying—the second of the triplets—glaring at him with wide, furious eyes.
She stomped over, pointing an accusing finger at his face.
“How dare you bully Xu Xi?!” Xuandong stared at her for a second, not saying a word.
Xu Xi quickly turned around, defending him loudly: “He didn’t bully me!
Big brother saved me from the well!” “I don’t believe it!” Xu Ying declared stubbornly, crossing her arms with an arrogant pucker of her lips.
“He must have tricked you!” Refusing to tolerate her spoiled brat attitude for even a second, Xuandong’s eyes narrowed.
He stepped forward with a creepy, overly dramatic smile.
“Oh, Xu Ying…
I missed you so much,” he purred.
Before she could react, Xuandong lunged forward, wrapping her in a tight, soaking-wet hug while vigorously rubbing his wet, messy hands through her perfectly combed hair!
“AAAAAAAHHHH!
GET OFF ME!
YOU’RE GETTING ME WET!
MY HAIR!” Xu Ying screamed at the top of her lungs, flailing her arms frantically.
“ENOUGH!” A thunderous shout echoed through the chamber as the Empress slammed her hand onto the table, her face twitching with an apocalyptic aura.
Both Xuandong and Xu Ying instantly froze, terrified.
In perfect unison, they snapped their heads toward their mother and pointed their index fingers directly at each other.
“He/She started it!” After getting thoroughly chewed out by the Empress for turning the inner palace into a splash zone, Xu Xuandong slunk back to his private residence, dragging his damp boots across the carpet.
He flopped onto the edge of his bed, letting out a long, exhausted sigh.
Reaching into his robes, he pulled out the sleek, dark frame of the Steam Deck.
He stared at the glossy glass screen for a long second, his thumb hovering over the power button.
“Lord Gabe, grant me strength,” he muttered under his breath.
With a soft hum of soul power, the device flared to life, booting up Baldur’s Gate 3.
Before diving in, Xuandong glanced toward the open window where a few colorful songbirds were perched along the ledge, pecking at his leftover breadcrumbs.
He pointed a finger at them.
“If anyone comes near my room, give me a chirp to warn me.” Chirp!
“Good bird.” Xuandong then pointed specifically at the small songbird he had fed earlier, placing a single plump red Goodberry on the windowsill beside it.
“You too—see that berry?
If I pass out, give it to me.” The bird gave a quick, knowing tilt of its head.
Satisfied with his tiny security system, Xuandong leaned back against his pillows and focused his consciousness on the screen.
The tactical grid initialized, immersing his mind directly into the dark, damp caverns of the Sword Coast.
For a few minutes, everything went smoothly.
He positioned his party, calculated his action points, and lined up a decisive melee attack.
He clicked to strike, waiting for the dice to roll.
A natural 1 flashed in violent red text across his vision.
CRITICAL MISS.
Before his in-game character could recover, the enemy swung back with a brutal, devastating critical hit.
“Lae’zel, you bitAAAAAh—!” The screen went pitch black.
An instant, soul-tearing agony violently ripped through Xuandong’s mind.
His soul power plummeted to absolute zero in a microsecond as the total death penalty hit his nervous system.
His vision collapsed, and his body slumped backward onto the mattress, passing out cold.
“Brother?
Xuandong…
wake up!” A gentle, frantic shaking pulled Xuandong out of the void.
He slowly forced his heavy eyelids open, his vision blurry and swimming.
Sitting right beside him on the edge of the bed was his twin sister, Xu Xia, her amber eyes filled with deep, trembling worry.
“Are you fine?!” she asked, leaning close.
“You were lying here completely unmoving!” Xuandong rubbed his throbbing temples, squeezing his eyes shut as a lingering phantom coldness echoed through his bones.
“I’m…
I’m okay,” he rasped out, his voice hoarse.
“It’s just…
due to being soaking wet earlier, I think I might have gotten a fever.” Xu Xia let out a small sigh of relief, though her brow remained slightly furrowed.
She nodded, reaching out to tuck his blanket over his shoulders.
“You need to be more careful.
You can’t just run around in wet clothes all day.” She paused, a bright, proud smile suddenly breaking across her face.
“Guess what?
I reached Rank 9 today!” Xuandong’s tired eyes softened.
Reaching out a trembling hand, he gently patted her head.
“Good job, Xia.
You’re growing so fast.
You need to hurry up and become stronger so you can protect me from Big Sister Mie’er.” Xu Xia giggled, her shoulders shaking mischievously.
“Even if Big Sister Mie’er kills you, you completely deserve it!” Xuandong instantly recoiled, clutching his chest with over-the-top, theatrical agony.
“Oh, the deception!
The betrayal!
Man, you deceived me!” Xu Xia deadpanned at his dramatic display, utterly unamused by his sudden energy shift.
She rolled her eyes, smoothing down her skirt.
“Anyway, Mother said we’re going to start going to the imperial school next week.” Xuandong paused, his dramatic expression melting into a thoughtful nod.
School next week, huh?
That meant navigating court politics among noble children, building his playboy facade, and finding discreet ways to expand his network without drawing Uncle Xu Gongfeng’s attention.
His mind instantly began running through contingency plans.
Seeing her brother stare off into space with that vacant, distant gaze, Xu Xia’s smile faded.
She leaned closer, her voice dropping into a soft, genuine whisper.
“Are you…
really fine, Xuandong?” Xuandong blinked, snapping out of his thoughts.
He gave her a soft, reassuring smile.
“I really am.
I just need some rest, alright?” Xu Xia hesitated for a long minute, searching his eyes for any sign of a lie.
Finally, she gave a quiet nod and stood up from the bed.
Walking toward the door, she paused with her hand on the brass latch, looking back over her shoulder.
“If there’s ever anything you want to talk about…
you can come to me.
I’m your twin, after all.” “I know,” Xuandong nodded gently.
“Thanks, Xia.” The heavy wooden door clicked shut, leaving the bedchamber in complete silence.
The second she was gone, the mask shattered.
Xuandong violently collapsed sideways onto the bed, his entire body shivering uncontrollably.
A sickening wave of icy trauma washed over his nerve endings as his mind recalled the absolute agony of in-game death—the worst pain he had ever felt across both of his lives combined.
The horrifying sensation of his soul being shredded, his blood running cold, and his vitality being drained into an absolute void left him gasping for air.
In that agonizing second, a terrifying, instinctual urge clawed at his heart: Never open the Steam Deck again.
He gripped the silk bedsheets tightly, forcing his hyperventilating lungs into a steady rhythm.
“Man…
I really need to become a masochist if I’m gonna keep playing this game,” he muttered into his pillow.
Even though he managed to crack a self-deprecating joke, his hands were still shaking uncontrollably.
He let out a long, shaky sigh, staring up at the dark canopy above.
He needed rest, but as his mind gradually stabilized, his analytical habits as a former gamer took over, systematically reviewing the mechanics of Baldur’s Gate 3.
First, the sensory feedback was terrifyingly absolute.
It wasn’t just visual; he could feel everything happening inside the game—the exact ambient temperature of the damp caverns, the scorching heat of fire spells, and even the heavy, prickling gaze of hostile monsters tracking his movement.
Suddenly, a wildly intrusive thought slammed into his brain.
Wait a minute…
if sensory feedback works both ways, what happens when my approval rating with companions reaches a decent level and the romance scenes trigger?!
Will I actually feel whatever they’re doing?!
Xuandong froze.
If that turned out to be true, he swore he would open a private journal and write a very specific diary entry: “the taste of Tiefling ain’t bad” He violently shook his head, slapping his own cheeks to purge the absurd thought before it took root.
“Focus, you idiot!” Second, proficiencies and backgrounds weren’t just abstract numbers or flat stat boosts—they were direct knowledge transfers into his actual brain.
His Outlander background gave him complete, instinctual wilderness survival skills.
As a Sun Moon prince in this life and an average city kid on Earth whose closest encounter with the wild was watching Outdoor Boys videos on YouTube, he had zero practical survival knowledge.
But now?
Thanks to the Outlander background, if someone dropped him bare-handed into the depths of the Great Star Dou Forest tomorrow, he would easily survive and thrive.
Then came skill proficiencies.
Choosing Animal Handling granted him the intrinsic, deep knowledge of how to tame wild beasts and spirit beasts.
Nature proficiency allowed his soul to connect far deeper with natural environments, granting him environmental awareness to endure extreme climates.
Finally, there was the fuel consumption.
Running the game actively drained his soul power.
At his current Rank 15 output, his raw reserves could only sustain a maximum of one hour of gameplay before leaving him completely dry.
Fortunately, as his in-game character grew stronger and his real-world cultivation advanced, the efficiency would improve, reducing the strain on his soul.
Xuandong pulled the heavy blanket over his chest, feeling the soothing warmth finally seep back into his frozen limbs.
Closing his eyes, he let out one last weary breath, letting sleep drag him down into the dark.