The rhythmic clatter of iron-shod wheels against cobblestone echoed hollowly inside the enclosed carriage.
Xuandong sat curled on the plush velvet bench, his knees pulled tight against his chest, his head resting heavily on his lap.
Outside, the commander of the royal guard rode alongside the window, his voice laced with sweat and panic.
“Crown Prince!
Your Highness, are you unharmed?
Please, give us a word!” Xuandong didn’t answer.
He didn’t move a muscle.
He squeezed his eyes shut, forcing his face to remain entirely blank and unreadable.
If the imperial court—and more importantly, the hungry wolves waiting in the shadows—believed this sudden, bloody ambush had shattered his spirit, his transition into a useless, hedonistic, traumatized playboy would be seamless.
A prince who spent his days drowning in wine, luxury, and foolish hobbies to cope with severe PTSD was a crown prince nobody would bother assassinating a second time.
When the heavy carriage finally ground to a halt inside the inner courtyard of the Royal Palace, the doors were thrown open before the step-stool could even be set down.
“Dong’er!” A pair of warm, trembling arms wrapped fiercely around him, pulling him out of the dark carriage and pressing him into a soft, scented embrace.
It was his mother, the Empress.
Her body was shaking violently, her breath catching in ragged sobs as she buried her face in his neck, holding him so tightly he could barely breathe.
“You’re safe…
Thank the gods, you’re safe…” she wept, her fingers digging into his back as if proving to herself he was made of flesh and not a corpse.
Before he could process the embrace, another small body slammed into his side.
Xu Xia, his twin sister, wrapped her arms around his waist, her face buried in his robes.
Her shoulders heaved with silent, violent sobs, her big eyes brimming with tears when she finally looked up at him, her lips trembling uncontrollably.
“Brother…” she choked out, her voice raw.
Around them, the rest of his sisters had gathered.
Even Xu Mie’er stood nearby, her usual fierce, military posture replaced by a fragile, shaken stance.
Behind her, Xu Ying—the sister who spent ninety percent of her waking hours arguing with him, stealing his snacks, and calling him an idiot—was wiping her eyes with her sleeve, her lower lip tucked violently between her teeth as she stared at his blood-stained sleeve in absolute horror.
A heavy, suffocating aura settled over the courtyard.
A few feet away stood the Emperor of the Sun Moon Empire.
His knuckles turned stark white as he clenched his fists so hard the joints popped like firecrackers.
His eyes were bloodshot, radiating an abyssal, terrifying wrath.
Someone had dared to launch a full-scale military ambush against his son and heir within the boundaries of the capital.
It was a direct slap to the imperial throne’s face.
“Your Imperial Majesty.” A dry, raspy voice broke through the crying.
Prince Xu Gongfeng stepped out from the shade of the grand archway, his dark robes fluttering in the evening breeze.
His sharp, snake-like eyes scanned Xuandong from head to toe, taking in the bloodstains, the distant stare, and the trembling body.
Upon confirming Xuandong was alive and largely uninjured, Xu Gongfeng let out a long, slow sigh of relief.
It was a genuine sigh—Xuandong could tell with a single glance.
But it had nothing to do with familial love or relief for a nephew’s safety.
Xu Gongfeng’s entire political timeline depended on keeping the court stable until Xu Tianran was fully positioned.
If the Crown Prince died right now, the Emperor’s fury would trigger a scorched-earth purge across the capital, potentially forcing an early, messy civil war before their factions were ready.
Xu Gongfeng walked closer, his expression molding into one of deep, paternal concern.
“Crown Prince…
are you alright?
Who could have committed such an atrocious act against the heir to the empire?” As he asked the second question, Xu Gongfeng’s dark eyes locked onto Xuandong’s face, drilling into him, searching for any sign of recognition, any hint of who Xuandong suspected.
Xuandong felt a vein throb violently in his temple.
He had to summon every single ounce of raw willpower, mental fortitude, and composure he possessed just to stop himself from opening his mouth and saying: ‘The mistake you call a son.’ Instead, Xuandong offered no reply.
He simply stared past Xu Gongfeng with vacant, unblinking eyes, shrinking back slightly into his mother’s shoulder as if frightened by the voice itself.
The Emperor stepped forward, placing a heavy hand on his wife’s shoulder while glaring coldly at Xu Gongfeng.
“Xuandong is clearly unwell.
We will investigate this matter to the absolute ends of the continent.
Every soul tool, every lead, every shadow in this city will be turned upside down.” Xu Gongfeng bowed deeply, his face a mask of loyal deference.
“Naturally, Your Majesty.
I will also mobilize my personal guards to search for the culprits.
We cannot let such treason go unpunished.” He bowed once more to the weeping Empress, shot one last unreadable look at Xuandong, and bid his farewell, sweeping away down the marble steps.
No sooner had he left than three familiar figures rushed into the courtyard, breathless and disheveled.
Ye Guan, Ye Ling, and Ye Xing ran up to the royal family.
Ye Xing’s face was deathly pale.
He stared at Xuandong, his hands shaking at his sides, his eyes completely consumed by a crushing, agonizing guilt.
Ever since they had met, Xuandong had done nothing but treat him with immense generosity.
Xuandong had willingly given up the Sun Devour Scavenger, allowing Ye Xing to obtain an external spirit bone, Xuandong hadn’t blamed him for a single second.
Worst of all, when the deadly soul tool attack hit them during the ambush, Xuandong had shoved Ye Xing out of harm’s way, taking the force of the blast himself—a sacrifice that left the Crown Prince isolated, hunted, and fighting through a desperate bloodbath.
“Xuandong…” Ye Xing choked out, his voice cracking with guilt.
“I…
I’m sorry…” Xuandong slowly turned his head, his voice raspy, dry, and entirely devoid of its usual lively spark.
“I…
I just want to rest.” Without waiting for a response, he turned away, dragging his feet toward his inner palace chambers.
However, as he reached his bedroom doors, he felt a constant weight dragging beside him.
Xu Xia was still clinging to his arm like an immovable limpet, her small hands locked into his fabric, her tear-stained face set in a stubborn, unyielding scowl.
Xuandong stopped at the threshold and looked down at his twin.
“Xia’er…
I want to be alone.” Xu Xia didn’t loosen her grip by even a millimeter.
She buried her face back into his arm, squeezing him even harder.
“No,” she muffled into his sleeve, her tone leaving zero room for debate.
“I’m not leaving.” Exhausted, Xuandong looked back over his shoulder toward his mother, hoping for an intervention.
The Empress wiped a stray tear from her cheek and gave him a soft, heartbroken smile.
She nodded gently at her daughter.
“Let her stay with you tonight, Dong’er.
Xia’er was nearly out of her mind with fear when the news reached us.
She won’t sleep a wink unless she knows you’re breathing right beside her.” Xuandong stared at his mother, then down at his twin sister, who was currently holding onto his waist as if he might vanish into thin air if she let go.
Sighing silently in his mind, he realized there was no winning this fight.
He turned back around, pulled Xu Xia into the dimly lit room with him, and let the heavy wooden doors click shut behind them.
The grand chamber plunged into soft shadow.
Xuandong dragged his feet toward the sprawling bed, with Xu Xia scrambling right up next to him.
Her fingers remained firmly locked onto his sleeve as she curled up, staring intensely at the floor with red, swollen eyes.
Alright, Xuandong thought.
If I want everyone to buy that I’m broken, I need an eyewitness who can swear I’m completely shattered.
And having my twin right here is perfect.
He sat back against the pillows, closing his eyes to let his breathing grow heavy.
The plan was simple: pretend to fall into a fitful sleep, wait until the middle of the night, and then wake up thrashing in a fake terror nightmare.
A few frantic, traumatized mutters, and boom—the seed of the broken, helpless playboy persona is officially planted.
Now…
what should I actually scream when I wake up?
Xuandong mused, leaning back against the plush pillows while letting his eyes half-close.
He began brainstorming options in his head.
“No!
No, stop!
Don’t come any closer!” …Wait, no.
Absolutely not.
Xuandong caught himself mid-thought, a silent shudder running down his spine.
That sounds…
deeply, horrifyingly wrong.
If someone hears that out in the hallway, they’re going to think something entirely different happened in those alleyways.
Scrapped.
He tried another one.
“It hurts!
Stop, please!” Worse.
Exponentially worse.
Xuandong resisted the urge to physically facepalm.
If I say that, my mother will have fifty imperial physicians in here by sunrise inspecting me for invisible curses, and Xu Mie’er will probably execute the entire guard detail out of sheer panic.
He already gave Ji Juechen a strict script to feed the royal guards regarding how the ambush went down.
He couldn’t afford to be too creative here and accidentally contradict the narrative or sound like a complete weirdo Forget the elaborate lines, he settled, feign a nightmare, wake up shouting, and make it look like pure, extreme trauma.
No need to overcomplicate things with scripted lines.
Just a raw, terrified shout to set the act in motion.
Meanwhile, inside the hidden halls of Prince Xu Gongfeng’s personal residence, the atmosphere was heavy enough to crush a lesser man.
Crack!
The sharp, thunderous sound of a palm striking flesh rang through the silent chamber.
Xu Tianran was sent sprawling across the polished marble floor, his cheek instantly swelling into a deep, angry red.
Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth as he scrambled to his hands and knees, gasping for air.
“How dare you…” Prince Xu Gongfeng stood over him, his face contorted into a mask of raw, terrifying fury.
Crack!
Another slap threw Xu Tianran back to the ground.
“I explicitly told you to keep a low profile and not cause trouble!” Xu Gongfeng barked, his voice trembling with rage as he grabbed Xu Tianran by his collar and hauled him up.
“And what do you do?
You send armed assassins to ambush the Crown Prince in broad daylight!
Tianran, do you take my words as meaningless noise?!” With every sentence, Xu Gongfeng hit him again, the impact echoing like iron striking stone.
Xu Tianran, the proud and ambitious prince, was reduced to tears, clutching his bruised face as he sobbed and begged for mercy.
“Father…
Father, stop!
Please!
I was only trying to—” Crack!
“Shut your mouth!” Xu Gongfeng roared, striking him down once more.
“Stop!
Please, stop!
You’ll kill him!” A woman rushed out from behind the velvet curtains, throwing herself over Xu Tianran’s bruised body.
It was his mother, her hair disheveled and her eyes swollen with tears as she shielded her son, weeping frantically.
Xu Gongfeng didn’t even hesitate.
His hand whipped around, striking her squarely across the jaw and sending her tumbling onto the floor beside her son.
“You!” Xu Gongfeng pointed a trembling, fury-laced finger at her.
“How dare you mobilize high-ranking operatives to attempt an assassination without informing me first?!
You arrogant fools!
Do you have any idea what you’ve almost done?!” He took a step back, breathing heavily, his eyes cold enough to freeze blood.
“Scram out of my sight.
Both of you.
Before I decide to clean house myself.” Sobbing, the woman scrambled to pull Xu Tianran up, dragging her bruised, trembling son out of the chamber as fast as their legs could carry them.
Once the heavy doors sealed shut, leaving Xu Gongfeng alone in the dark room, a low, sinister chuckle echoed from the shadows.
“Hehehe…
How ruthless, Prince Xu Gongfeng.
Hitting your own blood and line so mercilessly.” A tall, gaunt figure clad in pitch-black robes slowly coalesced from the darkness, his face obscured by a lingering, toxic mist.
Xu Gongfeng scoffed, casually smoothing down his wrinkled sleeves without looking back.
“A tool that decides to act on its own and disobey orders is no longer useful—it’s a liability.
If they cause my grand plan to collapse prematurely, I have no use for rebellious garbage.” He turned his cold gaze toward the dark figure.
“More importantly…
how are things on your end?” The shadowy figure let out another dry, rasping laugh.
“Rest assured.
Every single cultist and mercenary who participated in the Crown Prince’s ambush has already been silenced.
Their bodies have been completely erased.
Not even a trace of their spirit power remains.” Xu Gongfeng gave a stiff, single nod.
“Good.” Back in the grand imperial court, the atmosphere was no less terrifying.
The Emperor sat upon his high throne, his face twisted in unbridled wrath.
Below him, dozens of imperial generals, secret service commanders, and high-ranking soul engineers knelt on the cold stone, sweating through their armor.
“Search every inch of this capital!” the Emperor’s voice boomed across the hall, shaking the decorative pillars.
“Form a blockade around every gate!
Mobilize the Royal Guard, the Imperial Soul Engineer Corps, and the shadow squads!
I want every house, every dark alley, and every black market turned completely inside out!” He slammed his fist down onto the armrest of his throne, shattering the solid gold structure into pieces.
“Whoever dared to strike at my son…
bring me their heads, or I will take yours!” The scene shifted back to the dimly lit interior of the crown prince’s bedroom.
Xuandong lay motionless on the massive bed, his eyes fixed on the dark ceiling.
Xu Xia was fast asleep beside him, her small hands still clutching his sleeve in a vice-like grip, her breathing rhythmic and heavy.
Alright, Xuandong thought, adjusting his posture slightly.
Time for phase two.
Let’s make this sound authentic.
He began a silent mental countdown.
3…
2…
1…
“Xuandong.” A voice suddenly resonated directly inside his mind, clear and sharp, cutting off his internal timer.
Xuandong flinched slightly, keeping his body as still as possible so as not to wake his sister.
“Do not move,” the voice continued.
“I am using a targeted long-range sound-transmission soul tool to speak to you directly.
No one else can hear this.” Xuandong recognized the aura immediately.
It was Ye Guan.
“Old man, “Xuandong shot back mentally, lacing his thought with a heavy dose of annoyanc.” Can’t you see I’m currently having a severe mental breakdown and crippling trauma?
Come bother me later, I’m busy suffering.” A dry, raspy chuckle echoed through the transmission.
“Since you still have the spirit to make ridiculous jokes, it seems you are fine” “What do you want?
“Xuandong grumbled.
“First, I must give you my genuine thanks,” Ye Guan said, his tone turning heavy and solemn.
“You saved my grandson’s life today.
If you hadn’t shoved Xing’er out of the way of that soul tool blast, he would be dead.
The Ye family owes you a debt that cannot be easily repaid.” Save the tears for later,” Xuandong replied.
“Is that all you called to say?” “No,” Ye Guan’s voice turned ice-cold, radiating a suppressed, terrifying intent.
“I need to know.
Who was behind the ambush?
Who wanted you both dead?” Without a second of hesitation, Xuandong answered in his mind: “Xu Tianran.” There was a brief pause on the other end.
“Xu Tianran?
Are you certain?
How can you be so sure?” Xuandong narrowed his eyes.
The real answer lay in his secondary power system.
Upon reaching Level 3 in his Druid class, he had selected the Circle of the Land subclass, specifically choosing the Desert biome to align with the vast, arid expanses of the Sun Moon Empire.
The moment he made that choice, his connection to the surrounding world solidified, allowing him to passively tap into ambient nature energy and heighten his perception to an uncanny degree.
During the chaos of the attack, his desert-tuned senses had picked up something vital.
“One of the high-level soul masters leading the frontline assault had a soul power signature that was a 30% match to Xu Tianran’s own bloodline, “Xuandong explained smoothly, framing it through his unique natural perception.
“It wasn’t Xu Gongfeng.
The old fox is too cautious; he would never launch an assassination this sloppy or uncoordinated without months of careful preparation.
The attacker belongs to Xu Tianran’s maternal side.” He scoffed softly in his mind.
Honestly, the ambush itself was an absolute trainwreck of planning.
If my guards hadn’t been burdened with carrying so many civilians while trying to retreat in a rush, those hitmen wouldn’t have landed a single solid blow on us.
Silence hung in the link for two seconds before Ye Guan growled, his voice laced with pure venom.
“Marquess Lu…” Exactly, Xuandong said.
“If you want to investigate and dig up hard proof, don’t waste your time tailing Xu Gongfeng.
Go straight after Lu Wang instead.” “I see…” Ye Guan breathed, the air around his distant location practically vibrating with anger.
“I need to move immediately.” “Hold your horses, old man Xuandong interrupted.
Before you run off, answer me something.
You’re a Super Douluo.
With your absurd sensory range, you should have felt the soul power fluctuations the second the fight broke out in the capital.
Why did it take you so long to show up?” Ye Guan let out a heavy, tired sigh through the tool.
“I was out of the capital.
I was dispatched to the southern provinces to investigate the sudden murder of an imperial noble—an attack carried out by Evil Soul Masters.” Xuandong blinked.
For a second, he just stared at the canopy above, and then a wide, mischievous grin broke across his face.
He had to bite his lip to keep from laughing out loud.
“Xu Gongfeng must be coughing up blood out of pure rage right now, Xuandong chuckled silently Two separate assassination attempts involving Evil Soul Masters in a single week, and both targets belong directly to the Emperor’s faction!
The old fox is getting framed by his own moronic son’s mess” He wiped the grin off his face, his eyes sharpening.
“Old man…
I want revenge.” “I want blood just as much as you do,” Ye Guan replied sternly.
“But we cannot act rashly.
Striking an imperial Marquess right now is far too risky.
A single wrong move will throw the entire court into chaos.” “Who said anything about acting rashly?
“Xuandong countered.
“Hear my plan out first.
We execute it in two weeks, right during my and Xia’er’s joint birthday banquet.
Hear me out” Silence descended over the soul tool link.
A long, agonizing minute passed where Xuandong could hear nothing but the faint crackle of spirit power.
“You are completely insane,” Ye Guan finally spoke, his voice deadpan.
“That plan is beyond stupid.
It is suicidal.” “So what?” Xuandong smirked into the dark room.
“If it works, it completely severs Xu Tianran’s right arm and gives us a massive, permanent advantage in court.
A huge boon to our faction.” “And if it fails,” Ye Guan countered sharply, “a full-scale civil war erupts in the middle of the imperial capital overnight!” Risk it for the biscuit, Xuandong quoted with absolute, unbothered confidence.
“What do you say, old man?
Are you in, or are you going to sit around waiting for them to take another shot at Xing’er?” Another painfully long silence stretched out.
Finally, a heavy, defeated sigh echoed in Xuandong’s mind.
“…Only a lunatic like you could come up with something this outrageously crazy,” Ye Guan muttered, the faint sound of a smirk entering his rugged voice.
“Fine.
Count me in.”