It was the coronation of the new monarch. The biting chill of early spring could not suppress the festive air permeating the imperial capital, which eventually drifted toward the Xiaotong Pass.
Nan Rongchen lay on a soft couch with his eyes closed. The scars on his wrists, crisscrossed by several chains, were still oozing beads of blood.
In truth, keeping his eyes open served little purpose other than adding to his exhaustion; this dark prison never saw a sliver of light day or night.
Rough calculations revealed that he had been here for thirteen days and three double-hours since regaining consciousness.
He had no need to know his whereabouts or the situation outside, so he maintained a tacit silence with the physicians and attendants who came and went from time to time.
He listened to nothing, spoke of nothing, and looked at nothing, spending his days in a daze, finally enjoying a rare moment of peace.
Barring any unforeseen circumstances, he would likely die of blood loss before the mute servant arrived with his meal.
His wrists now felt only a numb, dull pain. A fierce wave of dizziness washed over him, and a few disjointed voices rang in his ears, blurring the line between reality and illusion.
“Nan Rongchen, I stated that you would fall into my hands!”
“You deserve to end up like this.”
“Tomorrow I will personally drag you back to Shule. You had better figure out in advance how to beg for mercy!”
Nan Rongchen’s consciousness was muddled, rendering him unable to distinguish truth from falsehood, let alone recognize who was speaking. After all, far too many people regarded him as an enemy.
Though his downfall was somewhat pathetic and ridiculous, he was, after all, a sovereign of a realm. Having been deceived into fighting a lifelong losing battle for others by a court of loyal ministers, capable generals, and his imperial parents was foolish enough.
How and when he died, he would decide for himself.
Of course, he knew well that he was no benevolent monarch. Ever since that poisoned short arrow pierced his arm when he was fourteen, that toxic blood had latched onto him, seeping gradually into his bones and heart.
Affection in the imperial family was thin, and fratricide was a common occurrence. Fortunately, he was the legitimate son of the Empress and had always been deeply favored by the late Emperor, following that ordeal, the Emperor not only severely punished the culprit but also issued a decree the very next day appointing him Crown Prince.
He had never doubted the clear favoritism and protection recognized by the entire court.
Henceforth, to secure his position as Crown Prince and to live up to the late Emperor’s painstaking efforts, he stripped away the tender heart nurtured by the sages’ books, learning step by step how to wield power and maintain checks and balances. Those brothers who rushed to contend with him all returned in defeat.
Among them, King Su, Nan Rongxian, fought the fiercest, repeatedly attempting to prune away his trusted aides.
Although he had triumphed thoroughly, he was not completely ignorant of political maneuvering and human nature. Yet, looking back now, he still could not understand why Nan Rongxian had once regarded a guard by his side as a thorn in his side, seeking his death on several occasions.
That guard was named Chen Ping. True to his name, his rank was humble and his martial arts mediocre, but he had a cheerful face that looked just like a New Year’s doll. When Nan Rongchen first saw him, he could not resist pinching those cheeks twice, and later simply kept the man by his side as a lucky charm.
In the second year of his entry into the Eastern Palace, another imperial prince arrived in the palace: Nanrong Chengyu, his younger brother, who had been left wandering outside in his early years due to a rebel uprising.
Nan Rongchengyu was three years younger than him, having suffered through hardship among the common people for many years. He possessed no grand bearing and, upon returning to the palace draped in fine clothes, remained silent and submissive. Whenever he saw Nan Rongchen, he always wore a downcast, destitute expression. Suspicious as Nan Rongchen was, he had sensed no threat whatsoever.
Later, the late Emperor passed away, and Nan Rongchen ascended the imperial platform, becoming the ruler of Nanyue. With iron-fisted methods, he warded off foreign threats and pacified internal strife, staining his hands with plenty of blood.
Perhaps, just as the people of the world claimed, retribution was swift: in the seventh year of his reign, he was reduced within days to a tyrant reviled by the entire world.
His former loyal ministers, led by the regents appointed by the late Emperor, accused him of patricide, fratricide, and usurping the state.
At first, he merely found it absurd and laughable, but later he realized that the truly laughable one was himself.
The Empress Dowager produced the late Emperor’s posthumous edict, proclaiming to the world that he was not of imperial blood. Coupled with a divination obtained from the Witch God, he completely transformed into a usurping tyrant who would cause Nanyue to perish in its second generation.
And his younger uterine brother, Nan Rongchengyu, was the true object of the late Emperor’s sacred heart, the destined ruler ordained by Heaven, and a benevolent, enlightened sovereign.
Putting everything else aside, Nan Rongchengyu was quite adept at acting. Half a month ago, when Nan Rongchen was covered in blood with eyes reddened from slaughter and was pierced through the chest by an arrow, Nan Rongchengyu had rushed over, pulled him into his arms, clumsily severed half his robe to wrap his wounds, and urgently summoned imperial physicians, acting as though he were terrified he would die.
To show such deep solicitude for the elder brother who had usurped his throne, Nan Rongchengyu truly possessed a constant, benevolent heart.
If not for the chains binding his wrists and ankles upon waking, and the fact that he was locked in a dark prison outfitted with ingenious mechanisms, he might have nearly been grateful for Nan Rongchengyu sparing his life.
In the end, he was still reduced to a pawn in Nan Rongchengyu’s hands, adding a stroke of benevolence to Nan Rongchengyu’s character. To fall to his current state was truly cowardly.
Tracing it back, a single feathered arrow had given Nan Rongchengyu the opportunity to imprison and humiliate him, and that arrow had been shot by Imperial Preceptor Xiao Yuanqing.
Xiao Yuanqing had been the Junior Preceptor of the Crown Prince in his early years, accompanying him for several years. The man was as pure as the moon in the clear sky, and in the year of Nan Rongchen’s accession, he had played a zither piece to confess his feelings.
Ever since entering the Eastern Palace, Nan Rongchen had spent his days mired in schemes and plots, but he had also read a few popular romances and was not entirely ignorant of romantic matters. Before long, he brushed aside his surprise and, quite uncharacteristically, felt a spark of relief: his teacher possessed peerless talent and a bright, breezy demeanor; his teacher treated him with sincere heart; his teacher fancied him.
Besides, weighed down for so long by palace rules and various calculations, embarking on a path of rebellion felt rather exhilarating.
He walked to Xiao Yuanqing’s side, plucked a zither string, and swore an oath like the protagonist in a romance novel, “Teacher, Gu, I, will surely build a high terrace to worship the bright moon hereafter.”
Yet storybooks were false after all. Facts proved that he was a sovereign, oh right, a tyrant, and harboring the delusion of a lifelong soulmate was simply asking for self-inflicted torment.
As his grand enterprise neared completion, before he even had time to build the high terrace, he was surrounded by a heavy military force at the Witch God Temple.
Xiao Yuanqing stepped through the snow with an umbrella, his gaze cold and desolate, declaring that the realm should belong to a wise ruler and urging him to surrender without a fight.
Things having reached this pass, he naturally would not ask the infatuated question of romance novels: “Did you ever treat me with sincerity?”
Yet Xiao Yuanqing insisted on answering him, “Nan Rongchen, you and I have never had grace or righteousness; we have only enmity.”
Hearing this, he merely curled his finger to wipe the blood from his sword. Enemies were enemies; one more like Xiao Yuanqing made little difference.
Before brandishing his sword to fight his way out, he raised his gaze to glance at the solemn, unchanged statue of the Witch God and twitched the corner of his mouth. A tyrant entering hell deserved to be welcomed by fresh snow stained with blood.
The heavy snow finally stopped, his royal sword slipped from his hand, and he indifferently pulled out the arrow piercing his chest, thrusting it backhand into the neck of a charging soldier.
Imperial Preceptor Xiao Yuanqing was noble and upright, capable of rattling off exquisite essays and all manner of strategic discourses with ease, serving as a model for the scholars of his time. Yet, when all was said and done, he was merely a scholar with no capability to truss a chicken.
That arrow had missed its mark, failing to kill his enemy, but instead blocking his path into reincarnation and reducing him to a prisoner in chains.
Otherwise, he wouldn’t need to calculate the hour to seek death now, nor would he need to violently bite open the blood vessels in his wrists. The mouthful of metallic blood tasted nauseating, and he intensely disliked it.
Most importantly, this tyrant was actually afraid of pain.
Before losing consciousness, he was left with only a single thought: this world possessed cold moons, warm suns, and blossoming flowers, but none of it had anything to do with him. He would not come back next time.
Three hours later, Helian Yi went and returned.
The tall, pine-like figure wore a practical dark combat outfit. At this moment, his thin lips were tightly pressed, and his deep, hawk-like eyes carried a gloomy gaze that sent cold sweat coursing down the guards.
Trembling, the guard resorted to his routine of flattery, “Your Highness, rest assured. This subordinate constantly bears the lords’ instructions in mind and will properly guard the criminal Nan Rongchen.”
Everyone in the imperial court knew that years ago, Nan Rongchen had personally led troops to rout Shule step by step, causing the Crown Prince Helian Yi, who had been sent to Shangjing as a hostage, to suffer no small amount of humiliation.
The wheel of fortune turns; now that their positions were reversed, Helian Yi had rendered great service in restoring the state and was soon to succeed as the King of Shule. Dealing with a deposed tyrant was exceptionally easy.
Helian Yi’s irritation had nowhere to vent. He abruptly halted, raised his foot, and kicked the guard, sending him sprawling to the ground with a grimace.
“Is Nan Rongchen a name you are permitted to utter?”
It must have been these scum who tampered with things, which was why Nan Rongchen hadn’t answered a single word of his.
He was going to take the man away right now, not for any other reason, but simply because he wanted Nan Rongchen to retain enough breath to bow his head before him in person.
A wave of static pierced into the soul, followed by several bizarre voices.
[The “Rule the World” system is officially bound.]
[Due to severe OOC behavior of the villain, the protagonist faction’s hatred value is insufficient. Following the villain’s death, the world collapsed, and book reviews fell into chaos.]
[Host: Villain Nan Rongchen. Mission: Replay the plot, avoid OOC behavior, maximize the protagonist faction’s hatred value. Reward: Escape death through faked demise.]
Nan Rongchen raised a hand to press his throbbing temple, roughly piecing together the situation:
He was a tyrannical villain in a book, the civet cat swapped for the crown prince in the Civet Cat for Prince trope, and the state-destroying tyrant prophesied by the Witch God: ruthless and vicious in harming his siblings, and bellicose in waging endless wars that plunged the people into misery.
Prince Xiang, Nan Rongchengyu, was the protagonist of the book. Having returned to the imperial capital through countless hardships and biding his time for several years, he ultimately overthrew the tyrant, governed diligently after ascending the throne, unified the realm, and became an enlightened monarch cherished by his subjects.
His very existence was meant to serve as a clownish foil to highlight the protagonist’s wisdom and virtue.
However, according to System 365, the actual developments after his death deviated from the plot, and he was the cause. Therefore, he had to go through this once more, playing a qualified villain to accentuate the protagonist’s success and talent.
As a reward, he would be granted a way to survive once the affair concluded.
Nan Rongchen slowly opened his eyes, looking past the twelve strings of pearls warmed by the morning sun to the officials arrayed on both sides of the grand hall.
The nine dragon-carved golden pillars of absolute majesty dazzled his eyes. The endless clamor of the ministers belonging to the pro-war and pro-peace factions echoed incessantly, while the system kept up its persistent beep.
Nan Rongchen felt his sins did not warrant this; even in death, he could not find peace.
365: [Before the mission commences, the Host must also familiarize himself with the violating comments. Throughout the mission, the system will display violating comments in real time to assist the Host in adjusting behavior.]
[Examples of violating comments are as follows:]
[Baby, you’re a little cat, so what if a cat eats hotpot?]
[Wife, don’t reward him ahhhh! If you bring that whip down, Dog Helian is going to GG explode.]
[A plague on those damn dogs for actually killing my wife, wuwuwu.]
[Just saying one thing: Nan Rongchen is so striking even in death, crazy and gorgeous. Who can possibly handle this?!]
Nan Rongchen finished listening cursorily, arriving at a single conclusion: the scholars of that world lacked any originality when hurling insults. Calling people cats, dogs, or foxes was utterly uninteresting.
[The plot will be repaired starting from Chapter 20. Mission 1: Coerce the Chief Astrologer to issue the Witch God’s divination favoring military action against Yuezhi.]
[Please abide by the rules, Host, and complete the mission as soon as possible.]
The annoying voice in his head finally vanished, and Nan Rongchen rested his head on his hand, listening to the unending argument still raging in the hall.
Stepping outside the role of sovereign to observe, these senior statesmen were indeed vigorous in their old age, exposing each other’s old scandals without end simply to lecture him on how to rule.
The current dispute concerned the dispatch of troops to Yuezhi.
“Your Majesty, launching massive military campaigns right after your accession may invite Heaven’s disfavor, and this move also makes neighboring vassal states uneasy!”
“All land under heaven belongs to the king. Yuezhi has long colluded with Shule, eyeing our Linyue with covetous eyes. If we do not pursue the victory now, are we to wait for Shule to recover its vitality and invade our borders?”
“You old fogey only knows how to shout about killing and fighting. Where will the grain and fodder come from? Will your Li family procure it?”
“My Li family provides the grain; are you Zhao folks worthy of eating it? Can a single member of your family draw a bow? Better shrink back into your Ministry of Revenue to line your pockets!”
Seeing both factions descend once more into reckless verbal brawls, King Su, Nan Rongxian, watched the spectacle while uninhibitedly scrutinizing the figure on the imperial throne.
A stretch of wrist, white as frost and snow, protruded from the bright yellow imperial robe, languidly propping up his head. Wavy dark hair cascaded over his hand, and the twelve jade strings of the sovereign’s crown tilted slightly, revealing the peerless beauty of the greater part of his face, yet tinged inexplicably with a sickly pallor.
Beautiful as he was, those upturned phoenix eyes were as calm as stagnant water. Finding it uninteresting, Nan Rongxian stepped forward holding his court tablet and bantered, “If this argument continues, the old secrets of these lords will be entirely exposed, leaving them with no way to conduct themselves in court hereafter. We trust Your Majesty will make a prompt decision.”
At these words, the hall fell silent for a fraction of a second. The figures who had been arguing fiercely a moment before cast sidelong, hostile glances at Nan Rongxian, perhaps finally realizing they had argued for too long today, before dropping uniformly to their knees, “We trust Your Majesty will make a prompt decision.”
This scene was identical to his past life; what they were fighting over, at the end of the day, was the issue of provisions.
In his past life, Nan Rongchen went through untold difficulties and unhesitatingly used himself as bait to snare foreign grain reserves, successfully dispatching troops against Yuezhi.
Yet in the end, one of his charges was colluding with foreign nations to disrupt the borders, disregarding the lives of the common people merely to consolidate royal authority.
Such thankless tasks that invited curses were things he would never do again.
As for the mission assigned by 365, forcing the Chief Astrologer to deduce the divination that dispatching troops to Yuezhi is the will of the Witch God and the supreme strategy, and using that as a pretext to wage war, it was not an overly difficult task.
However, the blame for forcefully levying grain, draining the imperial treasury, and crushing the populace with heavy taxes would naturally fall upon him, the villain.
Someone had offered him this very strategy in his past life, but he had never believed in the Witch God, nor was he foolish enough to adopt such a scheme.
Moreover, back then he still harbored delusions of becoming an enlightened monarch; he understood the principle of pacifying the people before launching military expeditions.
Presently, he wished to choose neither; it was too troublesome.
He braced his armrests to stand, paced down the five white jade steps, his robes brushing past Nan Rongxian who was half-bowed, and finally stopped before Nan Rongchengyu, the protagonist of the book.
Nan Rongchengyu was as respectful and polite as ever. After Nan Rongchen drew close, he bowed even lower, as if terrified of offending the imperial countenance.
Nan Rongchen found this amusing and made no effort to hold back. He hooked the corners of his lips, used two fingers to pull the court tablet from Nan Rongchengyu’s grasp, casually tossed it aside, and turned to ascend the jade steps once more amid the sound of jade striking the floor.
“Gao Zhong, pass down my decree, abdicating the throne in favor of…”
Halfway through the sentence, a sharp pain pierced his heart.
[Violation warning! Do not deviate from the plot, or punishment will be executed.]
Ignoring it completely, he steadied his footing and stepped onto the final jade step, “Nan Rong…”
Before the final two syllables could leave his lips, the taste of blood flooded his throat, and he coughed up a mouthful of blood that splattered and stained his palm.
He wiped the blood from the corners of his lips, realizing it was futile, and abandoned the effort. Lowering his gaze, he surveyed the kneeling ministers and the two leading princes.
King Su, Nan Rongxian, was not an orthodox imperial prince, yet he had stubbornly fought for the throne. After suffering defeat at Nan Rongchen’s hands, he remained unreconciled, frequently leveraging his maternal clan’s influence to oppose him.
Perhaps obsession had driven him mad, and Nan Rongxian’s actions grew increasingly unhinged. At this moment, hearing only half of the decree, he looked up at Nan Rongchen, the ambition and desire burning in his eyes nearly frantic, without even attempting concealment.
Nan Rongchen felt a childish sense of satisfaction. The system’s punishment had arrived opportunely, allowing him only to utter the words “Nan Rong,” granting him this opportunity to witness another person’s dashed expectations.
Just like himself in his past life, when his grand enterprise neared completion and he returned in triumph, only to be besieged by the entirety of Linyue.
He advanced a few more steps, seated himself by leaning against the imperial throne, and looked down at Nan Rongxian once more, finishing the entire decree, “…Chengyu.”
As for the mission and punishment? He had never agreed to accept this task.
He detested being controlled by others more than anything, nor did he desire that reward for survival.
The system might as well strike him dead directly.
Left and right, he currently desired nothing. Nan Rongxian’s expression of futile delusion wasn’t particularly interesting to watch either.
Even if every single person who had denounced him in his past life were to splatter blood on the spot and have their clans executed right now, he wouldn’t bother sparing them an extra glance, it would simply feel filthy.
Clearly, revenge was nothing more than tormenting oneself. Still, spending a few words to toy with people was barely worthwhile.
As for seizing the opportunity of rebirth to change his destiny, heaven was high and earth was thick; everyone had their own fate. Why bother altering it?
Instantly, System 365 frantically broadcasted [Level 1 Violation]. The officials chorused, “Your Majesty, think twice.” Even Nan Rongchengyu’s mask of propriety and deference seemed to crack at the edges, as he cast aside etiquette to step up onto the imperial dais side-by-side with Nan Rongxian.
It appeared that once again, he was serving as a tool to establish Nan Rongchengyu’s devoted to the monarch persona, utterly disappointing.
There was no reason to endure this now. Through his sleeve, he lightly gripped Nan Rongxian’s wrist, “Furthermore, appoint King Su as Regent to jointly manage state affairs.”
If Nan Rongchengyu, the protagonist, wanted the throne, he would have to tear into a mad dog first.
Simultaneously, the system chimed in with a comment cursing him for going too far.
[Level 3 violation comment: Little cat, how can you reward two people at once? Too excessive, I want it too!! (Ah, I tripped.jpg)]