The corners of Xue Qinghe's mouth curled into a subtle smile.
So it begins.
The so-called loyal ministers of Tiandou Empire couldn't hold back any longer. Their fox tails were revealed, swishing brazenly beneath their courtly robes. The ceremony had only just reached its climax, and yet already the game of thrones deepened.
On the far left stood the solemn Minister of Military Affairs, closest confidant of the Snow Night Emperor himself. A man trusted to hold the empire's lifeline—without such favor, he never would have dared intervene here of all places.
At the center, the Prime Minister—a venerable figure, schooled since youth by two dynasties, and once the emperor's teacher. His words carried weight like mountains.
And to the far right, the Minister of Household, master of treasury and national taxes. In truth, this man had single-handedly driven Tiandou to the brink of financial collapse, yet here he stood, mask of righteousness firmly affixed.
Below them, their allies waited: governors of ten provinces, powerful voices of bloodline nobles, and lesser royals with eyes like hawks.
All gazes burned toward Xue Qinghe, testing if this boy-turned-prince could weather their storm.
Meanwhile, seated in their VIP rows, the great sects observed with barely masked interest. Elders of the Martial Spirit Hall lounged as though at a play, while the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile and the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon clans warily measured every move.
This—this struggle, this push and pull of legitimacy—was the true East Palace drama.
Xue Qinghe knew well enough: Emperor Snow Night did not declare him heir out of pure faith. No. It was necessity. His other sons had perished like candles in the wind, leaving only this choice. But declaring a prince and empowering one were vastly different.
The heir could exist in name, but to grant him authority, to hand him the Seal of the East Palace—that meant legitimacy. That meant allowing him to gather allies, form his own faction, compete against the imperial court itself. Such decentralization no emperor accepted easily.
Thus, someone had to play the villain. Someone had to stand up, oppose, delay. It was the emperor's design all along.
And so, the Minister of Military Affairs stepped boldly into the spotlight.
"Your Majesty, this minister bears a matter of grave importance to report!"
High upon the dragon throne, Snow Night Emperor narrowed his eyes, voice slow and powerful. "Speak."
The minister clasped his hands, shoulders brimming with false loyalty.
"Today should be a day of joy for the East Palace. But as protector of Your Majesty's court, I must present troubling voices of concern. For in the silence of the capital, whispers circulate—rumors questioning the Crown Prince's character. As loyal servants, should we not seek to preserve not only the prestige of throne, but the very foundation of our nation?"
The hall shivered. Murmurs darted like snakes in the grass.
Then, suddenly, the Emperor's hand struck the armrest with thunderous force.
"Impudence!" His booming voice rolled through the pillar-lined hall. His fury battered the minister like a gale. "What 'rumors'? Which scoundrel dares whisper against the Great Prince? He has governed prudently these last years, pure-minded, upright. To slander him now, in this sacred hour—drag the liar who began it out! Behead him in the square!"
The emperor's eyes swept across his court, glinting like frost. His words dripped with double edge.
"If any subject possesses true evidence, he has the right to correct the Crown Prince. But if one spreads falsehoods for ambition, if one seeks to tarnish my prince with slander, then this emperor shall not forgive!"
The word loyal minister was spat with venomous irony, a blade that gutted all posturing.
Silence suffocated the hall. Those courtiers who secretly despised Xue Qinghe now hunched their shoulders, unwilling to risk their necks.
What means has the crown prince used, they thought bitterly, to earn such love from His Majesty? Did he fool even the emperor? Or was this tacit collusion?
Only a few who knew the ways of kings grasped the hidden plan. Emperor Snow Night was shielding himself. With a single shout, he turned opposition into treason. He painted detractors as rumor-mongers while preserving his own role as impartial sovereign.
But Xue Qinghe… oh, how neatly she flipped the board.
She bowed gracefully, voice carrying genuine humility. "Your Majesty, as the saying goes—none are perfect, neither subject nor heir. Though this son strives to follow Father's example, to govern with caution and fairness, how could I have no mistakes? Surely I must have offended villains along the way. Why not welcome these complaints? Let the speaker come forward before the court, name my faults directly, one by one. Let all ministers hear, let the people of Tiandou know—and let me prove myself by facing them with open heart."
The words flowed gentle, humble, yet sharp as jade.
In the midst of solemnity, Subei suddenly let out a quiet snort, then bit back laughter.
A few nearby officials scowled darkly beneath their hats. Who dares laugh in this sacred hall? And a child no less, hiding behind a mask!
But Subei couldn't help it. Wonderful… Absolutely wonderful!
First, Xue Qinghe showed himself willing to kneel among the common folk, letting himself be judged openly. Second, he trapped the emperor's hand—if there truly were faults, then it meant the throne itself had erred in raising him. And third, layer by layer, he painted himself as innocent, righteous, willing, a prince of the people.
Such skill in politics at only sixteen. No wonder she's Qian Renxue.
From the throne, Emperor Snow Night's brow twitched. Within his chest, cold pride battled hot unease.
This child… Already such mastery of words. Already such control of hearts. Is this sincerity? Or an imperial heart, born fully formed in a boy's chest?
If true, then comfort: at last, a worthy heir.
If false… then fear: a son too dangerous, a prince who could master both court and country.
Snow Night's instincts screamed that danger wrapped Xue Qinghe. Especially after burying sons one after another…
He thought back: two years ago, the second prince, Xue Luochuan, grew ill at twelve, wasting away mysteriously and dying, the physicians baffled. A year later, the third prince, Xue Haizang, followed the same fate. The whispers of curses, of poison never proved… but who benefited? Who remained?
No one but Xue Qinghe.
The emperor's gaze sharpened, heavy with insight, but he let none of it reach the surface. His mind knew but could not yet prove. And so he grasped at his mask of majesty.
Eyes steely, Emperor Snow Night lowered his voice into the hall.
"In that case… who among you dares step forward? Which man holds evidence against the Crown Prince? Speak!"
The words lashed the court like whips.
And though all trembled, though the silence pressed close—already, one minister straightened his back, ready to play the role he had been chosen for.
The true contest had only just begun.
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