[Day 30 · Imperial Palace · Hall of Supreme Harmony · Dawn]
Three factions faced off, swords drawn, tension at breaking point.
Prince Huai's three thousand private soldiers had the Hall of Supreme Harmony completely surrounded. Yin Wuwang's three hundred personal guards stood back to back in battle formation. The palace guards looked left and right, unsure whose orders to follow.
"Yin Lie, what else do you have to say?" Prince Huai sneered. "Three thousand against three hundred—do you think you have any chance of winning?"
Yin Wuwang stood with his hands behind his back, expression composed: "Why is Your Highness in such a rush? As I said, there are more people outside the city."
"Outside the city?" Prince Huai scoffed. "You think I don't know? Your handful of troops were blocked ten miles away by my men long ago—"
Before he could finish, a commotion erupted outside the hall.
"Report—! The army outside has breached the city gates! They're heading for the palace!"
Prince Huai's expression changed.
Impossible! I clearly sent five thousand men to intercept them—
Before he could think it through, Prime Minister Zhou Yanling had already stepped forward.
"Your Highness Prince Huai." Zhou Yanling's voice was unhurried. "This old minister has something to say, if Your Highness would permit."
Prince Huai frowned: "What is it?"
"The Regent's death has many suspicious aspects." Zhou Yanling stroked his beard. "Since the Duke of Zhenguo dares to storm the palace with troops, he must have something to rely on. In this old minister's humble opinion, perhaps we should first investigate the truth before making any decisions."
This old fox! Prince Huai raged internally. At the critical moment, he wants to slip away?
But he couldn't lash out. Zhou Yanling had cultivated connections in the court for years, with protégés and former subordinates everywhere. If he tore into Zhou Yanling at this juncture, it would only make the situation more chaotic.
"Fine." Prince Huai suppressed his fury. "Then according to the Prime Minister, how should we investigate the truth?"
Zhou Yanling hadn't even opened his mouth when another commotion arose outside the hall.
This time, mixed with the noise were shocked cries—
"The Regent! It's the Regent!"
"The Regent isn't dead!"
Prince Huai's pupils contracted sharply.
The hall doors were pushed open.
Xie Qingyan strode in.
He wore the same purple-gold python robe as always, jade belt at his waist, expression cold and aloof. The bloodstains from his "assassination" three days ago had long been washed away. Now, standing in the morning sunlight, he looked as though he had never been wounded at all.
More than that—he looked like a god descending to the mortal realm. The sunlight caught his silver hair, turned it into a halo. His amber eyes swept the hall with the calm certainty of someone who had already won.
Yin Wuwang's breath caught.
Fuguang...
Even now, even after three thousand years, the sight of him still made his heart stutter.
"Who said this prince was dead?"
His voice wasn't loud, but it carried clearly through the entire hall. Cool. Controlled. Utterly devastating.
The officials burst into an uproar.
Prince Huai's face instantly went pale.
"You two..." Prince Huai's voice trembled. "You two... conspired to deceive me?"
Xie Qingyan walked slowly toward the center of the hall. His gaze swept over Prince Huai, then over Zhou Yanling, and finally landed on the young Emperor trembling on the dragon throne.
"Your Majesty." He bowed. "Your subject has returned."
The young Emperor froze for a moment, then suddenly jumped up from the dragon throne: "Imperial Uncle! Imperial Uncle isn't dead!"
Xie Qingyan's gaze softened for just an instant before returning to its usual coolness: "Your subject has caused Your Majesty alarm."
He turned toward Prince Huai, his voice suddenly cold: "Prince Huai. This prince has a few questions. Who incited the Duke of Zhenguo to assassinate this prince? Who attempted to usurp the throne after this prince's death? Who—colluded with foreign enemies and plotted treason?"
"Utter nonsense!" Prince Huai raged. "What evidence do you have?"
The corner of Xie Qingyan's mouth curved slightly as he listed the evidence piece by piece. Prince Huai's expression darkened completely.
"Fine... fine..." He ground his teeth. "Since we're tearing off the masks, don't blame this prince for being ruthless! Attack! Kill them!"
Chaos erupted.
Prince Huai's private soldiers surged forward. Yin Wuwang's personal guards met them head-on. Blades flashed, blood sprayed. The grand hall that had witnessed centuries of peaceful court sessions now rang with the clash of steel and the cries of wounded men.
Yin Wuwang drew his long saber, positioning himself in front of Xie Qingyan.
Perfect. He smiled coldly to himself. I've been holding back for so long—time to stretch my muscles.
In the cultivation world, he could have ended this in seconds. A single burst of demonic energy, and everyone in this hall would be ash. But here, trapped in a mortal body, he had to do things the hard way. The slow way. The human way.
Still, he thought as he cut down two soldiers with one sweep of his blade, there's something satisfying about this.
His attention never wandered far from Xie Qingyan's position. Even as he fought, even as blood sprayed and steel rang, some part of him was always tracking Fuguang—where he was, what he was doing, whether any threat was getting too close.
Xie Qingyan wasn't idle either. He drew a short sword from his sleeve, every strike lethal, and had already felled three men in the blink of an eye. His movements were elegant, economical, deadly—the same precision that had made him the greatest swordsman in the cultivation world, translated into mortal form.
Beautiful, Yin Wuwang thought, and then wanted to kick himself for getting distracted in the middle of a battle.
In the melee, Prime Minister Zhou Yanling and a few of his confidants tried to quietly retreat toward the hall's exit, only to be blocked by shadow guards.
Seeing the situation turning against him, Prince Huai gritted his teeth: "Summon the ambush troops from outside the city into the palace!"
Yin Wuwang was just thinking about the ambush troops when, from the corner of his eye, he saw a dark shadow plummet from the rafters—
Heading straight for Xie Qingyan's back!
Yin Wuwang's pupils contracted sharply.
Assassin!
Time seemed to slow. He saw the glint of steel, the angle of descent, the exact trajectory that would end in Fuguang's heart. He calculated distances, options, outcomes—and discarded them all.
There was no time to shout a warning. No time to intercept. Only one option.
Without thinking, his body was already lunging forward.
The blade sliced across his arm. Blood sprayed. The pain was white-hot, searing, but he barely felt it—all that mattered was that Fuguang was safe.
At the same instant the searing pain hit him, the word burst from his lips—
"Fu—"
Little Deer Assistant 9527's warning exploded in his mind: "Warning! Warning! Severe OOC! The Duke of Zhenguo and the Regent are mortal enemies! Impossible for one to sacrifice himself to protect the other! World is about to collapse!"
Yin Wuwang felt the ground trembling beneath his feet. Cracks appeared in his vision—the fabric of this constructed reality threatening to tear apart.
Damn it!
He bit through his tongue. The taste of blood spread through his mouth, sharp and metallic. The pain helped him focus, helped him find the words.
"—Regent, watch out!"
The world shuddered once, then stabilized. The cracks sealed. Reality held.
But Yin Wuwang didn't stop. He turned toward the assassin, killing intent flooding his eyes—three thousand years of accumulated menace, compressed into a single glare:
"His life belongs to me. No one except me is allowed to touch him."
9527's voice sounded again: "OOC Assessment: Prey ownership logic established. Character setting correction successful."
Good thing I reacted fast. Using "possessiveness" to replace "protectiveness"—framing it as a predator guarding its prey rather than a lover protecting his beloved. This broken system actually bought it.
Fuguang's life belongs to me. Not a lie. Just... not the whole truth.
He cut down the assassin with one stroke and turned around.
Xie Qingyan was watching him.
He had seen everything clearly.
The assassin had plummeted from the rafters, heading straight for his back. He had heard the sound of movement and was about to dodge—
And Yin Wuwang had already thrown himself forward.
Blocking in front of him. Taking that blade for him.
In three thousand years of battle, no one had ever done that. Not once. He was the Sword Deity—he protected others, not the other way around. People relied on him, depended on him, looked to him for salvation. No one had ever thought he might need protecting.
Until now.
Why?
He could have easily not blocked. With Yin Wuwang's abilities, he could have simply called out a warning, or directly intercepted the assassin. Either option would have been more logical, more efficient, less costly.
But he had chosen to block with his own body.
That wasn't the optimal solution. That was—
Xie Qingyan didn't know how to describe it. Reckless? Foolish? Or something else entirely?
And that unfinished word—
"Fu—"
He had heard it.
What Yin Wuwang had wanted to shout wasn't "Regent."
It was "Fuguang."
His courtesy name. The name that only those closest to him used. The name that the Demon Sovereign had no business knowing, let alone calling out in a moment of crisis.
Would a former mortal enemy call out his courtesy name at the moment of life and death?
Would a former mortal enemy throw his body between you and a blade without hesitation?
Xie Qingyan looked at Yin Wuwang. The wound on that man's arm was still dripping blood, staining half his sleeve crimson. Yet his expression was nonchalant, as if the wound belonged to someone else. As if taking a blade for Xie Qingyan was the most natural thing in the world.
"His life belongs to me. No one except me is allowed to touch him."
What did that sentence mean?
On the surface, it sounded like a predator claiming prey. But the way he had said it... the intensity in those purple eyes...
Yin Wuwang was also looking at him. Those purple eyes held nervousness, probing, and... something else. Something that looked almost like hope. Like fear. Like a question he was terrified to ask and even more terrified to have answered.
Xie Qingyan said nothing. He only glanced at Yin Wuwang, his gaze lingering on that wound for just a moment. The blood was still flowing, bright red against the dark fabric of his sleeve.
That wound is for me, Xie Qingyan thought. He took that blade for me.
The realization settled into his chest, heavy and warm.
Then he withdrew his gaze and turned toward Prince Huai.
Now isn't the time to ask questions.
But this matter—I've noted it.
And when this is over, Yin Wuwang, you will answer for it.
Orderly footsteps sounded from outside the hall.
Xie Qingyan's shadow guards had finally arrived—three thousand of them, surrounding the Hall of Supreme Harmony until not even water could trickle through.
Prince Huai's ambush troops outside the city had been intercepted halfway.
"No... impossible..." Prince Huai stumbled backward, his face ashen. "You two are mortal enemies! How could you possibly join forces—"
His voice cut off abruptly.
Because Xie Qingyan had looked toward Yin Wuwang. And Yin Wuwang had looked toward Xie Qingyan.
In that moment, something passed between them that no one else could read. A silent communication, honed through three thousand years of opposition. They had spent so long fighting each other that they knew each other's minds better than anyone. And now, for the first time, that knowledge served a common purpose.
We did it, Yin Wuwang thought. We actually did it.
Together.
Their gazes met in the air.
The corner of Yin Wuwang's mouth curved slightly. A small smile, barely there, but unmistakable.
Xie Qingyan's face remained expressionless, but something flickered deep in his eyes.
Yin Wuwang, you... how much more are you hiding?
All this time, he had assumed he understood their dynamic. Enemies forced into alliance. Partners of convenience. Two apex predators who had found it more profitable to cooperate than to fight.
But that blade to the arm told a different story. That half-spoken name told a different story. That desperate lunge, body before mind, instinct overriding logic—
That was not the behavior of a convenient ally.
What are you really feeling, Yin Wuwang?
And why do I find myself wanting to know?
He pushed those questions aside. There would be time for answers later. Right now, they had a traitor to deal with.
Prince Huai, your good days are over.
[End of Chapter 33]
Next Chapter Preview:
Prince Huai demands answers. "That blade—you took it for him! You think I didn't see?!"
The entire hall falls silent, waiting for Yin Wuwang's response.
And what he says is: "I felt like it. What's it to you?"
Chapter 34: "I Felt Like It—What's It to You?"