[Prime Minister's Residence · Study · 3-5 AM]
Zhou Yanling had not slept all night.
He sat in his study, listening to his trusted aide's report, his fingers unconsciously tracing the rim of his teacup. The tea had long gone cold, but he didn't notice.
"My lord, at the Ministry of Justice... there was an incident." The aide kept his head lowered, his voice trembling. "Of the three scholars, we only managed to kill two. The third was saved by the Duke of Zhenguo."
"What?" Zhou Yanling shot to his feet. His teacup crashed to the floor and shattered into pieces. "The Duke of Zhenguo? How did he come to be at the Ministry of Justice?"
"This subordinate doesn't know..."
Zhou Yanling drew a deep breath, but couldn't suppress the anxiety churning in his chest.
How had the Duke of Zhenguo suddenly appeared at the Ministry of Justice? Who tipped him off? Was the Regent behind this?
He suddenly realized that his control over this game of chess was slipping away, bit by bit.
Like sand clutched in his palm—no matter how tightly he gripped, it kept flowing through his fingers.
"Keep watching." His voice was heavy, carrying a trace of panic he himself hadn't noticed. "Find out everything about the Duke of Zhenguo's movements."
The aide acknowledged the order and withdrew.
Zhou Yanling sat alone in his study, staring at the shattered porcelain on the floor, motionless for a long time.
The broken pieces caught the dim candlelight, glittering like scattered stars—or perhaps like his carefully built ambitions crumbling to dust.
He had always considered himself a pillar of the literati faction, having cultivated his position at court for forty years. His former students and proteges were spread throughout the realm. Generations of scholars owed their positions to his patronage. He had built a network so vast, so entrenched, that he had thought himself untouchable.
He had thought victory was assured—yet somehow, he had been cornered by a younger man.
The most terrifying part was that he didn't even know how he was losing.
[Imperial Palace · Taiji Hall · 5-7 AM]
"Your Majesty, this minister has an urgent matter to report!"
Xie Qingyan's voice rang through Taiji Hall. Every official turned to look.
The young Emperor nodded hastily: "Imperial Uncle, please speak."
"Last night at the midnight hour, intruders broke into the Ministry of Justice prison. Two of the detained scholars were murdered." Xie Qingyan's voice was ice-cold. "This minister requests imperial authorization to thoroughly investigate this case and root out whoever is behind it."
The moment these words left his mouth, the court erupted into chaos.
The young Emperor was startled, but unlike before, he didn't panic. He looked at the Regent beside him, and in his eyes, beyond the usual dependence, there was now a glimmer of admiration.
So Imperial Uncle doesn't need to kill anyone to make these villains submit.
It was a child's thought, simple and direct. But it marked a shift—a young emperor beginning to understand that power could be wielded with words as effectively as with swords.
"K-killing to silence witnesses?" The young Emperor made an effort to sound authoritative. "Who did this? How audacious!"
"That is precisely what this minister intends to investigate." Xie Qingyan bowed.
Zhou Yanling's face had turned ghastly. He could feel the gazes of the officials around him—some fearful, some suspicious, and others... openly gloating.
Those who usually treated him with utmost deference were now waiting to watch him fall. Fair-weather allies, every one of them. The moment they smelled blood in the water, they would turn on him without hesitation.
Don't panic. He warned himself. Whatever happens, don't panic.
"What does the Regent mean by this?" He forced down the tremor in his voice and stepped forward. "Is the Regent perhaps... suspecting this old minister?"
"When did this King say he suspected the Prime Minister?" Xie Qingyan replied mildly. "This King was merely stating facts. Why is the Prime Minister so eager to take it personally?"
Zhou Yanling's face stiffened. For a moment, he couldn't find words to retort.
He suddenly realized he had no counter-argument.
The sensation made his blood run cold. In forty years of court politics, he had never felt so powerless—so utterly led by the nose.
Yin Wuwang stood among the military officials, watching Zhou Yanling struggle to maintain his composure. The corner of his mouth curved upward slightly.
Heh. The old fox's nose is sharp enough—he knows the attack is aimed at him.
Too bad. Against absolute power, that little bit of cunning is nothing but a clown's act.
In the cultivation world, Zhou Yanling wouldn't survive a single day. His scheming, his networks, his forty years of careful political maneuvering—all of it would mean nothing against a cultivator who could level cities with a wave of their hand. Here in this mortal world, he thought himself a apex predator. He had no idea he was sharing a stage with two beings who had fought wars that reshaped the heavens.
Yin Wuwang sneered internally. If not for this broken system's restrictions, he could crush the old fox with a single finger. Instead, he had to watch Fuguang slowly wear him down with words. How frustrating.
Little Deer Assistant 9527's voice crackled in his mind: "Suggestion: Directly accuse the Prime Minister of being the mastermind. No need for more evidence. Quick conviction."
Quick conviction? Yin Wuwang snorted internally. Accuse without solid evidence and get bitten back? This broken system's suggestions are stupider than the last.
He ignored the Little Deer and continued watching coldly.
"Your Majesty," Xie Qingyan turned to the young Emperor, "this minister requests authorization to establish a special investigation team to thoroughly examine this case. Anyone connected to the matter, regardless of rank or position, shall be subject to strict investigation."
The young Emperor straightened his small spine, trying his best to look like a real emperor: "Granted! We want to know who was bold enough to commit murder in the Ministry of Justice!"
This was the first time he hadn't stuttered "Gr-granted."
The boy was learning. Slowly, haltingly, but learning. Every interaction with the Regent seemed to give him a little more confidence, a little more backbone. Perhaps, given time, he might actually grow into a decent ruler.
Not that it matters to us, Xie Qingyan thought. We'll be gone long before he comes of age.
Still, it was satisfying to see. The original novel had portrayed this child emperor as nothing more than a puppet—a plot device with no agency of his own. Watching him begin to find his voice felt like patching another hole in the story.
Xie Qingyan inclined his head slightly. A barely perceptible glint of approval passed through his eyes.
Zhou Yanling's face was ashen, but he couldn't object. If he opposed the investigation, wouldn't that be as good as confessing?
"This minister... obeys the decree." He could only grit his teeth and accept.
Court adjourned. Officials filed out one by one.
Zhou Yanling walked at the very back, feeling countless gazes stabbing into his back like needles. Those gazes held fear, calculation, suspicion—but none of the respect he had once commanded.
He suddenly realized: his authority was crumbling.
As he reached the palace gates, he sensed a gaze fixed on him.
He turned and saw the Duke of Zhenguo, Yin Wuwang.
Yin Wuwang stood before the palace gates, arms crossed, a playful smile at the corner of his mouth. His eyes were lazy, languid—like he was watching a grasshopper hop about.
The morning sun cast long shadows across the courtyard. Officials hurried past, pretending not to notice the confrontation brewing between the Duke and the Prime Minister. No one wanted to be caught in the crossfire.
Zhou Yanling's heart lurched. Why was this military brute looking at him like he was already a dead man?
"Does the Duke have something to say?" He asked with a smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"Nothing much." Yin Wuwang withdrew his gaze, his tone casual. "Just wanted to remind the Prime Minister of something—trying to stop a chariot with your arms isn't a very good habit."
With that, he turned and strode away, leaving Zhou Yanling standing there, his face alternating between pale and green.
Trying to stop a chariot with your arms?
What does this brute mean?
The phrase echoed in his mind. It was a common idiom—warning against futilely opposing an unstoppable force. But the way the Duke had said it, with that predator's smile...
A fear unlike anything he had ever known welled up in his heart.
[Regent's Residence · Study · Noon]
"The Prime Minister's face today was quite the sight."
Yin Wuwang sprawled carelessly in the seat across from Xie Qingyan, his tone laced with schadenfreude. "When that old thing walked out of Taiji Hall at the end, his legs were shaking."
Xie Qingyan glanced at him mildly: "What did you say to him at the palace gates?"
"Nothing much." Yin Wuwang shrugged. "Just reminded him about stopping chariots with his arms."
"..." Xie Qingyan's brow furrowed slightly. "You'll alert the snake by disturbing the grass."
"That's exactly what I want." Yin Wuwang's smile turned cold. "Let him know someone's watching him. Let him lose sleep, lose his appetite, spend every moment looking over his shoulder—this kind of ant deserves to know what it feels like to be stalked by a predator."
There was something almost leisurely in his cruelty. This wasn't rage or vengeance—it was a predator toying with its prey before the kill. The Prime Minister had threatened Fuguang. That was an offense that demanded not just punishment, but suffering.
Xie Qingyan looked at him in silence for a moment.
He suddenly remembered: the man before him was the Demon Sovereign who had dominated the Three Realms, who had killed countless souls, who viewed all living beings as nothing more than ants. In his eyes, Zhou Yanling and his ilk were probably no different from actual insects.
And yet... this same man had spent the night guarding his door. Had looked at him with genuine concern when they discussed assassination attempts. Had said "thank you" as if the words cost him nothing, when Xie Qingyan knew how rarely the Demon Sovereign expressed gratitude.
He's more complicated than I gave him credit for.
"Rein it in a bit." His tone was mild. "The mission isn't complete yet."
"I know, I know." Yin Wuwang waved a hand, then seemed to remember something. "By the way, my people report that the Prime Minister sent someone to investigate the relationship between you and me today."
Xie Qingyan's brush paused slightly.
"He's starting to suspect us." Yin Wuwang lowered his voice. "We'll need to be more careful from now on."
Xie Qingyan was silent for a moment: "Let him suspect. Without evidence, he can't make any waves."
"True." Yin Wuwang nodded. "What can a bunch of mortals possibly find out?"
In truth, maintaining their cover wasn't difficult. Mortal investigation methods were laughably primitive compared to the divination techniques and soul-reading abilities available in the cultivation world. As long as they didn't do anything overtly supernatural, no amount of human surveillance could expose what they truly were.
The real challenge was maintaining their supposed enmity. Every time they met, every time they coordinated their strategies, they risked someone noticing that the "mortal enemies" seemed awfully cooperative.
He stood and walked toward the door: "I'll head back now. If anything happens, contact me immediately."
"Mm." Xie Qingyan didn't look up. "Be careful."
Yin Wuwang reached the doorway, then suddenly stopped and looked back at him.
"Fuguang."
"Mm?"
"The ants in this broken world are really annoying." He sighed. "Let's finish this mission quickly. I want to go home and sleep."
With that, he pushed open the door and left.
Xie Qingyan sat alone in his study. For just an instant, the corner of his mouth curved upward.
Yin Wuwang... he's surprisingly honest.
"I want to go home and sleep." Such a simple, almost childish complaint. Not "I want to return to my demon palace" or "I want to reclaim my throne." Just... sleep.
Three thousand years of enmity, and Xie Qingyan was only now realizing how little he actually knew about his supposed nemesis. The Demon Sovereign of legend was cruel, calculating, ruthless. The man who had just walked out that door was... something else entirely.
Sunlight streamed through the window, falling across the dossiers on his desk. He lowered his head and continued reviewing documents, but his mind was already calculating the next move.
The Prime Minister had begun investigating their relationship. This was expected.
The question was: what would the Prime Minister's next move be?
He didn't have to wait long for an answer. The next morning, a report arrived from the shadow guards:
"Prime Minister's men spotted near the Imperial Prison. Three cloaked figures. Destination unknown."
Xie Qingyan's eyes narrowed.
The scholars in prison. The ones who knew about the Prime Minister's involvement in the examination scandal.
He's cleaning house.
He immediately reached for his brush to write a warning. Yin Wuwang needed to know—those prisoners' lives were now measured in hours, not days.
[End of Chapter 19]
Next Chapter Preview:
A banquet. A confrontation. And a Demon Sovereign who nearly blows his cover by praising his "wife" in public.
When the Prime Minister probes too close to the truth, maintaining character becomes harder than ever.
Chapter 20: OOC Warning! Publicly Praising Your Wife Is a Violation!