[Duke of Zhenguo's Residence · Study · Three Days Later · 9-11 PM]
Over these three days, Yin Wuwang finally understood what it meant to be "violated by the plot."
Day one: He tried to use soul-searching techniques to extract the truth directly from the Prime Minister's confidant's mind. The moment he gathered his spiritual energy, Little Deer shrieked frantically: "Warning! Forbidden to use cultivation methods against mortal NPCs! Violation will result in massive point deduction and trigger world collapse!"
Day two: He tried to send people to assassinate the bastards who forged the evidence. Before his men even left, Little Deer chimed in again: "Warning! The Duke of Zhenguo is a falsely accused loyal minister! He can only argue his case—assassination is forbidden!"
Day three: He went through proper channels to find the craftsman. The craftsman "happened to" die of sudden illness. The records "happened to" be destroyed in a fire. The witness "happened to" fall into the water and drown.
Every single path was blocked.
It was as if the world itself was conspiring against him. Every loophole he found was sealed before he could exploit it. Every lead he pursued turned into a dead end. The universe had decided he would lose, and it was bending reality to ensure that outcome.
Yin Wuwang sat in his study drowning his frustrations in wine. He finally understood—it wasn't that they couldn't find the evidence. It was that the idiot author who wrote this book had never written any evidence to begin with. The entire plot was a steaming pile of garbage, designed specifically to force him to surrender his military authority.
What kind of hack author writes a frame-up without any actual evidence? He thought bitterly. The same kind who writes a villain with no motivation and a hero with no brain.
Outside the window, rain poured down in sheets.
Just then, a knock came at the door.
"My lord! Someone requests an audience! They say they're a steward from the Regent's residence!"
Moments later, a figure drenched from head to toe walked into the study. Yin Wuwang looked closely—that was no steward. It was Xie Qingyan himself.
Water dripped from his robes, pooling on the floor. His hair was plastered to his face, and his usually immaculate appearance was thoroughly disheveled. Yet somehow, even soaking wet, he still carried that cold, untouchable elegance.
He came through this storm personally, Yin Wuwang thought. For me.
"Why did you come in person?"
Xie Qingyan removed his bamboo hat. "Some things cannot be entrusted to others."
Yin Wuwang dismissed the servants and lowered his voice: "You found something too? Where's the evidence?"
"I found it. The letter paper and seal both have problems." Xie Qingyan accepted a cup of hot tea, wrapping his cold hands around the warmth. "But it's useless. I sent someone to submit the evidence—they were robbed by bandits halfway there. I sent someone to find the craftsman—he died of sudden illness. I found a witness—that person drowned the same night."
Yin Wuwang's expression darkened. "The rules of this broken world are interfering."
"It's not just the rules." Xie Qingyan looked at him. "It's the original outline being forcibly executed. The author who wrote this world into ruin never set up evidence in the first place. No matter how we investigate, we can't find anything—because it never existed."
Yin Wuwang was silent for a moment, then let out a cold laugh. "Wonderful. I, the mighty Demon Sovereign, trapped by a discarded draft."
He stood and paced around the study, his gaze gradually sharpening.
"Fu—Xie Lan." He suddenly spoke. "Back in the demon realm, I encountered similar dead ends."
Xie Qingyan raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
"If you can't win head-on, don't fight." Yin Wuwang turned around. "Go around it."
"How?"
"What does that broken artifact spirit want?" Yin Wuwang enunciated each word. "What it wants is the result of 'the Regent dies.'"
A gleam flashed in Xie Qingyan's eyes. "You mean..."
"Give it a false result." The corner of Yin Wuwang's mouth curved up. "Make it think the Regent is dead when he isn't. I've played this kind of game in the demon realm at least a hundred times."
"Feigned death." Xie Qingyan picked up the thread.
"Exactly." Yin Wuwang nodded. "The artifact spirit follows rigid commands—it only recognizes results. If you have no pulse and no breath, it will determine that you're dead."
Xie Qingyan considered this for a moment. "But that's not enough. The artifact spirit and the world's will are not the same thing."
Yin Wuwang started. "What do you mean?"
"The artifact spirit is the command left behind by that hack author—it only recognizes results. But the world's will is different—" Xie Qingyan stood and walked to the window. "It's this story's instinct to become complete."
"Instinct?"
"What was the original logic? The Regent gets killed without reason, the villain wins inexplicably, and the entire story collapses into nonsense." Xie Qingyan turned around. "What's our logic? The Regent gets killed, then resurrects, exposes the conspiracy, and the villain faces justice."
He looked at Yin Wuwang. "Which one will the world's will choose?"
Yin Wuwang's eyes lit up. "Convince the world's will with a better plot..."
The pieces clicked into place in his mind. It was elegant. It was devious. It was exactly the kind of solution that Fuguang would come up with—not fighting the system directly, but finding a way to make the system want what they wanted.
He silently marveled in his heart.
I only thought about how to fool the artifact spirit. Fuguang has already seen a deeper layer—the world's will. This ability to dissect rules down to their essence... I couldn't do it this clearly even if I tried.
All these years, the only person in this world who could make me genuinely admire their strategy is him.
No wonder I fell for him. Even when we were enemies, this mind of his was irresistible.
"Brilliant." He said sincerely.
Xie Qingyan glanced at him, as if not expecting such direct acknowledgment. A flash of surprise crossed his eyes.
Yin Wuwang paced a few more steps, then suddenly stopped. "But feigned death alone isn't enough."
"Mm?"
"The Regent dies—killed by whom?" Yin Wuwang narrowed his eyes. "If I killed you, I become the target of everyone's hatred. Even if you resurrect afterward, my reputation will be ruined."
Xie Qingyan nodded. "You have an idea?"
"Kill two birds with one stone." The corner of Yin Wuwang's mouth curved. "I 'kill' you, but the Prime Minister takes the blame."
"How?"
"You host a banquet and invite both me and the Prime Minister." Yin Wuwang stood with his hands behind his back, his tone like he was arranging an assassination in the demon realm. "In front of everyone, I clash with you and draw my blade to kill you."
He paused. "But before the assassination, I'll have people secretly spread rumors—saying the Prime Minister bribed one of my guards to use me as a borrowed knife for murder."
A gleam flashed in Xie Qingyan's eyes. "So after the assassination happens, everyone will suspect it's the Prime Minister's conspiracy."
"Exactly." Yin Wuwang nodded. "I'm just the knife that was used. The Prime Minister is the mastermind behind it all. When you resurrect and expose the truth, the Prime Minister is finished."
Xie Qingyan looked at him, the corner of his mouth curving slightly. "You're quite skilled at framing people."
"Naturally." Yin Wuwang lifted his chin. "Back in the demon realm, I—"
"Enough," Xie Qingyan cut him off, but there was a hint of amusement in his tone. "I know you were very impressive in the demon realm."
Yin Wuwang choked. He actually closed his mouth for once.
This person... actually learned how to tease me?
Three thousand years of being enemies, and not once had Fuguang shown any hint of humor. He had been ice and steel, beautiful and untouchable, the kind of perfection that made you want to shatter it just to see what was underneath. But now, in this ridiculous broken world, playing these absurd roles...
He's loosening up. He's actually loosening up around me.
The thought made Yin Wuwang's heart do something complicated.
"Location." Xie Qingyan sat back down, apparently unaware of the internal crisis he had just caused. "Where should the banquet be held?"
"Your residence." Yin Wuwang thought for a moment. "The Regent's residence."
"Why?"
"Two reasons." Yin Wuwang held up his fingers. "First, it's your territory. It's easier to position shadow guards and control the details of the feigned death."
"Second?"
"Second," the corner of Yin Wuwang's mouth curved into a cold smile, "when the assassination happens on your territory, with the Prime Minister as an honored guest—whether it was him hiring an assassin or me acting impulsively becomes impossible to determine."
Xie Qingyan was silent for a moment, then nodded. "Makes sense."
Yin Wuwang looked at him.
Fuguang never acknowledges others easily. Hearing "makes sense" from his mouth is worth more than a thousand words of praise from anyone else.
And he said it about my plan. My plan.
"There's one more problem." Xie Qingyan looked at him. "The feigned death drug."
"What feigned death drug?"
"A drug that eliminates pulse and breath but doesn't actually kill." Xie Qingyan frowned. "This world is a political intrigue story. Such a thing might not exist here."
Yin Wuwang thought about it. "What about the system shop?"
"We can try." Xie Qingyan nodded. "I'll check tomorrow."
He stood and walked toward the door. Halfway there, he suddenly stopped.
"Yin Wuwang."
"Mm?"
Xie Qingyan didn't turn around. His voice was mild: "This plan... isn't bad."
Yin Wuwang was stunned for a moment.
Isn't bad.
Coming from Fuguang, "isn't bad" was probably equivalent to "brilliant" from anyone else. When had this man ever praised anyone? With the Sword Deity's standards, the people who could catch his eye could be counted on one hand.
"Naturally." He tried to make his tone sound casual. "I am, after all—"
"The Demon Sovereign, I know." Xie Qingyan pushed open the door and walked into the rain.
Yin Wuwang stood at the doorway, watching that figure disappear into the curtain of rain.
Three days from now... Fuguang will "die" once in front of me.
I know it's fake. But just imagining that scene makes my heart feel like it's being squeezed.
He had watched Fuguang from afar for three thousand years. He had seen him fight, seen him meditate, seen him stand alone against armies. But he had never seen him die. The thought of it—even a fake death—made something cold and terrible coil in his chest.
What if something goes wrong? What if the drug doesn't work properly? What if the artifact spirit isn't fooled?
What if I have to watch him die for real?
He drew a deep breath and turned back to the study, pushing the dark thoughts aside. This was no time for doubt. They had a plan. They would execute it flawlessly. Fuguang would "die" and then he would wake up, and together they would destroy the Prime Minister.
That was the only acceptable outcome.
Tonight's conversation reminded him of the great war between the righteous and demonic factions from years past. Back then they were enemies, every move deadly—yet there had always been a strange synchronicity. As if he could guess the other's next move without even looking.
Now, fighting side by side, that synchronicity was even more apparent.
I say "go around it"—he immediately thinks of "feigned death." I say "fool the artifact spirit"—he extends it to "world's will." I design the "frame-up"—he adds the "location"...
The only person in this world who can pick up my threads like this is him.
On the desk lay the rough draft of the seating chart Xie Qingyan had left behind. Yin Wuwang picked up a brush and began sketching on it—where to position the shadow guards, where to place the witnesses, where to plant the "mole" who would leak information...
His brush moved with practiced ease. This kind of plotting came naturally to him. How many times had he set up similar traps in the demon realm? How many enemies had fallen into his carefully constructed webs?
But this time was different. This time, the person at the center of the trap was Fuguang. And the thought of anything going wrong made his hand tremble slightly.
Focus, he told himself. Fuguang is trusting you with this. Don't let him down.
Three days from now would be the moment to rewrite the ending.
I will show that broken artifact spirit what happens when the Demon Sovereign and the Sword Deity join forces.
And I will make absolutely sure Fuguang comes out of this alive. No matter what it costs.
[End of Chapter 22]
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500,000 points for a single pill. Worth every one.
Because for Fuguang to wake up alive, Yin Wuwang would pay any price.
Chapter 23: Spending 500,000 Points on Pills—A Massive Loss, But I'm Happy to Pay