[Duke of Zhenguo's Residence · Inner Chamber · 5-7 PM]
"This Duke has been wrongfully accused!"
Yin Wuwang stared at his reflection in the bronze mirror and frowned.
No. Too fake. This sounds like I'm pleading for justice, not about to flip a table.
He cleared his throat and tried again: "Regent, you've gone too far!"
Still wrong. The tone was too flat—it lacked that desperate ferocity of a man pushed to the edge.
He tried a third time, adding more volume: "YOU TOOK MY MILITARY TALLY!"
Better on the anger, but now he just sounded like a street vendor hawking vegetables.
I've killed more people in my lifetime than all the NPCs in this world combined. How can I not pull off a "wrongfully accused loyal minister"?
He stared at his own face in the bronze mirror and suddenly realized the problem—
His eyes were wrong.
His gaze was too cold. It was the coldness of looking down at ants, not the fury of someone suffering injustice. Three thousand years as Demon Sovereign had carved that look into his bones. Even when he tried to look angry, it came across as "about to massacre everyone in the room" rather than "grievously wronged."
Yin Wuwang took a deep breath and tried to recall if he had ever been wrongfully accused in his life.
...He really hadn't.
He was the Demon Sovereign. He killed whoever he wanted. Who would dare accuse him of anything?
Well, there was that one time when a demon general from Nine Abyss Mountain said he "had feelings for the Sword Deity." He had split that demon in half with a single sword stroke.
That wasn't a false accusation. That was hitting the mark.
What a pain.
Little Deer Assistant 9527's voice chimed in: "Reminder: Today's action plan is as follows—storm the banquet, flip the table in public, assassinate the Regent."
Yin Wuwang ignored it.
Those words—"assassinate the Regent"—made his chest feel stuffed with cotton.
Even though it was fake. Even though Fuguang would be fine. Even though that blade wouldn't truly harm him at all. Even though he had spent 50,000 extra spirit stones on a pain suppression talisman.
But having to drive a blade into Fuguang's chest with his own hands—even if it was just acting, the thought of that scene made him deeply uncomfortable.
All these years, he had seen Fuguang wounded countless times. He had seen him surrounded, seen him fighting alone against armies, his white robes stained with blood. Every single time, he had wanted nothing more than to charge in and tear apart everyone who had hurt Fuguang.
He had spent three thousand years watching from the shadows, watching Fuguang bleed and suffer, powerless to help because they were enemies. Three thousand years of clenching his fists until his nails drew blood, of swallowing his rage because revealing himself would only make things worse.
And now he had to do it himself?
What kind of garbage is this script?
He mentally added this grievance to the original author's tab. The list was getting long.
Forget it. Practice the expression first.
He faced the bronze mirror again: "Xie Lan! You took my military tally, destroyed my reputation—"
This was better. He emphasized the word "took" through gritted teeth.
"—Today, this Duke demands justice!"
Mm. Not bad.
Yin Wuwang nodded with satisfaction, then immediately felt like an idiot talking to himself in front of a mirror.
If Fuguang saw me like this, he'd probably laugh at me.
No, Fuguang wouldn't laugh. He'd look over with those mild eyes of his and say "not bad."
And then I'd be happy like an idiot.
...Yin Wuwang, you useless fool.
He cursed himself, dropped the expression, and walked out of the inner chamber.
His trusted general Zhao Meng was already waiting in the courtyard.
"General." Zhao Meng clasped his fist in salute and lowered his voice. "The two thousand troops have been mobilized and are standing by thirty li outside the city."
Yin Wuwang nodded. "Good."
"Also," Zhao Meng paused, "as per your orders, I've had men watching the Prime Minister's residence and Prince Huai's residence for any movement."
"Anything unusual?"
"The Prime Minister's residence has been exceptionally quiet today, as if they're waiting for something. Prince Huai's residence..." Zhao Meng frowned. "Prince Huai went out today."
"Oh?"
"He said he's going to the Regent's residence for the banquet. He brought a renowned physician with him."
Yin Wuwang's eyes flickered.
Prince Huai bringing a physician to a banquet—ostensibly because "his health is poor and he needs medical support on hand." In reality...
That old fox wants to personally verify the corpse.
Cautious indeed. But no matter—the feigned death pill on Fuguang's end would hold up.
"Just take the men and wait outside the city." His voice was cold. "The rest is not your concern."
Zhao Meng hesitated: "General, I'm still worried... The Regent hosting a banquet to apologize—this is clearly a trap. You just had your military tally taken away a few days ago; you're the target of everyone's suspicion. If the Regent takes this opportunity to strike—"
Yin Wuwang looked at him and suddenly found it a bit amusing.
This fool is actually worried about me.
"How many years have you followed this Duke?"
Zhao Meng was startled. "Reporting to the General—thirteen years."
"In thirteen years, has this Duke ever miscalculated?"
Zhao Meng thought about it and shook his head. "Never."
"Then shut up and follow orders."
Zhao Meng wanted to say more, but seeing Yin Wuwang's expression, he swallowed his words.
"Yes! This subordinate obeys!"
He turned and withdrew.
Yin Wuwang watched Zhao Meng's retreating figure and felt a sudden wave of emotion.
The NPCs in this world aren't all idiots. At least this Zhao Meng—his loyalty is genuine.
Too bad. Once this instance ends, these people will all disappear. Like a page turning, ink fading away, nothing left behind.
Fuguang was right. This world is like a dream.
But the people in the dream don't know they're dreaming.
He pushed aside the stray thoughts, turned back to his room, and changed into the armor he had prepared.
Today's script was: The Duke of Zhenguo storms the banquet in a fury, flips the table in public, and assassinates the Regent.
[Meanwhile · Regent's Residence]
Xie Qingyan stood in his study, adjusting his attire in front of a bronze mirror.
Today he wore a dark robe, plain yet dignified. At his waist hung a white jade pendant—the symbol of the Regent's status. In a few hours, these robes would be soaked in blood—real blood, from a real wound. The pain talisman would ensure he felt nothing, but the blade would cut true.
He had faced death many times in his three thousand years of cultivation. Real death, not staged performances. He had been poisoned, ambushed, surrounded by armies that should have killed him. Each time, he had survived through skill and will and a refusal to fall.
This was different. This time, he was choosing to "die." Putting his fate in someone else's hands.
In Yin Wuwang's hands.
Strange, how that thought didn't trouble him as much as it should.
"Your Highness, all preparations for the banquet are complete." The shadow guard commander reported from outside the door.
"Mm." Xie Qingyan responded mildly. "Report each item."
"Yes." The shadow guard commander spoke in a low voice. "The blade will pierce true—a shallow wound to the chest, enough to draw blood but missing vital organs. The pain suppression talisman will ensure Your Highness feels nothing. It will look exactly like a fatal strike."
"The secret passage?"
"Already cleared. Tonight, after the Duke of Zhenguo strikes, this subordinate will immediately seal off the scene under the pretext of protecting Your Highness's remains and transfer the body to the hidden chamber."
"What about the Prime Minister and Prince Huai?"
"Both have confirmed their attendance." The shadow guard commander paused. "However... Prince Huai has brought a renowned physician, claiming his own health is poor and he needs medical support on hand."
Xie Qingyan's brow furrowed slightly.
Prince Huai was indeed suspicious. He had even brought his own person to examine the corpse.
This man was always cautious and wouldn't be easily fooled. If the physician examined the body and noticed something wrong...
He pondered for a moment: "Let him examine. The feigned death pill's effects will hold. If it comes to it—"
He paused, his voice turning cold: "Eliminate the physician."
"Yes."
The shadow guard commander withdrew.
Xie Qingyan stood alone in the study, gazing at the sky outside the window.
It was past 4 PM. The sun was sinking westward, casting a wash of gold and crimson across the window paper.
In two hours, the banquet would begin.
In three hours, he would "die."
What is Yin Wuwang doing right now?
He suddenly remembered that man saying he was going to practice his "wrongfully accused loyal minister" expression, and the corner of his mouth curved slightly.
Knowing his personality, he probably spent all morning practicing in front of a mirror and then got furious at himself.
The image was almost comical—the Demon Sovereign who had terrorized the Three Realms, standing before a mirror, trying to look pitiful. Yin Wuwang's face wasn't built for expressions like "wronged" or "aggrieved." It was built for "I will destroy everything you love" and "kneel or die."
Well, whatever. He's reliable when it matters. I don't need to worry.
And he didn't worry. That was the strange part. Xie Qingyan had spent his entire existence relying only on himself, trusting no one to watch his back. Yet here he was, about to let Yin Wuwang stab him in the chest and trusting that the blade would land exactly where it needed to.
Half an inch from the heart. Not more, not less.
He gathered his thoughts and walked out of the study.
[5 PM · First Quarter Hour]
The Regent's residence was decorated with lanterns and colored banners.
Civil and military officials arrived one after another, their carriages forming a long line at the gates.
"Have you heard? The Regent is hosting this banquet to apologize to the Duke of Zhenguo."
"Apologize? The Regent would apologize? You must be joking."
"It's absolutely true! The other day in court, the Regent seconded the motion to take the Duke's military tally. The Duke was so angry he nearly drew his blade. Today's banquet—the Regent says he wants to bury the hatchet."
"Tsk tsk tsk... Aren't those two mortal enemies? Bury the hatchet? I'd say this is more like a Hongmen Banquet."
The murmurs rose and fell.
Prime Minister Zhou Yanling's sedan chair stopped at the gates.
He lifted the curtain and surveyed the decorated Regent's residence, a cold smile curling at the corner of his mouth.
That little brat Xie Lan finally couldn't hold out? Apologizing to the Duke of Zhenguo? Hah.
He stepped down from the sedan and strode toward the gates, hands clasped behind his back.
Two fierce tigers fighting each other, and I reap the benefits. Let's see who bites whom to death first in tonight's show.
Not far away, Prince Huai's wheelchair was pushed forward.
He was wrapped in thick furs, his complexion pale—the very picture of a man on death's door.
Tonight's performance—I shall see what medicine Xie Lan is really selling.
He swept a glance at the Prime Minister and inclined his head slightly.
The Prime Minister nodded back in acknowledgment.
Two old foxes, each harboring their own schemes, walked side by side through the gates of the Regent's residence.
They both thought they were the hunters.
Little did they know—the prey had long since set the trap.
[Duke of Zhenguo's Residence]
Yin Wuwang stood at the gates of his residence, adjusting his armor.
The last rays of twilight fell upon him, coating him in a layer of gold and crimson. The armor was purely ceremonial—in this mortal body, he couldn't use his cultivation anyway. But it looked impressive, and looking impressive was half of selling the performance.
He drew a deep breath.
Tonight—he would "kill" Fuguang with his own hands.
Even though it was fake. Even though Fuguang would be fine. But thinking of that scene, his chest still felt tight. He had rehearsed the motion a hundred times in his mind: the angle of the blade, the force of the thrust, the exact half-inch margin that would look lethal without being lethal.
Half an inch. I can do half an inch in my sleep.
But it's Fuguang.
What if my hand shakes?
He clenched his fist, then relaxed it. No. He wouldn't shake. He had steadier hands than anyone in the Three Realms. He had killed with precision for three thousand years. He could do this.
Fuguang... you'd better be alright.
If anything goes wrong, I'll turn this entire world upside down and snatch you back from the King of Hell himself.
And then I'll tear that broken artifact spirit apart piece by piece.
He mounted his horse.
Hoofbeats pounded urgently. Dust flew into the air.
The Duke of Zhenguo, Yin Lie, rode toward the Regent's residence in a towering fury.
The lights of the Regent's residence were already blazing, waiting for him.
The trap was set.
The hunters had arrived.
Now it was time for the prey to spring their surprise.
[End of Chapter 24]
Next Chapter Preview:
The stage is set. The players assembled. The Prime Minister and Prince Huai take their seats, each waiting to watch the show.
But in a game of hunters and prey, who is truly holding the knife?
Chapter 25: The Regent Hosts an Apology Banquet—Every Official in Court Comes to Watch the Show