The Myth System had grown stranger with every passing day.
Just that morning, while I reviewed the new maps of our hidden cities, a new blue message floated before my eyes.
"Ding! Feature Unlocked—Unlimited Mythic Storage. The Host may store any object, creature, or building without size limit. Organise by energy type for easy access."
I blinked at the glowing words. "Anything?"
"Affirmative. Even the moon, if you can reach it."
I nearly laughed. Store the moon? Fine. Maybe one day.
For now, this 'unlimited storage' meant materials, weapons, and treasures from the twenty cities could be safely hidden. The empire would never guess where all that wealth disappeared.
But my amusement vanished a few hours later when Wen Zixing ran into my tent, breathless.
"Your Highness—bad news. The Emperor—he's suspicious again!"
I raised an eyebrow. "Already? The spies just left satisfied."
He shook his head. "That's the problem. Their report was too clean. The Emperor thinks they were deceived. He's dispatching a new envoy—an imperial prince accompanied by monks from the Sky Sword Sect. They'll arrive in three days."
I rubbed my temples. "So the play begins again."
"Play?" Zixing asked carefully.
I grinned. "If he wants a show, let's give him one. Yue Zhilan and I will act the parts."
Three days later, brilliant banners approached Frostveil City. The soldiers stopped training to stare at lines of royal guards in gold armour, followed by an open carriage carrying a young man dressed in blue and white robes. His brows were sharp, his demeanour noble.
The Second Prince had come himself.
Behind him walked three monks with sword pendants at their belts—the Sky Sword Sect envoys. Their eyes gleamed with the calm arrogance of men who believed they stood just beneath gods.
In truth, they did.
Mo Han greeted them with practised respect. "Welcome to the border, Your Highness. The commander is waiting."
When they entered my tent, I greeted them with deliberate sloppiness—a wine cup in one hand, half my robe undone, and my arm wrapped lazily around Yue Zhilan's shoulders.
She wore plain silk instead of armour, her silver hair hidden beneath a light scarf. With a faint blush (an illusion we'd made for effect), she looked every bit the shy consort of a useless prince.
"Ah, my royal brother!" I said with a mock‑drunken grin. "Come, come! Have a drink! The weather here is terrible for poetry but perfect for wine!"
The Second Prince froze. His face flickered between disgust and confusion. "Ling Chen… Are you drinking in broad daylight? While our soldiers freeze outside?"
I laughed. "Of course! Cold nights need warm company!" I waved my cup at Yue Zhilan, who lowered her eyes modestly.
The Sky Sword monks exchanged glances. One murmured, "This one truly resembles the rumours—a good heart, no discipline."
"Rumours?" I said, pretending not to hear as I stumbled toward my brother. "Ah, the court sends gods now to look at my dirt house? I should feel honoured!"
The prince's lips tightened. "You misunderstand, Fifth Brother. Father merely worried that you might feel lonely overseeing such a backwater."
"Lonely?" I gave a grand laugh. "Not anymore! My dear consort ensures I never suffer from boredom!"
Yue Zhilan nearly broke character then. I saw the faint twitch at the corner of her lips, quickly hidden behind her fan.
The Sky Sword Sect's leading monk coughed. "This lady's aura is… gentle. Yet faintly unfamiliar. From which clan does she hail?"
"Clan of Charm and Wine!" I said loudly, waving again. The soldiers posted outside cracked faint smiles they quickly hid.
"She's no cultivator," I added lazily. "Just a village girl I saved from bandits. Poor thing follows me everywhere now. I can't say no to such loyalty, can I?"
"Indeed," the monk said dryly.
As they questioned the officers during the inspection, Yue Zhilan and I continued our ridiculous act. She poured wine clumsily, pretending to trip over my arm. I exaggerated laughter, threw compliments too loud for decorum, and even stumbled once to make the prince wrinkle his nose in disgust.
Yet behind this foolishness, I was watching them closely—their eyes, their movements, the flair of their spiritual senses. The moment any of them tried to probe beneath the surface, Yue Zhilan's hidden divine energy bent the air just enough to blur their perception.
By evening, they found nothing but what I wanted them to see.
That night, under the red glow of campfires, the prince turned to his escort. "This… can't be the man Father fears."
One of the monks nodded. "We sensed no unusual energy from any soldier. Even the woman hides no danger. They seem almost too simple for war heroes."
The prince sighed. "Then Father's worries were useless again. Perhaps the border's peace truly came from luck."
When they left before dawn, I watched them go from my tent flap, sipping tea instead of wine.
Yue Zhilan appeared behind me, laughing softly. "You play the fool too well."
I smiled, setting down the cup. "It's easier to survive as a fool than as a genius. Especially when the throne is watching."
Wen Zixing entered with the latest intelligence report. "They found nothing suspicious, my lord. The empire believes you've turned into a harmless exile living on wine and beauty."
"Good." I leaned against the post, relaxing. "Then we've bought more time."
"The system agrees," Zixing added, showing the text that hovered faintly near me.
"Ding! Event Completed—'Deceive the Throne'. Reward: Loyalty +5 (Yue Zhilan). New Feature Unlocked—Storage Projection. The host can manifest stored objects instantly within a ten‑mile radius."
Unlimited storage and instant projection. The possibilities were endless.
Yue Zhilan crossed her arms, half‑smiling. "Next time you drag me into a play, at least let me pick the role. Acting as your blushing consort nearly broke my patience."
I chuckled. "You played it perfectly. Even I almost believed I was a shameless prince."
"You are a shameless prince."
"True," I said, laughing as the flames crackled between us.
Outside, the soldiers sang under the stars. The empire's spies and envoys were gone. The hidden army grew stronger every day.
And somewhere far to the south, in his grand hall, the Emperor sat awake again, frowning at the silence from the north and wondering how a supposed fool managed to make the border so utterly impossible to read.