The memories of Prince Zhu Zigui washed through Ren Ye's mind. Not vivid scenes or sensory details, but a stark, internal monologue – a confession of a life wasted.
Standing before the bronze mirror, Ren Ye finally snapped back to reality, a chill running down his spine. I'm the Prince of Huai. That 'Uncle' in the memory must be the Emperor. My 'father' was the previous Prince. And the Emperor… he's been secretly searching for someone marked by Heaven's Pardon?!
Why? What does that paranoid Emperor want with me?
And this Prince Zhu Zigui… he's a complete waste. From his own account, he wasn't even a competent playboy. Just a lecherous idiot. And now, effectively under house arrest…
As Ren Ye grappled with these thoughts, the cold, familiar voice echoed in his skull:
[Initiating Mystic Legacy Quest – Act I: The Spies]
[Setting: The struggle for the Great Qian throne is over. Zhu Zigui, the dissolute heir, has inherited the title Prince of Huai. Currently, he is confined to his princely residence by Imperial decree. The Qian Emperor, cautious and deeply paranoid, has inexplicably spared your life. He has embedded ten spies within Huai Manor, their allegiances split between the Imperial faction and the Opportunists, watching your every move. Their purpose remains unclear.]
[The Ten Spies: Portrayed by ten Players. Currently aligned with either the Imperial faction or the Opportunists.]
[Your Role: Prince of Huai – Leader of the Huai Faction.]
[Role Ability: "Royal Edict": You may attempt to recruit two Players to your Huai Faction. This requires genuine persuasion; they must swear allegiance.]
[Artifact: Imperial Brush: A relic of the Great Qian founding Emperor, gifted to you on his deathbed. Inscribed: "With brush I shape eternity's work, Upon the stage, I paint the land!" Currently dormant, devoid of power. Legend claims the old Emperor used it to write a secret edict, hidden somewhere in this manor by your father.]
[Special Artifact: Sword of State: The Great Qian dynasty's national treasure, long wielded by your father. Upon his death, the sword wailed for three days before its light extinguished. Now, it is merely an ordinary blade. Legend claims it only awakens for one bearing a unique Mandate.]
[Current Objectives:]
Survive 72 Hours.
Restore the Imperial Brush's power. (Hint: Seek the old Emperor's secret edict.)
Protect your identity as "Heaven's Pardon." Discovery could mean death. Bonus: Identify any Spy for significant rewards.
[Special Rule: Players may kill each other and seize artifacts.]
[Critical Warning: The current Emperor is paranoid and ruthless. If he perceives any "unnatural activity" within Huai Manor, everyone will die. Everyone.]
[Countdown to Departure: *71:57:32*]
[Star Gate Benediction: Historically, disgraced Princes meet grisly ends. May you be the exception...]
The voice faded. Ren Ye blinked, a strange thrill mixing with his apprehension. Huang Wei wasn't kidding. The game is on.
He paced the opulent bedchamber, forcing himself to think clearly.
A role-playing quest. Ten other Players. Faction warfare.
Too bad my role is this useless Prince. No power. No allies. No brains.
Worst of all, I have my own faction. Meaning... I start out facing ten potential enemies.
Damn.
This is bad.
Anxiety tightened his chest. Priority one: Reactivate the Imperial Brush. That means finding the secret edict. That's my lifeline.
Priority two: Identify the Spies. But carefully. I have no cards to play. I need to lay low…
He walked several circuits, the plan solidifying. He stopped, surveying the chamber, trying to absorb its details.
Thump-thump-thump!
Hurried footsteps echoed outside. A young maidservant burst into the doorway, prostrating herself, her voice trembling. "Your Highness! Disaster!"
Ren Ye looked at her. Memories surfaced automatically.
Huh. I slept with this one.
Lian'er. Dragged her to bed one stormy night… A flicker of frustration. Why no details? I want the details!
He schooled his features into princely disdain. "What is it?"
"Officials from Qingliang Prefecture, the Grand Secretariat, Qingzhou Garrison, the Spy Corps, the Internal Affairs Bureau… they gather in the Hall of Concentrated Mind! They demand Your Highness adjudicate a case! The Princess Consort is already there. She bids you come!"
"Adjudicate? What case?" Ren Ye feigned ignorance, though a cold dread was forming.
"They claim… Commander Wang of the Personal Guard attempted rebellion! They have proof! They demand judgment!" the maid stammered.
Ren Ye froze. The memory clicked. Commander Wang Jingzhong. One of Father's loyal veterans. One of the few loyal to me.
Last night. We drank. I, Zhu Zigui, wept like a fool, begging him to secretly recruit the Spy Corps Commander for me. To build some hidden strength. To survive. And he… agreed.
He was caught.
Of course he failed. And now they've turned it around, accusing him. The whole manor crawls with Imperial snakes.
Did he name me? A cold sweat broke on Ren Ye's brow.
"How many officials?" he asked, voice tight.
"Over forty, Your Highness."
Forty. Ren Ye's heart sank. This wasn't just an accusation; it was a coordinated ambush. He had to go.
"To the Hall," he commanded, his voice hollow.
Leaving the bedchamber, Ren Ye strode down a broad corridor. Maidservants lining the path instantly prostrated themselves.
"Your Highness!"
"Your Highness!"
Ren Ye glanced sideways as he walked, his internal monologue derailing.
Huh. Slept with her.
Oh, and her too.
Holy shit, that one as well?!
A quick scan confirmed his suspicion. Every young, pretty maid lining this corridor had shared the former Prince's… enthusiasm. Even one woman clearly in her mid-thirties hadn't escaped his dubious attentions.
The Prince wasn't just useless. He was a legendary rake. An imperial dagger at his throat, and he was still chasing skirts? What an idiot! Fifteen minutes later, surrounded by eunuchs and servants, Ren Ye arrived via palanquin at the Hall of Concentrated Mind – the seat of Huai princely authority. Blue-tiled roofs, crimson walls, imposing. A thirty-meter-long Nine Dragon Screen stood to the left of the main entrance, its reflection shimmering in a pool, making the beasts seem alive.
In the Great Qian, a Prince's fiefdom was a kingdom within a kingdom. The Prince was its sovereign, a virtual second emperor. Zhu Zigui, however, was the exception: a puppet, stripped of power. Any minor official here likely lived better than he did.
Entering through a side door, Ren Ye saw over forty officials standing with their backs to the main entrance, heads bowed. In the center, trussed like a hog, knelt a burly man in his fifties, his hair streaked with grey, his face and clothes marked with fresh wounds.
Commander Wang Jingzhong.
"The Prince of Huai enters the hall!" a eunuch announced shrilly.
"Your Highness!" the officials chorused, bowing deeply.
Ren Ye feigned composure, his expression blank as he scanned the room, heading for the high throne. His gaze snagged on a figure seated on a side dais.
A woman. Perhaps twenty. Stunningly beautiful, yet radiating an icy, detached aura like a lotus untouched by mud. Her eyes, bright and intelligent, held a cool, aristocratic distance. Her figure was alluring beneath the deliberately plain, loose-fitting Daoist robes she wore. A simple wooden pin held her dark hair. She seemed utterly removed from the tension in the hall.
The Princess Consort, Xu Qingzhao.
Huh. Didn't sleep with her? What kind of useless rake is Zhu Zigui? He bagged a thirty-something maid but couldn't manage his own wife?
Memories clarified: Xu Qingzhao was the daughter of the Grand Chancellor. Theirs was a political marriage, devoid of affection, frozen solid since Huai's confinement. Obsessed with Daoist cultivation and aloof from court politics, she was a ghost haunting the manor's gilded halls.
Ren Ye paused only a moment before ascending to the main throne. The Princess Consort sat beside him, her exquisite face impassive, not even acknowledging his presence. She'd spent over half a year at her father's estate in the capital and hadn't sought him out since returning three days prior.
Silence hung heavy in the grand hall. Ren Ye's gaze swept the officials, his face deliberately stern. Civil service tactics. Ancient or modern, the core is the same. When you don't know the game, let the other players move first.
Sure enough, an official stepped forward.
"Your Highness!" he declared after a perfunctory bow. "Commander Wang Jingzhong of the Personal Guard stands accused of treason! Last night, he attempted to suborn Commander Wu Asi of the Spy Corps! Witnesses and evidence are present! We demand immediate interrogation under torture! We must uncover his conspirators and purge this threat to Qingliang Prefecture!"
Ren Ye recognized him: Archivist Liu, from the Grand Secretariat's Office of Admonishment. His job: record the Prince's every word and deed. Since the dynasty's founding, the Grand Secretariat had existed in every princely fiefdom – the Emperor's eyes and ears. They probably recorded the color of the Prince's nightly waste.
Ren Ye, draped in crimson robes, channeled archaic formality. "Archivist Liu. Commander Wang holds high rank. He served my father faithfully from eighteen, campaigning south and north, his merits countless. What reason has he to rebel?"
"Qingliang borders the Southern Barbarians!" Liu retorted, his bow shallow, his eyes sharp and malicious. "He conspired with them! Had we not uncovered this plot, Your Highness's safety would be imperiled! We demand severe interrogation!"
"Your Highness!" Commander Wu Asi stepped forward. "Wang Jingzhong lured me under the pretense of drinking. He tested me, offered bribes, proposed we seize control of Your Highness's inner quarters! This is treason! Interrogate him severely! My maidservant and guards can attest!"
Ren Ye's stomach clenched. He'd hoped to shield Wang Jingzhong. As a puppet prince with no trustworthy allies, the commander was potentially vital. But now… saving him seemed impossible. Worse, Ren Ye himself was in peril.
Notice, he thought coldly. Liu and Wu Asi demand 'severe interrogation', not execution. Why? They want Wang Jingzhong to break. To name names. Right here. Right now. To name me.
If that happens… it won't be about saving face. It'll be about saving my neck.
Ren Ye's mind raced. Then, a slow, deliberate smile touched his lips. He looked towards a tall, imposing man standing silently among the officials, his temples greying, clad in a black robe embroidered with pythons.
Grand Secretary Li Yan. Head of the Grand Secretariat. The Emperor's chief watchdog in Huai Manor. The puppet master behind Liu's attack.
"Grand Secretary Li," Ren Ye's voice was smooth, almost cordial. "A matter of grave importance requires your counsel. Might we confer in the side chamber?"
Li Yan didn't even lift his eyes. "No matter outweighs treason, Your Highness. Interrogate Wang Jingzhong."
Strike one. Ren Ye gritted his teeth internally. He scanned the room again, his gaze finally settling on the Princess Consort's flawlessly cold profile. "Does anyone… have a differing view?"
Xu Qingzhao accepted a teacup from her maid, her expression one of utter boredom. She didn't acknowledge his glance.
Silence. Thick, suffocating silence. Not a single voice rose in support.
Archivist Liu's eyes gleamed with venom as he stepped forward again. "We demand severe interrogation! Uncover Wang Jingzhong's conspirators!"
Thump-thump-thump…!
Forty officials stepped forward as one, their voices a thunderous wave: "WE DEMAND SEVERE INTERROGATION! UNCOVER THE CONSPIRATORS!"
Ren Ye stared at the wall of hostile faces, despair washing over him. Zhu Zigui, you useless, imprisoned songbird! But worse… you're an idiot!
The one loyal commander with any real troops… and you sent him to recruit your enemy's spy chief? And got him caught?!
What kind of colossal moron are you?!
You hand me this impossible mess? What the hell am I supposed to do?!
As the officials' demand echoed, the Princess Consort took a delicate sip of tea. Her eyes, cool and distant as distant stars, shifted almost imperceptibly towards the bound figure of Wang Jingzhong kneeling on the floor.