Morning light slipped quietly into the imperial chamber.
Not all at once.
Not in harsh beams.
It filtered through layers of pale golden curtains little by little, spreading over the room like warm water flowing over smooth stone. Sunlight washed across carved dragon pillars, over polished jade furnishings, over silk screens painted with distant mountains hidden among clouds.
Dust motes drifted lazily through the air.
The room still carried traces of sandalwood incense burned during the night. Beneath that lingered the faint fragrance of spirit herbs smoldering inside bronze burners near the bed.
Outside the chamber, birds called among the imperial gardens.
A breeze wandered through half-open windows.
It carried the scent of damp leaves and morning dew.
Farther away, water trickled softly from jade fountains.
Quiet.
Peaceful.
Actually peaceful.
Buried beneath several layers of absurdly expensive blankets, Lián Xù remained completely motionless.
Not because he was asleep.
Because he simply didn't want to move.
For several breaths, he stared up at the embroidered dragon canopy above him.
Then slowly—
he stretched.
Crack.
Crack.
Several joints released pleasant sounds.
His shoulders loosened.
His back relaxed.
Comfortable warmth spread through his limbs.
For the first time since transmigrating—
he genuinely felt relaxed.
Inside his head, imaginary fireworks were exploding.
Three days complete.
I survived political disasters.
I survived mysterious old monsters.
I survived court meetings.
I got points.
I didn't die.
His expression slowly became solemn.
Today… today should finally be peaceful.
Lián Xù remained beneath the blankets, staring at the embroidered dragon canopy above him.
A smile gradually climbed onto his face.
"This..."
he murmured with heartfelt emotion toward the ceiling,
"...is what retirement feels like."
Then—
Ding.
A familiar mechanical voice suddenly echoed inside his mind.
Lián Xù froze.
His eyes widened slightly.
No way.
No way no way.
The system screen unfolded before his vision in pale blue light.
[Mission Complete.]
[Mission: Maintain Useless Emperor Persona]
[Status: Completed]
[Evaluation: Excellent]
[Reward Distributed:]
[Mortal Rank Cultivation]
[5000 Misjudgment Points]
Silence.
Lián Xù stared.
Then sat upright so quickly that the blankets slid down around his waist.
"...Completed?"
His expression slowly changed.
Then changed again.
Then exploded.
"Holy—"
He abruptly stopped himself.
Right.
Emperor.
Dignity.
Maintain dignity.
Inside his head, however—
absolute chaos erupted.
IT ACTUALLY WORKED?!
I GOT REWARDS?!
THIS PROTOTYPE THING DIDN'T SCAM ME?!
Warmth suddenly spread through his chest.
No—
not warmth.
Energy.
It burst outward from somewhere deep inside his body and flowed through his limbs like heated streams running beneath frozen earth.
Lián Xù's body trembled slightly.
The sensation was strange.
His muscles tightened.
Bones released faint crackling sounds.
Warm currents traveled across his meridians.
The exhaustion hidden within his body melted away like snow beneath sunlight.
His breathing suddenly felt lighter.
His hearing sharpened.
Even the morning sounds outside the chamber became unusually clear.
The rustling leaves.
The distant birds.
The flowing water from jade fountains.
Everything felt sharper.
Cleaner.
For one brief moment—
the world itself seemed brighter.
Lián Xù slowly blinked.
"...Oh."
"...OH."
"...OH?!"
His eyes widened.
OH MY GOD.
IT'S WORKING.
IT'S ACTUALLY WORKING.
Without hesitation, Lián Xù immediately sat cross-legged on the bed.
Right.
Cultivation.
He remembered that Mortal Rank cultivation came with a fragmentary cultivation method obtained from the previous reward.
Although it was incomplete, the system had said it was usable.
Lián Xù immediately closed his eyes.
Fragments of information surfaced inside his mind.
Circulation routes.
Meridian pathways.
Methods of gathering spiritual qi.
He carefully followed them.
Outside sounds gradually faded.
His breathing slowed.
One breath.
Two breaths.
Three breaths.
He concentrated harder.
Gather spiritual qi.
Come on.
This is the moment.
The beginning of my rise.
Protagonist music, start playing.
Silence.
Nothing happened.
"..."
Lián Xù frowned slightly.
Maybe he made a mistake.
He tried again.
Five breaths.
Ten breaths.
Fifteen.
Nothing.
No spiritual qi.
No mysterious energy.
No warm current entering his body.
Absolutely nothing.
The room remained quiet.
Lián Xù slowly opened one eye.
"...Huh?"
Then both eyes opened.
"...Wait."
He straightened slightly.
"No no no."
He closed his eyes again.
Gather.
Gather harder.
Gather with feelings.
Gather with determination.
Gather with plot armor.
Ten more breaths passed.
Nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
Silence filled the room.
Lián Xù sat there motionlessly.
The expression on his face gradually became blank.
Then suspicious.
Then offended.
"...System."
"...Explain."
Ding.
[Host possesses Origin Body.]
[Host lacks Origin Spiritual Root.]
[Ordinary cultivation methods ineffective.]
[Unable to gather spiritual Qi.]
"..."
Lián Xù stared.
"...Excuse me?"
The corners of his mouth twitched slightly.
"...You're telling me..."
"...I finally got cultivation..."
"...and I still can't cultivate?"
Pain.
Real pain.
He had expected excitement.
Expected dramatic cultivation breakthroughs.
Expected some golden aura exploding around him while old grandpas cried tears of shock.
Instead—
he got absolutely nothing.
Lián Xù fell backward onto the bed.
His soul briefly left his body.
Prototype system.
Refund please.
As if sensing the despair radiating from him—
the system voice rang out again.
Ding.
[Suggestion:]
[Acquire Origin Spiritual Root.]
[Origin Root required for Qi gathering.]
Lián Xù blinked.
Origin Root?
He immediately sat back up.
"So where can I—"
Then—
footsteps.
Fast footsteps.
The smile disappeared immediately.
No.
No no no.
Lián Xù slowly turned his head.
The footsteps continued approaching outside.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
Leather boots against polished stone.
Quick.
Uneven.
Urgent.
His face slowly stiffened.
Years of reading novels had taught him one universal truth.
Peaceful mornings never came with urgent footsteps.
Ever.
That was basic genre logic.
The footsteps stopped outside.
Silence followed.
Then—
Creak.
The chamber doors opened.
A servant hurried inside before dropping to his knees so quickly his sleeves nearly tangled beneath him.
"Y-Your Majesty!"
His breathing sounded uneven.
Lián Xù narrowed his eyes.
Danger.
Definitely danger.
Please don't say assassins.
Please don't say rebellion.
Please don't say ministers.
Anything except ministers.
The servant swallowed.
"The First Prince... has returned."
Silence.
Lián Xù blinked.
Once.
Twice.
"...Wait."
Pause.
"...Brother?"
Another pause.
"...The scary war-god brother?"
A cool breeze drifted through the room.
Far away, thunder rolled softly.
Lián Xù stared blankly ahead.
"...Why does that somehow sound more dangerous than assassins?"
*****
Moments later—
The palace training grounds stretched beneath a pale morning sky.
Thin clouds drifted high overhead like faded brushstrokes upon white silk, while cold wind wandered across the open grounds carrying traces of iron, dust, and winter grass.
The warmth lingering from the imperial chamber vanished the instant Lián Xù stepped outside.
The cold wasn't severe.
Just enough to creep beneath his robes and brush lightly across his skin.
Enough to remind him that reality still existed.
Stone pathways cut through the training grounds like gray rivers winding across a field of steel. Military banners rose from both sides, their dark blue fabric rippling slowly in the wind, embroidered dragons twisting and unfurling as though preparing to awaken.
Rows of imperial guards stood nearby.
Silent.
Motionless.
Only occasionally did the faint sound of armor shifting break the stillness.
Clink.
Clink.
The atmosphere felt strangely heavy.
Not because anyone spoke.
But because no one did.
Then Lián Xù saw him.
A lone figure stood near the center of the field.
Tall.
Still.
The morning sun fell behind him, outlining broad shoulders with pale gold light.
Azure armor wrapped around his body in layered plates engraved with dragons and clouds. Time and battle had left shallow marks upon the metal, traces of swords and blades that had failed to cut through completely.
Near his neck, several old scars crossed exposed skin.
Not ugly scars.
Not disfiguring scars.
Battle scars.
The kind carved into men who survived places where others died.
His posture was relaxed.
Yet steady.
Like a spear planted quietly into the earth.
Not moving.
Not wavering.
Simply existing.
Cold wind moved through the grounds.
His dark cloak shifted softly behind him.
Nearby soldiers unconsciously straightened.
Lián Xù stared for several moments.
Then his mind supplied exactly one thought.
Oh wow.
He's exactly what happens if intimidation becomes a person.
The figure slowly turned.
Sharp eyes landed on him.
For a brief moment—
the surrounding noise seemed to fade.
Lián Hào's gaze shifted slightly.
Xu'er...
He looks thinner.
Did court affairs become that troublesome?
Has he been sleeping properly?
Did those old bastards force too much onto him?
Countless thoughts crossed his mind in an instant.
Outwardly—
his expression did not change.
"...Your Majesty."
Lián Xù stared back.
"...Brother."
Silence.
Wind swept across the field.
Several dried leaves rolled over stone.
Neither moved.
Lián Hào suddenly realized something.
During the journey back from the border, he had imagined this reunion countless times.
None of those imagined scenes had included this strange silence.
He wanted to walk over.
Wanted to grab his little brother's shoulders.
Wanted to ask whether he had been eating well.
Whether he had slept properly.
Whether anyone had bullied him.
Instead—
after several seconds—
"You've gotten taller."
"..."
Lián Xù looked at him.
Then looked at him again.
"...That's your opening line?"
"..."
Lián Hào coughed lightly.
The corners of his eyes softened briefly.
"...Mm."
Then, as though suddenly remembering something, he immediately returned to his cold expression.