Lately, the entire capital has been abuzz with a shocking rumor.
Just a couple of days ago, early in the morning, a ragged young man knocked on the gates of Lord Zhou, the Prefect of the Capital.
He claimed to be none other than Fu Ye, the Sixth Prince who went missing fourteen years ago during the fall of the capital. After years of hardship in foreign lands, he had finally made his way back to his homeland.
They said that although the young man looked thin and worn, he had the unmistakable air of nobility about him. What’s more, his features bore a striking resemblance to Lady Zhaoyang—Fu Ye’s birth mother. The news spread like wildfire, and soon crowds of curious onlookers gathered at the Zhou residence, where people were seen coming and going non-stop.
Rumors painted a vivid picture: first, the Prefect’s father-in-law, the Grand Chancellor Xie Qin’an, rushed to the Zhou estate.
The next day, several eunuchs in crimson robes from the palace arrived. Following them came Consort Ning—who once cared for the Sixth Prince—traveling from the Lihua Palace to verify the truth. Finally, Madam Sun, the chief palace steward and head of palace affairs, was dispatched by the Empress Dowager herself.
It was said that after thorough questioning by multiple palace groups, the young man responded flawlessly to inquiries about past palace events. Not a single slip-up. The red birthmark on the back of his neck matched the one the Sixth Prince was known to have. The final confirmation came when Qin, a trusted eunuch of the Emperor, arrived. Upon seeing the young man, he dropped to his knees in tears.
It turned out that during the barbarian invasion and the fire at Lihua Palace, he had escaped with the then-infant prince. In the chaos, both of them were burned. The young man now bore the same burn scars on his arm—undeniable proof that he was indeed the long-lost Sixth Prince.
The court was thrown into an uproar. The Emperor summoned him to the palace, and the entire city was in a frenzy. Even though it was the depths of winter and snow was falling heavily, people still packed the streets, eager for a glimpse.
A grand procession set off toward the Heavenly Gate. The Prefect of the Capital led the way, flanked by golden-armored guards, forming an imposing spectacle.
Inside the carriage, Fu Ye—who had just transmigrated into this world—listened to the roar of the crowd outside, feeling nothing but sheer dread.
In his mind, the system’s voice chirped on: “Honestly, I don’t know all the details. You were thrown into this world so suddenly, I’ll just cut to the chase and tell you what matters most.”
“First, this Emperor is not your typical feudal monarch. Most rulers have to play politics with their ministers and worry about their legacy. Not this guy. He’s an absolute dictator. If he wants something, it happens. Period. And he’s also a certified maniac—violent, bloodthirsty, and with a terrible temper. So whatever you do, stay humble and submissive.”
Fu Ye: “…”
“Second, it’s too late to back out now. No matter what happens, you must swear up and down that you really are the Sixth Prince. Even though you’re totally fake!”
Fu Ye: “!!”
Someone save him!!
What kind of nightmare intro is this?!
Why did he get stuck impersonating royalty in front of a bloodthirsty tyrant?!
Wasn’t he supposed to be retired after decades of diligent work in the Quick Transmigration Bureau? THIS is his reward?!
“C’mon, don’t think like that! If you play your cards right, even a fake prince can live in luxury and power for life. That’s way better than becoming some random peasant, right?”
“…Well, I guess that’s true.”
Now that the host was showing signs of cooperation, the system (named Xiao Ai) perked up. “Besides, all the preliminary tests have been passed. Worst case scenario, if you confess now, it’s high treason—execution at best. But if you keep going, you’re practically already a prince! You just have to meet the Emperor today. Sure, he’s crazy, but just answer what he asks. He won’t really kill his own brother, right?”
“…Didn’t you just say he already killed all his brothers?”
System: “…Just be extra respectful. You’ve got that pitiful, helpless face—use it!”
“…Okay.”
Fu Ye let out a long sigh.
Thankfully, his last mission had him playing a total couch potato, so he’d gotten used to going with the flow.
The noise outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the clatter of wheels on stone. He peeked out from behind the curtain and saw the Heavenly Gate looming ahead.
Towering walls of black basalt stone rose into the sky. On either side stood massive stone beasts with fierce eyes and gaping maws. Just one glance made your blood run cold.
“This is the first gate of the palace. It’s not the tallest, but it is the thickest—over a hundred meters. Basically impenetrable.”
“You’re clueless about the plot but full of trivia, huh?”
“I’m just making conversation to ease your nerves… now look over here—”
With the system chattering like a tour guide, Fu Ye passed through the Heavenly Gate.
The royal residence was often described as “nine-layered,” symbolizing its impenetrable defenses. But this place didn’t just use the metaphor—it really had nine gates. Everyone else dismounted at the first one, but Fu Ye remained in the carriage, passing through gate after gate.
Each time a gate opened ahead, the one behind slammed shut. By the fifth gate, he was made to dismount and transferred into a sedan chair. The surrounding palace walls were impossibly high, their gloom pressing in like a mouth about to swallow him whole.
Finally, he caught sight of ornate palaces, their layered rooftops gleaming with red and green tiles—surprisingly bright and opulent. After passing a gate flanked by two kneeling, gold-plated elephant statues, Fu Ye stepped down again. The golden-armored guards stopped there, replaced by black-armored ones, who led him and the Prefect deeper into the complex.
There were many eunuchs and palace maids, but not a single one spoke. The only sound was the faint jingle of their jewelry as they moved, adding to the eerie silence. Even the wind seemed to die down. Only the snow continued to fall softly.
At the final gate, guarded by black bronze deer, a lean, pale-faced eunuch in red robes stepped forward.
“Lord Prefect, this is where you stop. His Majesty only summoned the honored guest.”
The Prefect turned to Fu Ye, said nothing, and simply nodded before stepping aside.
Fu Ye didn’t dare say a word. He followed the eunuch deeper into the palace.
There were more people inside, but none of them looked at him. Heads bowed, faces blank—it was as if he were invisible.
The silence was oppressive, broken only by the occasional caw of a crow from the eaves. His boots crunched softly in the snow, each step echoing like a death knell.
Fu Ye didn’t feel like he was going to meet an emperor.
He felt like he was walking into the underworld to meet the King of Hell.
Eventually, they stopped outside a palace. It wasn’t the grandest structure, nor was it centrally located. Built entirely of dark green stone, the building gave off an aura even colder than the snowy air around it.
“Please wait here for a moment, honored guest. I’ll go in and announce your arrival.”
The eunuch in red robes stepped into the hall, leaving Fu Ye standing outside. Beneath the eaves stood over a dozen eunuchs dressed in blue robes, each with a black jade token at their waist. Not one of them moved an inch.
It was too quiet. Fu Ye didn’t even dare to cough. The Emperor clearly had a flair for theatrics—he stood there until his legs went numb, snow piling silently on his shoulders.
Xiao Ai’s voice chirped in his mind, “Don’t panic. Just remember what I told you!”
Just as the words landed, the eunuch reappeared. His demeanor was incredibly respectful.
“Honored guest, this way, please.”
He lifted the thick woolen curtain. Even before Fu Ye stepped inside, a wave of warmth hit him in the face. He lowered his head and crossed the high threshold.
The hall was as warm as spring, but the air was thick with the scent of medicine. He’d been nearly frozen outside, and the sudden heat made his head swim. As he stepped further in, someone emerged from within.
He quickly removed his veiled hat.
His identity hadn’t been officially confirmed yet—he was still waiting for the Emperor’s final word. That’s why the eunuch had addressed him only as “honored guest” and not “prince.” Not knowing how to refer to himself, Fu Ye dropped to the floor and respectfully said,
“Your Majesty, this humble one pays respects.”
The floor was actually warm. Fu Ye splayed his hand against it, palm flat to the ground.
After standing outside for so long, his fingers had practically frozen stiff.
Lying prostrate, he saw the figure step closer—and then he saw the man’s bare feet.
They looked like ghost’s feet: long, sinewy, the five metatarsal bones sharply pronounced under the skin, the tendons jutting out starkly, with a faint ashen hue—like he was born to tread on others.
When Fu Ye dared to glance upward, he saw a man cloaked in deep black robes, embroidered with gold thread into a coiling dragon, its body winding and curling across the fabric. Above that—an eerily pale face, full of shadow and coldness, staring down at him from on high like death itself had come calling.
**!!
He might as well have passed out right then and there.**
System: “Honestly? Valid reaction. Dude looks terrifying.”
Fu Ye: “What?!”
And with that, everything went black.
Fu Ye: Are you serious right now?!
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