Before dawn, the Forbidden City, Hall of Mental Cultivation.
The hall blazed with light, as bright as day.
The elderly emperor set down his vermilion brush and lightly tapped the absurd secret report from the Imperial Guard with his fingertips.
An immortal living among men?
He had ruled the empire for decades and killed more people than Lin Feng had ever seen. Immortals? He believed only in himself.
He believed in power, in balance, and in the sharp sword hanging over the heads of all men.
Gu Shen.
A nameless merchant had suddenly become a prize both the Crown Prince and Prince Yan were fighting over. Now, with methods bordering on the demonic, he had toyed with the top experts sent by both sides as if they were in the palm of his hand.
Interesting.
The emperor's "interesting" was not praise. It was the irrepressible excitement of a hunter who had discovered a cunning prey.
He didn't care whether Gu Shen was an immortal. He only cared whether this "scorpion" could be made to serve him—or, better yet, whether he could keep it firmly in his grasp and turn it into a poisonous needle to strike his two good-for-nothing sons.
"Someone come." The emperor's voice was old, yet carried an unquestionable authority.
A figure hurried in and knelt before him, head bowed low. It was Little Fuzi, a newly promoted young eunuch serving at the emperor's side.
He was young, quick-witted, and ruthless enough. To climb the ranks, he had even pushed his own palace companion down a well, just to prove his loyalty to the chief eunuch.
The emperor liked young men like him. Like a hungry dog whining for food, he would bite anyone's throat for you as long as you gave him a bone.
"Your Majesty." Little