Xu Kun the Emperor

Seeing the Emperor for the first time, yet feeling so nonchalant? Is this the level of mental maturity an eleven-year-old should have?

Is he getting old?

Or is the world changing too fast and too drastically, to the point where he doesn't even realize children these days are this precocious?

No... that's not right. Forget about normal children; even those little debt-collectors he sired himself don't dare to be this calm when they see him... well, except for his little darling, Xu Tianzhen.

Right, speaking of the precious little darling he worked so hard to cultivate at his age, the old Emperor felt the fire he had spent half the night suppressing flare up all over again.

When it came time to hunt for her third Soul Ring, she ignored the Demonic Forest, the Jingyang Mountain Range, and the Sun-Moon Valley right on their doorstep, insisting on traveling thousands of miles to the Star Dou Great Forest.

Going there was one thing—after all, a third Soul Ring doesn't require visiting anywhere particularly dangerous—but she ended up deep in the Mixed Zone and was nearly kidnapped by an Evil Soul Master.

And then, the worst part happened: she took a fancy to some wild brat who popped out of nowhere to play the hero, and she's been pestering her old father to let the boy become her consort.

He was already annoyed from bickering with those useless, lung-rotted nobles all day and sifting through a mountain of memorials in the afternoon.

Now, to top it all off, he has to worry at night that his prize cabbage, which he's spent years carefully nurturing, might be snatched away by some random wild boar!

His dear daughter!

How old are you, anyway! Can't you just study hard and focus on your cultivation at this age?!

When your father—a sage and virtuous ruler in his prime—was your age, he only knew how to...

He only knew how to... er...

Associating this with his own youth, when he was just over ten years old, he realized he had been busy tearing tiles off the roof back then.

One day he'd skip class to sneak out of the palace with his lackeys to peek at a bride; the next, he'd be sending love letters to the pretty girls at the Sun-Moon Royal Soul Engineer Academy; and the day after that, he'd get dead drunk at the Imperial Kitchen Bureau, only to be dragged by his ears to the ancestral temple by his furious parents to face family discipline...

The old Emperor's train of thought snapped with a loud crack.

Wait!

The root of all these problems seems to actually lie with him!

At this moment, the old Emperor, realizing that the source of all his troubles was himself, couldn't help but feel a bit guilty.

So much so that the long speech he had been brewing was swallowed right back down.

"..."

After a long while, the old Emperor, feeling increasingly sheepish, sighed and gave a helpless order to the attendant nearby: "Someone, bring a seat."

Before the words had even faded, a thin, hunched figure emerged silently from the curtains beside the imperial desk. The figure paced with a strange gait, flickering a few times across the vast Wenhua Hall before placing a small stool directly in front of the desk in a show of intimidation.

'Oi, Old Qian, there's a Title Douluo hiding next to the old Emperor.'

The Rakshasa Phantom, unable to keep its mouth shut, continued to mutter.

'He is an Emperor, after all. It's only natural he'd have a Title Douluo by his side for protection.'

With that, Qian Yuhan walked to the small stool in front of the imperial desk without a shred of psychological burden and sat down gracefully: "Thank you, Your Majesty, for the seat."

Only then did the old Emperor—who had spent his life fighting for the throne and seizing power—finally get a clear look at Qian Yuhan's face in the lamplight.

The boy before him had deep, profound eyes, thin, pale lips, and skin as white as snow. His features lacked any hint of warmth, and his sharp, straight nose bridge made the lines of his yet-to-mature jaw appear even more chiseled.

A head of soft, golden hair draped casually over his shoulders, lending him a unique, regal beauty.

What made it impossible to look away, however, was the indescribable aura Qian Yuhan carried.

It was a strange temperament—noble yet ethereal, aloof yet untouchable.

The divine has no fixed form.

If one had to use something to describe the legendary gods, one might catch a glimpse of it through Qian Yuhan's face, which carried a faint, sacred charm.

Hmph, this kid really is good-looking. He's only a tiny bit worse than I was in my prime. No wonder that silly girl Tianzhen has such ideas.

Yes, even by the most critical standards, this old father of an Emperor gritted his teeth and gave him a high rating: only slightly inferior to his own younger self.

He then withdrew his inquisitive gaze and, pretending to be indifferent, picked up a porcelain cup to take a small sip of the herbal tea he had specifically left to cool down to soothe his temper.

Clack—

As the old Emperor slammed the lid back onto the porcelain cup, Qian Yuhan shifted his focus to the conflicted old man who had been warring with himself.

"I heard from Xu Yan and the others that you are from the Heaven Spirit Empire?" the old Emperor asked.

"Yes," Qian Yuhan nodded. Under the vigilant gaze of the hunched old man by the curtains, he took a stack of identification documents from his storage Soul Tool. After the Title Douluo inspected them, they were passed to the old Emperor's side.

"..."

Facing the pile of documents, the old Emperor didn't bother to flip through them; he didn't even glance at them. He simply watched Qian Yuhan quietly, saying nothing for a long time.

The entire Wenhua Hall was shrouded in an eerie silence.

It is unknown how much time passed—long enough for the Rakshasa Phantom to complain for the umpteenth time about whether this silly old man had fallen asleep with his eyes open—but the old Emperor finally spoke.

He said:

"Boy, do you know? We have an old saying in the Sun Moon Empire."

"It goes: 'He who holds thunder in his heart while his face remains as calm as a lake is fit to be a great general.'"

"You, young man, are truly extraordinary."

"Your Majesty is too kind."

"Imperial We are indeed praising you, but more importantly, We are warning you." The old emperor raised a hand to cut off Qian Yuhan, saying slowly:

"Young people should act like young people. Being too mature too early only makes one stand out like a crane in a flock of chickens."

"Imperial We know that compared to your peers—no, to be precise, compared to everyone Imperial We have ever known—your talent of reaching the four-ring level at eleven years old, and your record of battling an eight-ring Evil Soul Master, are enough to look down upon, or even crush them."

"However, no matter how powerful a genius is, they are fragile before they have fully matured. A genius who dies before growing up is worthless."

"Therefore... Imperial We can ignore who you were before, what strange origins you might have, and we can also refrain from discussing whatever unspeakable past you may possess."

"What Imperial We want to discuss with you is the future!"

"Imperial We can treat you like a genius subject born and raised in our Sun Moon Empire, nurturing and protecting you, and even betroth the empire's princess to you."

"And what Imperial We want, in truth, is only that pitifully small amount!" The old emperor used two fingers to make a gesture in the air, repeating emphatically: "Just that tiny, little bit."

Regarding these words from the old emperor, Qian Yuhan did not feel the slightest bit surprised.