"Haha… hahahaha… HAHAHAHAHA!!!"
Xue Xing threw his head back and burst into laughter. Watching his elder brother, Crown Prince Xue Ye, fall to Guang Ling's arrow, not even a flicker of sorrow appeared in his eyes. Instead, they gleamed with manic excitement and frenzy.
His laughter echoed throughout the bloodstained imperial plaza, filled with the madness of unrestrained ambition.
"Brother… oh, brother… In the end, you still lost to me! From this day forth, the throne of the Heaven Dou Empire is mine! Hahaha!!"
Xue Xing's entire body trembled with elation. His fists clenched and raised high, as if he could already feel the supreme power of the imperial crown falling into his hands.
He envisioned himself ascending the throne, receiving the adoration of the masses.
For years, he had hidden in his brother's shadow, playing the part of a loyal and virtuous prince, all while concealing his obsessive desire for the throne.
Now, with Xue Ye dead and all obstacles swept away, he stood just one step from ultimate power—no, it was already within his grasp.
Xue Xing reveled in his impending coronation, consumed by visions of supreme authority. Meanwhile, Gu Han and Ning Fengzhi stood at his side, silently scoffing.
Gu Han's eyes flashed with disdain and contempt as he thought to himself:
"Xue Xing really is a fool. He thinks sitting on the throne means victory, not realizing he's just a puppet—a piece on the chessboard of Spirit Hall and the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Clan."
But perhaps that was for the best. If he had been wise and truly willing to assist Xue Ye in governing the Empire, there would have been no opening to exploit.
Ning Fengzhi's eyes narrowed slightly, a faint smile curling at his lips as he calculated in silence:
"Supporting such a fool is perfect. He's easy to control. Once his position is secure, the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Clan and Spirit Hall can gradually infiltrate and eventually hollow out the Empire, turning it into our plaything."
Bibi Dong, still a young girl at heart, couldn't help but feel disturbed by the carnage on the plaza.
Blood drenched the ground. Corpses lay scattered. Cries of agony filled the air. And the frozen body of Xue Ye made it all the more unbearable.
A pang of sorrow flickered across her eyes.
She recalled the stories her junior brother once told her about the cruelty of political struggle. The brutality of those tales overlapped perfectly with the scene before her.
She knew all too well that in the whirlpool of power, compassion would only lead to ruin.
Taking a deep breath, Bibi Dong forced down the ache in her heart and sighed inwardly:
"So this is what power struggles are—blood-soaked and merciless. Once you're involved, there's no turning back."
Though filled with helplessness and sorrow, Bibi Dong understood: as the Holy Maiden of Spirit Hall, she had already stepped onto this thorn-laden path. There was no choice but to walk it to the end.
She clenched her fists in silence, her eyes growing resolute—as if declaring to this cruel world that she would no longer be swayed by sympathy or pity.
She would become the one who held power, not the one crushed beneath it.
Having known her for years, Gu Han instantly noticed the turmoil in her heart. He turned slightly and reached out his warm, steady hand, gently wrapping it around Bibi Dong's pale fingers.
His touch conveyed a silent strength.
He turned to her and smiled softly—his smile full of warmth and reassurance.
In that moment, a wave of warmth flowed through Bibi Dong's heart.
Amid the cold and brutal power struggle, that gentle comfort was especially precious.
Bibi Dong looked up at Gu Han, their eyes meeting. From his gaze, she saw unwavering support and trust.
It was then she realized—on this treacherous road, she wasn't walking alone.
She had her junior brother beside her.
Together, with their shared resolve and strength, they would carve a path through the thorns, until the entire continent bowed before them.
That thought ignited a blazing light in her eyes. She reversed her grip and squeezed Gu Han's hand in return—accepting the connection he offered.
In truth, Gu Han wasn't the only one offering comfort. Bibi Dong was also silently encouraging him.
Standing in the heart of this chaotic palace, surrounded by blood and death, Gu Han—who had once received the teachings of a great civilization in his previous life—felt a storm of emotions.
This was the first time he had deliberately schemed against others.
And those who fell because of his plans weighed heavily on his conscience, like stones pressing against his chest.
He wasn't cruel by nature. And yet, he had thrown himself into this blood-soaked political game.
Back when he agreed to support Xue Xing's coup, part of it was to obtain the Heart of the Sea God locked away in Heaven Dou's treasury. Even if he wasn't chosen, he needed to secure it for himself.
The other reason—he was the disciple of the Pope, and a core figure within Spirit Hall.
With great power comes great responsibility.
For the sake of Spirit Hall's grand ambition—for its future dominion over the continent—he had to steel himself.
In this struggle for supremacy, if they didn't take the initiative, Spirit Hall would fall as it had in the original timeline—toppled by the combined might of other factions.
And on this continent, Heaven Dou and Star Luo were already at odds. Spirit Hall, caught between them, was hated by both.
If they didn't act now, they would inevitably be destroyed by the so-called "children of destiny" uniting all powers against them.
So before that day arrived, Spirit Hall needed to trample every force beneath its feet.
Only by unifying the continent could peace truly be achieved.
Inter-state conflict would cease. Only civilian matters would remain—and those could be solved gradually.
Gu Han understood the importance of unification. But he also knew peaceful unification was impossible.
Like the Qin Empire of his previous life, they could only rely on overwhelming force to bring the world to heel.
Even with all his reasons, guilt still gnawed at him.
But he suppressed that guilt with all his strength and murmured to himself:
"Everything is for Spirit Hall. For lasting peace on this continent. For Spirit Hall's ultimate glory…"
At that moment, the Crown Prince's personal guard had been completely annihilated. Only the three deans—Meng Shenji, Zhi Lin, and Bai Baoshan—remained.
Yet their soul power had been sealed by Guang Ling. Their bodies were tightly bound, forced to kneel before Gu Han and the others.
Xue Xing stared at the three esteemed elders, thoughts raclegitimacying. He was tempted to recruit them, to add to his claim to the throne.
With that, he spoke:
"Honored deans, your reputations are known across the Empire. I have long admired your wisdom."
"If the three of you are willing to speak on my behalf—to denounce Crown Prince Xue Ye for leading troops into the palace in an attempt to rebel—not only will I pardon you, I will preserve your positions at the Royal Academy and elevate you to the rank of Marquis, with honors and prestige."
The deans responded only with a cold snort, heads lowered in silence.
Xue Xing's gaze darkened. He raised the stakes.
"If you serve me, your families will prosper. You'll continue to enjoy wealth and honor in the Empire."
"But if you refuse…" his eyes turned vicious, "then your families will share in your punishment. Shame, death, and ruin—all because of your stubbornness."
"I doubt any of you would want your family to suffer because of your decisions?"
Hearing this, Gu Han frowned slightly. He had originally considered recruiting them through more discreet means—or eliminating them if they refused.
But Xue Xing's words made his mouth twitch. He shot him a sideways glance.
Only someone like Gu Han, a transmigrator, could notice how ridiculous that line was.
Below, the three deans were deeply conflicted.
They had supported Xue Ye to uphold the rightful lineage of the royal family. They had hoped to earn a name for themselves by backing the rightful ruler.
But they never expected Xue Xing's backers would be Spirit Hall and the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Clan.
Now, the tide had turned.
And Xue Xing's offer was a double-edged sword.
On one hand—preserved status, titles, family prosperity. An irresistible temptation.
On the other—a looming threat. Collective punishment. Their families' safety hanging by a thread.
Under such threats and promises, their moral resolve began to falter.
The three exchanged glances. Years of camaraderie had made them understand each other's thoughts instantly.
If they refused now—not only would they die, but their families would be doomed.
Faced with life and death, they let go of their ideals. At least they could console themselves with the thought: Xue Xing was still of royal blood.
After sensing his comrades' silent agreement, Meng Shenji sighed and said with feigned reluctance:
"Sigh… Very well. We agree."
Xue Xing beamed with satisfaction and ordered their bindings removed.
"A wise choice. As long as you do as I say, wealth and honor will be yours."
He then turned to Gu Han and the others, a trace of smugness in his eyes—though he may not have even realized it himself.
Gu Han and Ning Fengzhi nodded faintly, but a flicker of contempt flashed in their eyes.
To Spirit Hall and the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Clan—protected by Titled Douluo—these three deans were nothing more than slightly bigger ants.
Useful if obedient. Disposable if not.
They were nothing worth fearing.
~~~
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