The overwhelming pressure crashed down like a mountain, making Qiao Xuan’s bones creak. He abruptly supported himself on the ground with one hand and fell into a half-kneeling position, cold sweat dripping from his forehead. His eyes stung, and he almost felt like crying.

All he really wanted was to pass through here, but not only did he fail to find the Mountains and Seas Map, he also ended up in this kind of trouble!

Everyone said that Emperor Hualan was benevolent and merciful, a revered and highly respected deity who would never commit the senseless slaughter of the innocent or bully the weak… Yet at this moment, Qiao Xuan could clearly sense Hualan’s undisguised killing intent!

Qiao Xuan had no doubt that if he said the wrong word, Hualan would snuff him out like an ant, easily reducing him to dust.

A strong sense of crisis spurred Qiao Xuan into rapid thinking. If he were to tell the truth, something like: “Sorry, I just wanted to borrow your Mountains and Seas Map. I accidentally trespassed into your restricted area. It wasn’t on purpose, I really meant no harm.” — he might not even finish the sentence before he was turned to ash.

No way. He had to save himself!

Fortunately, Qiao Xuan suddenly remembered why this place felt so familiar. This was the house from his first lifetime during his tribulation!

This puppet was also crafted to resemble him completely! It was obvious that Hualan was connected to his first emotional tribulation, but the target of his first emotional tribulation wasn’t Hualan—it was Xiao Lü, the emperor of Nanyue Kingdom. Xiao Lü had been dead for nearly a thousand years, and he looked completely different from Hualan. By all logic, Hualan couldn’t be the same person…

Yet everything before him seemed to suggest that Hualan was indeed related to Xiao Lü.

Since he himself could go through tribulations, could it be…

Your Majesty, could you have undergone a tribulation as well?

The situation was urgent, and there was no time to think it through. He could only gamble!

Qiao Xuan struggled to lift his head. His eyes were slightly red, and his expression seemed a bit dazed and fearful. He softly called out, “Your Majesty…”

Hualan met the youth’s gaze, and for a moment, his breath caught.

In that instant, Hualan was transported back a thousand years, to the lonely deep palace, where a youth silently waited for him day after day, always showing a joyful and expectant expression when he arrived, softly calling him: “Your Majesty, you’re here.”

As if he was his whole world.

A look of pain flickered in Hualan’s eyes.

The youth before him didn’t resemble his Xuan’er, yet the way this boy stared at him, the way he softly called him Your Majesty, every subtle expression, and even the slight tremble at the end of his words, all reminded him of his long-lost Xuan’er.

Even the puppet he had painstakingly crafted couldn’t compare to the boy standing in front of him.

After all, a lifeless thing remains lifeless, only resembling the outward appearance, with none of the essence.

But in this youth before him, Hualan had finally found that familiar feeling again…

Hualan’s anger slowly dissipated. He landed on the ground, his gaze dark and deep as he looked at the youth before him.

Earlier, he had been hosting guests outside when he suddenly sensed his puppet being activated. The puppet would only speak when someone approached, and Hualan would immediately know of any activity. So, as soon as he sensed the puppet’s movement, he realized that someone had trespassed into his restricted area!

The thought that someone had dared to break into this place enraged Hualan. Without hesitation, he left the banquet immediately.

But what he hadn’t expected was that in this trespasser, he would feel the long-forgotten sense of familiarity he’d been yearning for. And the way the youth called him Your Majesty with red-rimmed eyes… Hualan found it impossible to continue with his killing intent.

He took a deep breath, lowered his gaze, and spoke calmly, “Who are you?”

The pressure vanished, and Qiao Xuan felt his entire body relax. He remained half-kneeling on the ground, his head lowered, thinking desperately.

He had gambled correctly!

But if he didn’t reveal his identity, the sense of familiarity he had deliberately evoked for Hualan would only buy him the chance to speak. Passing this second hurdle would be difficult. If he couldn’t say something that satisfied Hualan, he’d still be facing certain death…

What excuse should he come up with?

Would anyone believe him if he said he accidentally trespassed? T_T

That damned unreliable stupid crane!

Qiao Xuan slowly lifted his head, his eyelashes trembling as he looked pitifully at Hualan, biting his lip without saying a word.

Hualan’s expression darkened slightly. He should have asked, “How did you get in here? What are your intentions? What are you planning?” But for some reason, when he met the youth’s eyes, he subconsciously asked instead, “Why did you just call me Your Majesty?”

The Heavenly Realm was different from the Mortal Realm. The title Emperor here was just an honorific and didn’t mean he ruled the Heavenly Realm or controlled the fates of others. Though other deities respected and revered him, they wouldn’t use such a title as Your Majesty.

But the youth’s expression and address had more in common with someone from the Mortal Realm addressing their sovereign…

Qiao Xuan had just done it to save his life. He had deliberately evoked a sense of nostalgia to get Hualan to show mercy and remember him. But that didn’t mean he wanted to reunite with Hualan. He hesitated for a moment, then put on a look of fear and trepidation, saying, “I-I just recently ascended to the Heavenly Realm and heard that the Emperor is one of the most revered figures here. Could it be that I used the wrong title…?”

Oh, was that all?

Hualan didn’t confirm or deny it.

Qiao Xuan carefully glanced at Hualan and stammered, “I-I just arrived at the Heavenly Palace for the first time, and I got lost…”

Hualan squinted at him, his expression clearly saying: I’m watching you make things up.

Qiao Xuan, drenched in cold sweat, had no more excuses. Just when he was completely cornered, unable to think of what to say, a white figure suddenly appeared from the rift in the sky.

Jiang Weiqing’s robes fluttered in the wind. His gaze was sharp as he swiftly appeared before Qiao Xuan, placing himself between Qiao Xuan and Hualan, blocking Hualan’s view!

Qiao Xuan stared blankly at Jiang Weiqing’s back.

Why was Jiang Weiqing here at this exact moment? Could it be he had been keeping an eye on him all along?

Hualan’s expression instantly turned cold. Just moments ago, Jiang Weiqing had refused Ruohua, and Hualan hadn’t shown any displeasure. But now, his face was clearly darkened with dissatisfaction. His tone became frosty as he spoke, “This is my palace’s forbidden area. For Sword Sovereign to intrude so rashly, isn’t that rather inappropriate?”

Jiang Weiqing’s eyes remained calm, and while his attitude seemed respectful, he didn’t retreat an inch. He fixed his gaze on Hualan and said, “This person is a newly ascended disciple of my Guiyuan Sword Sect. His ignorance led to his trespassing in your forbidden area, and for that, I offer my sincerest apologies on his behalf. However, since he is my sect’s disciple, I believe it is my responsibility to take him back and discipline him myself. There’s no need to trouble the Emperor further.”

His words were courteous, but the meaning was clear—he intended to protect his own.

Hualan stared at Jiang Weiqing.

Jiang Weiqing clasped his hands in salute and said, “If the Emperor has no objections, I’ll take him away now and ensure he receives a proper education, preventing any future mistakes.”

With that, he grabbed Qiao Xuan’s wrist and said in a low voice, “Let’s go.”

Seeing Jiang Weiqing taking him away, Hualan’s gaze turned slightly colder. The youth had been spouting lies. The banquet hall was far from this place; no matter how lost he was, he couldn’t have accidentally wandered in. Moreover, passing through his forbidden area unscathed wasn’t something an ordinary person could do. His excuses had been full of holes…

This was his Heavenly Palace. If he had insisted on keeping the boy, Jiang Weiqing wouldn’t have been able to take him away so easily.

Yet he had let him go.

All because of that momentary sense of familiarity.

As if a voice had told him: If you kill him, you will regret it.

But why did someone so similar to Xuan’er appear in a place he shouldn’t be? What was his purpose?

And why was Jiang Weiqing so determined to protect a newly ascended disciple?

Hualan fell into deep thought.

He stepped back into the courtyard. The puppet boy sat quietly in his wheelchair, smiling brightly as he saw him approach. “Your Majesty.”

Hualan raised his hand and gently stroked the boy’s hair. A look of tenderness and longing appeared in his eyes. His lips moved as if he wanted to say something, but in the end, he merely sighed softly and turned to leave.

Ripples shimmered in the air in front of the mountain wall, and Hualan appeared outside the forbidden area.

The desolate palace was quiet as ever, everything seemingly in order. Hualan squinted his eyes slightly, and suddenly with a gesture, a crane hiding in the woods fell down with a thud at his feet.

The crane trembled violently, bowing repeatedly in terror, too scared to make a sound.

Hualan gazed down at it, and it didn’t take long for him to understand what had happened. His voice was cold as he said, “It seems I’ve been too lenient with you. How dare you bring an outsider here? Hand over all the benefits you received, and then go accept your punishment.”

The crane collapsed to the ground in despair, filled with regret!

It should have left earlier, but its curiosity got the better of it, and it had stayed behind. That despicable guy had coerced and bribed it—it had never liked him. It had thought that if Qiao Xuan was caught, the Emperor would punish him severely, so it had stayed to watch the show.

Who would have expected that the Emperor would let Qiao Xuan go so easily, while it was caught red-handed? Not only did it have to cough up all its gains, but it also had to face punishment. Truly, a case of trying to steal a chicken but losing the rice instead!

…

Qiao Xuan still hadn’t fully grasped the situation when Jiang Weiqing dragged him away.

In the blink of an eye, they had returned to the courtyard from earlier.

Now that Qiao Xuan had calmed down, he felt both frustrated and upset. Either that crane was incredibly stupid, or it had tricked him… And how could he have expected to see his own puppet here? He’d never even imagined such a thing!

So annoying!

Jiang Weiqing furrowed his brows and glanced at the youth. He had intended to offer some words of comfort, but seeing Qiao Xuan’s absent-minded, frustrated, and conflicted expressions, he couldn’t help but notice that despite all these emotions, there wasn’t the slightest hint of regret.

Jiang Weiqing’s lips pressed into a thin line as he said in a low voice, “Do you understand your mistake?”

The cold voice startled Qiao Xuan. He looked up and met Jiang Weiqing’s displeased gaze, feeling a bit embarrassed as he stood there.

No matter what, Jiang Weiqing had shown up just in time and had helped him out a bit. And now wasn’t the time to act tough. When it’s time to admit fault, you admit fault!

Qiao Xuan blinked and immediately admitted his mistake obediently, “This disciple understands his error. Thank you, Sword Sovereign, for your timely assistance.”

The boy had clearly been lost in his own world just moments ago, showing no signs of remorse. But now he was admitting fault so quickly and cleanly…

But whether it was sincere or not was another question.

Jiang Weiqing’s hand by his side tightened slightly.

Back then, his Ah Xuan had been the same—restless and uncontainable, like a bird that couldn’t be caged, always yearning for freedom, always getting into trouble. He’d often sneaked out of the sect, much to Sect Master Feng Hong’s fury.

Every time, it had been Jiang Weiqing who fetched him, cleaned up his mess, and pleaded with the sect master on his behalf. The mischievous boy, normally full of energy, would only pretend to behave when being scolded. Once outside, he’d turn around, make a face, and thank Jiang Weiqing with a grin…

He’d always apologize, but never change.

Jiang Weiqing didn’t know what had gotten into him today. After rejecting Ruohua, he had noticed that Qiao Xuan was missing… Coincidentally, Hualan had left the banquet in anger, and Jiang Weiqing had immediately felt something was wrong, so he had followed.

Sure enough, Qiao Xuan had caused trouble.

In that critical moment, Jiang Weiqing hadn’t hesitated, bearing the brunt of Hualan’s wrath and bringing the boy back…

But this youth was not his Ah Xuan.

Jiang Weiqing’s expression grew colder as he said, “We’ll return to Guiyuan Sword Sect in three days. Until then, you’ll remain here in solitary reflection.”

With a wave of his hand, a barrier appeared, sealing Qiao Xuan inside the room.

Qiao Xuan stood at the door, stunned. Oh no, he was being confined.

Today had truly been an unlucky start. Who would’ve thought that Hualan was somehow connected to his past life?

Qiao Xuan sighed heavily.

…

Qiao Xuan’s first emotional tribulation took place a thousand years ago.

In that life, he was called Rong Xuan, born into the Rong family in the Nanyue Kingdom, the beloved grandson of the current Grand Preceptor Rong.

Nanyue was different from the eastern regions of Chongzhou; it was a mortal kingdom, not a place for cultivators.

At that time, the king of Nanyue was foolish and incompetent, while the royal in-laws held power, leaving the court in turmoil. The General of the State, with his outstanding military achievements, controlled both the court and the military. His sister was the queen, and the general’s ambition was no secret. Those brave enough to speak out had been silenced, leaving the court in a state of constant tension.

Though the queen’s family held tremendous power and the queen herself was favored, she had never been able to produce an heir, so she adopted a young prince.

This prince, Xiao Lü, would later become the emperor of Nanyue.

And he was also Qiao Xuan’s tribulation target.

Xiao Lü’s mother held a lowly position, and both mother and child lived on the brink of survival. After his mother’s untimely death, Xiao Lü was brought to the queen.

The queen told him that his mother had died of illness… but Xiao Lü knew better.

At that time, Xiao Lü was only five years old.

But he understood that to survive, he had to pretend he didn’t know the truth.

He buried his hatred deep in his heart, deliberately appearing mediocre and obedient. He listened to the queen’s every word and showed great respect to the general. He lived cautiously, making sure those around him thought he posed no threat, because he knew his position well—he was nothing more than a puppet propped up by the general and the queen.

If he was to be a puppet, he had to act the part.

He played his role well. At seventeen, he was naturally promoted to crown prince.

As for his brothers… most were already dead or driven mad.

A few years later, his father passed away, and Xiao Lü ascended the throne. To put the queen mother and the general at ease, he married the general’s daughter as his empress.

And so he continued to play the role of a dutiful puppet emperor.

But how could Xiao Lü, as the Son of Heaven, be content to live as a puppet under the control of his enemies? The general was cruel and greedy, and the people of Nanyue suffered terribly. All of this made him unwilling to accept his fate.

Yet to oppose them recklessly would only lead to death. He had to endure humiliation and bide his time.

Fortunately, there were many in the court who opposed the general, so Xiao Lü was not entirely without support. The Grand Preceptor Rong was not only Xiao Lü’s teacher but also his most steadfast ally.

Grand Preceptor Rong was a man of integrity and upright character. Even when the previous emperor was still alive, he was one of the few who dared to speak out against the general’s ambitions. The emperor respected him greatly and made him the crown prince’s teacher. Xiao Lü, naturally gifted and full of ambition for the future of the nation, developed a deep bond with his teacher.

After the previous emperor passed away, Xiao Lü distanced himself from Grand Preceptor Rong to avoid suspicion, ensuring the general wouldn’t see him as a threat. But in secret, he often visited his teacher’s house to discuss matters of state.

Of course, Rong Xuan didn’t know any of this at first.

Rong Xuan was the Grand Preceptor’s youngest and most cherished grandson. Frail and often ill, with limited mobility, he rarely left the family estate.

The boy longed for the outside world, but could only learn about it from books, stories, and the words of his family and servants.

His world was small, simple, confined to the limits of the Rong family estate… until one day, a stranger unexpectedly entered his life.

That day, Rong Xuan was in his courtyard, about to bury a jar of homemade peach blossom wine. But because of his weak legs, he stumbled and fell to the ground. Just as he was feeling frustrated, the door was suddenly pushed open, and a steady, strong arm lifted him up. Rong Xuan looked up and saw a refined, handsome man, his eyes filled with concern. “Are you alright?” the man asked.

Rong Xuan, unused to seeing strangers, was immediately flustered. He quickly thanked the man, saying he was fine.

Just as he was about to continue on his own, the man didn’t leave. Instead, he smiled warmly and offered to help.

Rong Xuan, seeing that the man was well-dressed and carried himself with elegance, assumed he must be an important guest of his father’s. How could he trouble such a person with his own affairs? Yet the man seemed unbothered, smiling as he asked for half a jar of wine as his payment, then rolled up his sleeves and began digging.

Rong Xuan was momentarily stunned.

He rested his chin in his hand, sitting in his wheelchair, watching this handsome, dignified man calmly and gracefully help him bury his jar of peach blossom wine…

When the man was done, he prepared to leave. Rong Xuan hesitated for a moment, then shyly asked, “Would you like to rest for a while? Have some tea, maybe play a game of chess?”

He blinked, looking at the man with a bit of anticipation. It wasn’t often he had visitors, and he wanted someone to keep him company…

The man studied him for a moment, then unexpectedly smiled. His voice was deep and pleasant as he said, “Alright.”

That day, they chatted, played chess, drank tea… The time passed more quickly than usual, until Rong Xuan’s father arrived.

Rong Xuan’s father, the eldest son of the Grand Preceptor and the current Minister of Rites, was usually quite stern with Rong Xuan. But in front of this man, he was uncharacteristically respectful. His gaze swept across the courtyard, and he gave Rong Xuan a rare, stern look.

Rong Xuan shrank back, realizing this man must indeed be an important guest. But the guest didn’t seem the least bit arrogant. In fact, he was witty, engaging, and easy to talk to. He had shared many interesting stories from the outside world with Rong Xuan, and no matter what Rong Xuan said, the man always responded with insight, proving that they had much in common.

For the first time, Rong Xuan had met someone he could truly connect with.

As the man prepared to leave, Rong Xuan, feeling a bit reluctant, suddenly blurted out, “Will you come back?”

After saying it, he felt nervous, avoiding his father’s gaze and turning his head away in embarrassment.

To his surprise, the man turned back and smiled, his eyes gentle. “Of course. You mentioned you couldn’t find a copy of the Hundred Mountains Scholar’s Notes. I happen to have one. I’ll bring it for you next time.”

Rong Xuan was overjoyed and nodded enthusiastically.

It had just been a casual remark during their conversation, and he hadn’t expected the man to remember it.

His father seemed a bit uneasy, as if he wanted to say something to dissuade him, but in the end, he simply said, “Xiao Gongzi is a man of high status. You must be careful not to overstep your bounds when interacting with him in the future.”

Rong Xuan wasn’t foolish. He understood that Xiao Gongzi held a distinguished position. But friendship was built on mutual connection, not on status. And besides, he had no intention of being disrespectful to his friend.

True to his word, Xiao Gongzi returned a few days later with the Hundred Mountains Scholar’s Notes, much to Rong Xuan’s delight.

Rong Xuan was over the moon, thanking him profusely like a child receiving a precious treasure.

Xiao Gongzi waved it off, saying it was a small favor, nothing to fuss over. “You can just call me Xiao Dage. Referring to me as ‘Gongzi’ feels too formal.”

Rong Xuan agreed happily, feeling that it was much more comfortable this way.

From then on, Xiao Dage visited frequently.

Every time he came, he brought with him rare books, sheet music, snacks, treats, or mechanical toys.

Xiao Dage was witty and knowledgeable. He seemed to know everything about the world, from astronomy to geography. Rong Xuan particularly enjoyed their conversations, listening to Xiao Dage talk about the vibrant, colorful world outside. It made him yearn for a life beyond the walls of his family estate.

Gradually, Xiao Dage’s visits became the highlight of Rong Xuan’s otherwise dull and monotonous life.

Xiao Dage’s presence changed his small, confined world…

Rong Xuan wasn’t sure what these feelings were, but he found himself eagerly anticipating the next time they would meet…

Anticipating Xiao Dage’s return…

This period of time was simple and filled with joy for Rong Xuan.

But good times never last, and disaster struck without warning… or perhaps there had been signs all along, but Rong Xuan had been too sheltered to notice.

It happened on a snowy night.

Rong Xuan had just fallen asleep when a sudden commotion erupted outside. The cold wind rushed in as the door was thrown open. Dazed, Rong Xuan rubbed his eyes and saw his father and older brother enter the room.

His usually composed father and kind brother were wearing expressions of unprecedented severity. The look in their eyes seemed to carry a trace of sorrow.

Though Rong Xuan rarely left the estate, he wasn’t completely ignorant. He realized something serious had happened. He immediately asked what was going on, but neither his father nor his brother answered. They simply ordered the servants to dress him and, despite his protests, prepared to send him away that very night.

Before he left, his father said only one thing: “Never come back. Never tell anyone who you are.”

In that moment, Rong Xuan understood—leaving tonight meant a final farewell.

In the past, he had always pestered his father and brother, whining and pleading to be allowed outside. But his frail health made them constantly refuse. Only after relentless begging would they finally let him out, warning him to be careful every step of the way.

But tonight, everything was rushed.

No reminders, no careful precautions. Everything was hasty and frantic.

Rong Xuan knew he was being sent away…

But he didn’t want to go. He knew he had been wrong to constantly beg to go outside. Clinging tightly to his brother’s sleeve, he cried, “I won’t go out anymore. I’ll stay home from now on, I’ll be good, I’ll listen… Please don’t send me away…”

But the brother who had always cherished him like a precious jewel slowly pried his fingers away and pushed him aside.

Rong Xuan felt utterly hopeless. He cried, “Then let’s leave together. Let’s all go together, please.”

But no one left with him.

Not even the little servant boy who had served him for many years, the timid and reserved boy who had always stayed by his side. He had changed into Rong Xuan’s clothes, smiled at him, and resolutely stayed behind.

Only Rong Xuan was sent away, forced to watch as his father and brother’s figures disappeared into the snowstorm.

The family guard holding Rong Xuan rushed through the night at breakneck speed.

Rong Xuan reached out, crying, but his hands grasped nothing but snow…

It was so cold outside, the wind biting through to his bones. The sky was dark, like a roaring ocean, crushing his world into fragments. He had always wanted to go outside, but not like this. Not now.

In the pitch-black night, there was not a single light. The Rong family estate was silent. After a brief commotion, everything went still.

The guard, covering Rong Xuan’s mouth, waited until the boy had stopped struggling before telling him to stay quiet. He would go check on the situation and return soon.

Rong Xuan nodded.

The guard left.

Rong Xuan crawled out of his hiding place. The snow was thick on the ground, freezing his fingers like needles piercing his skin. His body was so cold he could hardly feel anything, but that didn’t seem to matter. Slowly, inch by inch, he crawled back toward home…

His grandfather, his father, his brother… they were all still there…

He just wanted to be with them.

He just wanted to go back and see them, to be with the ones he loved. He didn’t want to leave alone…

He didn’t want to be alone…

But why did the road seem so long…

So long, it felt endless, filling him with despair…

His vision began to blur, and the tears freezing on his face turned into ice. Why… Why wouldn’t they let him go back…

He wanted to go home…

Just as he was about to lose consciousness, he suddenly felt himself fall into a warm embrace. Struggling to open his eyes, he saw a familiar, handsome face.

Xiao Dage looked down at him, his expression full of concern, as if he wanted to say something. But Rong Xuan couldn’t think about that now. Trembling, he reached out with the last of his strength, grabbing Xiao Dage’s sleeve, and whispered a weak plea:

“Please… take me back… please?”

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