After buying the umbrella, Shen Xuefeng felt a bit thirsty, so he and Bai Hua stepped into a restaurant.

“Young master, there are many people here with all kinds of eyes watching. How about we take a private room instead?”

Shen Xuefeng thought it was unnecessary trouble. “We’re just having a few sips of tea. It’s fine.”

As soon as they entered, many eyes landed on Shen Xuefeng’s face, but he was completely unaware. He found a corner to sit down, drinking tea while listening to a servant in the hall telling a story.

The story was roughly about a wayward monk who indulged in eating, drinking, and gambling everywhere, only to be punished by the gods in the end.

Shen Xuefeng listened intently, while Bai Hua stood nearby, vigilantly watching those who sneaked glances at their young master.

As the story went on, the servant’s voice grew quieter, and the crowd became noisy. Suddenly, the sharp sound of breaking porcelain rang in their ears. Bai Hua reacted swiftly and shielded his young master.

“I’m doing you a favor by liking you—don’t be ungrateful!”

In the center of the hall, a richly dressed young man fiercely grabbed a boy wearing an indigo short jacket. The boy had silver ornaments decorating his forehead and ears, and was surrounded by people dressed similarly, who all stepped forward, calling him “Master!”

This place was a gathering spot for all sorts of people, including many foreigners. For example, this group in front came from Nanzhao, which Shen Xuefeng secretly recognized.

The boy called “Master” waved his hand, signaling them not to rush, and asked the richly dressed young man, “Let go. Do you know who I am?”

“I don’t care who you are! Do you know who I am?” The richly dressed man sneered. “Look at you—no idea which small border state you crawled out of. My father is the famous loyal and martial General Li Chang. If you know what’s good for you, obey and stop putting on airs here!”

Hearing this, Shen Xuefeng made a sound of realization.

General Li Chang’s son, Li Shiliang, seemed like a drunken fool who hadn’t studied much. It made sense he wouldn’t recognize people from Nanzhao. But his father was a troublesome character in the game, often switching loyalties between the eldest and fourth princes.

By the time Shen Xuefeng looked again, the guards of the Li household and the Nanzhao delegation were already fighting each other, plunging the restaurant into chaos.

“Young master, we should leave first.”

Shen Xuefeng quickly nodded. Just then, three arrows flew across, heading straight for the two of them. Bai Hua quickly grabbed the young master and dodged. It turned out Li Shiliang had ordered his guards to attack the Nanzhao delegation, and many civilians were accidentally wounded in the fray.

This guy was unbelievably reckless. Even if his father had a hundred lives, he wouldn’t be able to stop him from causing trouble like this.

The Nanzhao delegation was not to be taken lightly either. In an instant, a strange floral scent wafted through the air, and countless insects erupted from the sleeves of their members.

This was a battle between magical and physical attacks.

In his past life, Shen Xuefeng was afraid of insects. Now, suddenly seeing plump, pale bugs swarming in the sky, his face went pale and his body weakened.

“Don’t look.”

At that moment, a breeze brushed past, and Shen Xuefeng’s vision went black. He saw a black-veil-covered hood drop over his head.

Ji Wu had appeared without anyone noticing. Expressionless, she glanced at Li Shiliang not far away, lightly raised her hand in what seemed like a casual gesture, then turned back and said, “Let’s go.”

Before the three could step outside the door, frantic shouting came from behind.

“Young master! Young master, what’s wrong? Why are you bleeding so much suddenly?”

“Quick, hurry to the nearest medical clinic!”

Shen Xuefeng stepped out of the restaurant and immediately took off the veil, feeling pleasantly surprised. “Your Highness, you really came out to find me.”

Today, Ji Wu wore a set of dark clothes—simple but practical—with slightly unusual bronze-colored bracers over the straightforward arrow sleeves. His outfit was different from his usual palace attire. His black hair was simply tied up. Although his aura remained gloomy, it didn’t affect his handsomeness in the slightest.

He squinted his eyes. “Don’t call me ‘Your Highness’ outside.”

“Oh, then how should I address you… sir?”

Ji Wu stared at him for a moment. “My given name is Tuan.”

“All right, all right,” Shen Xuefeng hurriedly said, afraid of offending him. “I’ll remember.”

Bai Hua obediently held up the umbrella, sheltering the two of them silently as he followed behind.

In his heart, Shen Xuefeng praised the “Dragon Overlord” protagonist Ji Wu. Despite the protagonist’s hellish start, he really was something—when he said he would leave the palace, he actually did.

Since he hadn’t been to school for a long time, Shen Xuefeng had many things to ask. He chatted nonstop all the way, asking lots of questions. Bai Hua followed behind nervously, afraid the Third Prince would grow impatient and speak harshly to his young master. But unexpectedly, Ji Wu was quite patient. Although he didn’t say much, he didn’t leave Shen Xuefeng talking to himself either.

Shen Xuefeng wanted to build more rapport with the Dragon Overlord protagonist and casually check in on his recent life. So he took the initiative and suggested, “Tuan… brother Tuan, do you have some time later? I want to invite you for some sweet soup.”

Ji Wu didn’t say whether he agreed or not, but said, “You should go back to the mansion now.”

Well, that was a clear refusal.

Shen Xuefeng felt that after such a long time apart, they seemed a bit distant again. He wanted to get closer but feared he might come off as too obsequious.

The two of them walked along the alleys back to the gate of the Shen residence. Ji Wu crossed his arms and stopped, glancing at the imposing and luxurious plaque above the Shen family’s gate.

Shen Xuefeng felt their meeting was a bit rushed—just as they started talking, it was ending. He sighed quietly to himself. “Your Highness, the emperor’s birthday banquet is the day after tomorrow… will you be attending?”

Ji Wu nodded.

Shen Xuefeng breathed a sigh of relief. He greeted Bai Hua in the distance, took a piece of pastry from Bai Hua’s many bags, and nervously handed it to Ji Wu. “Please accept this, Your Highness. Our family really loves this—it’s delicious!”

“Thank you,” Ji Wu took it, a complex emotion flashing briefly in his eyes. “See you the day after tomorrow.”

“See you the day after tomorrow, Your Highness!”

The young master Shen happily returned.

Once he left, Ji Wu’s face immediately darkened like still water. He stepped out from the alley where the Shen residence was located and walked into a vacant, sparsely populated small alley, where he finally stopped.

“Get out.”

From Ji Wu’s sleeve slid out a thin blade. His tone was harsh: “You disturbed my meeting with him.”

A strange fragrance wafted through the air, and suddenly, at the end of the alley, a youth in blue appeared—it was the Nanzhao envoy from earlier at the restaurant.

The youth looked at the blade in Ji Wu’s hand and happily stepped forward. “My lifesaver, it really is you! What kind of martial art is this that’s so powerful? Just now I—”

Before he finished speaking, he anxiously crouched down, holding his head. The thin blade quickly flew above his head and sliced off a section of his braided hair.

“Don’t kill me, don’t kill me! I really didn’t mean to harm you or that young master from before…”

The youth knew he had angered the other party and fearfully stepped back to put some distance between himself and Ji Wu. This man was too terrifying; whenever he made a move, it was a killing strike, never sparing anyone.

The blue-clothed youth also recalled the blade that had pierced Li Shiliang’s heart—so precise and ruthless—that cold sweat broke out on his back.

“Please don’t kill me! I’ve been following you for so long just because I wanted to get to know you. That young master from before is from the Shen residence, right? If you are someone from the court, you definitely can’t kill me.”

“You disturbed my meeting with him,” Ji Wu said as he drew a flexible sword from his belt. The white light was sharp and cold, aimed at the blue youth’s head. “If it weren’t for you—”

The blue youth immediately shut his eyes and cried out, “Don’t kill me, don’t kill me! I am Yin Lan, the Seventh Prince of Nanzhao!”

With a “clang,” the sword accurately stopped just above his braided hair.