He failed. Hit a wall. In short, he got rejected.

Actually, calling it a rejection wasn’t even accurate—throughout the entire day, His Highness the Third Prince didn’t acknowledge him at all, not even with a single word.

This was a major blow for Young Master Shen, who had always been popular and well-liked.

That evening, at the Shen residence dinner table, Shen Xuefeng sat slumped over, listlessly poking his chopsticks at the dishes, not picking up a single bite, chewing plain rice with no taste at all.

Just then, another pair of chopsticks tapped on his bowl. He looked up along their source and saw his beautiful and elegant older sister wearing a teasing expression on her face.

“What’s wrong, Shen Xuefeng? It’s only your first day at school—don’t tell me you’re already about to cry?”

Father and Mother Shen also paused their eating and looked over with amused expressions, following his sister Shen Yuhuai’s lead.

Shen Xuefeng’s lips turned downward immediately. “Why are you making fun of me, Sister…” he said sadly.

“I told you already, being the Third Prince’s study companion isn’t some cushy job.”

Shen Yuhuai snorted, then changed her tone. “But it’s not too late to back out now. I can go ask the Princess Royal to help you resign from the post. She’s currently acting in the Crown Prince’s stead—this is well within her authority.”

“I don’t want that! I want to keep going to school!” Shen Xuefeng blurted out without even thinking.

If he gave up now, wouldn’t all of this be for nothing? He, Shen Xuefeng, had worked hard for fourteen years to get to this point—all just for the opportunity to become Ji Wu’s study companion.

That’s right—Shen Xuefeng came with a mission. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have dragged himself out of bed in the freezing cold to attend school so far inside the palace.

The story was a long one, but in short: he had transmigrated. He ended up inside a game called The Great Ji Dynasty 2077, and he’d become the minor villain he himself had designed—the son of the Minister of Works, Shen Xuefeng.

The Great Ji Dynasty was prosperous, with thriving industries and talent everywhere. When Shen Xuefeng first started playing the game, he thought joining the protagonist faction was way too easy. Where was the challenge in breezing through a game with your eyes closed?

So he decided to manually increase the difficulty. He modeled a little boy after his own appearance, lowered every single one of the character’s physical stats to the minimum, and chose the longest, most difficult mission route:

Turn the future Crown Prince of the Ji Dynasty into a degenerate ruler, help him ascend the throne, and stir up political chaos to become the most powerful minister in the realm.

He hadn’t expected the bug count in the fully immersive game to outnumber the players themselves. Before he’d played for long, he blinked—and then woke up in this world. After surviving one day at a time, he had finally reached the start of the mission path he’d chosen.

Once it was complete, surely the game would auto-exit and send him home?

What he didn’t expect was just how brutally uphill this path was going to be.

First of all, Shen Xuefeng’s physical constitution was terrible—never anything serious, but always sick with something. He’d never traveled far, and even running a few steps left him red-faced and out of breath. He didn’t look like a promising villain at all.

Secondly, playing a game was one thing; real life was another. Now that he was actually living in a flourishing imperial dynasty, Shen Xuefeng had no idea how to be a villain. The only thing he had going for him was the vague plan to groom a future tyrant.

And finally—the most important point of all—who could have guessed that Ji Wu’s starting conditions were ten times worse than his?!

If Shen Xuefeng didn’t remember clearly that Ji Wu eventually did ascend to the throne, he never would have believed that this prince—hated by all—could become crown prince and inherit the empire.

Even more unbelievable: that someone like Ji Wu could grow up into a diligent and kind emperor.

Someone who endured humiliation and hardship for years just to seize power—wouldn’t he go berserk and start a bloodbath once he got the throne?

A good emperor? Not buying it. Not even in death.

Shen Xuefeng sighed. He’d been in this world for so long now, and most of his memories from his past life had already faded. He had no way of verifying whether the game’s plot would actually go the way he remembered.

“Xuefeng, don’t be upset,” the Marchioness finally spoke. “Tell your mother—if you’re so determined to take on this position, and the whole family has agreed, then what else is there to be unhappy about?”

Shen Xuefeng softly voiced his real concern: “I’m not upset, Mother. It’s just… I feel like the Third Prince isn’t a normal person.”

“Nonsense,” his father Shen Lan said with a frown. “He’s still a prince, no matter what. Xuefeng, if you must say these things, keep them inside the house. Never speak them outside of the Shen residence.”

“I won’t, but—but he won’t even talk to me,” Shen Xuefeng said miserably. “He was injured today, and I gave him medicine but he wouldn’t take it. His attitude the whole time was just… like he didn’t care about anything.”

He wasn’t afraid of Ji Wu being cruel or stupid—what he was really scared of was that Ji Wu thought life itself was meaningless!

A degenerate ruler needed to be obsessed with something—be it money, lust, or even just laziness. But Ji Wu didn’t look like someone who wanted to live at all.

After observing him all day, Shen Xuefeng concluded that Ji Wu carried an overwhelming aura of self-destruction. He had zero interest in anything, let alone ambition for power.

How could someone like that possibly want to fight for the throne? Let alone become a tyrant?

Shen Xuefeng barely ate a few bites of dinner. Soon after, he made up an excuse and went back to his room to write in his journal. He asked Bai Hua to sharpen a charcoal pencil, then began scribbling rapidly on paper.

Operation: Groom Ji Wu to Take the Throne
Consists of three steps:

1. First, turn him into a normal person with some will to live.
2. Then, cultivate some personal interests—preferably vulgar ones.
3. Finally, find a way to get him seated in the Eastern Palace as Crown Prince.

Every one of these missions looked like an impossible task. By the time Shen Xuefeng finished writing, he already felt like he could pack up and prepare for game over. His character might as well be deleted—he no longer seemed necessary at all.

Just thinking about Ji Wu being constantly humiliated in the palace gave Shen Xuefeng a headache.

That said, as soon as daylight broke, he still got out of bed full of hope, dressed neatly, and boarded the carriage to go study at the Chongwen Hall.

Today was a bright sunny day, but Shen Xuefeng still held up a parasol—he was afraid of the sun. Before stepping out, he took a deep breath, as if he had already braced himself for another day of being snubbed by the Third Prince at every turn.

Inside the school hall, Ji Wu knelt silently with his eyes downcast, just as he always did.

This was the image everyone had of him—silent, docile, and submissive. Even if he was beaten, he never had the strength or will to fight back.

It was still very early. A cool breeze swept through the open hall. Only the faint crackling of a distant brazier and the slow drip of a water clock could be heard.

Ji Wu remained motionless. He didn’t know how much time had passed when suddenly, the cheerful voices of some boys playing in the bamboo grove outside drifted into the hall.

The voices grew louder and closer, until just outside the door one of them said, “Xuefeng, don’t go in just yet. Let’s play for a little longer.”

“Yeah! The princes aren’t here yet—what’s the point of going in and just sitting around?”

Then came the voice of a hesitant boy: “I want to play too, but it’s too sunny today. I can’t stay out long.”

After a few more whispers, the school hall’s doors were pushed open. Several palace maids and eunuchs surrounded Shen Xuefeng as they entered.

Hearing the bustle, Ji Wu raised his eyelids slightly and glanced at the boy walking toward him.

Today, Shen Xuefeng wore a dark blue outer robe. A jade ornament carved with pear blossom patterns hung at his waist, swaying with his movements. A faint scent of patchouli—refreshing and pleasant—drifted toward him.

“Your Highness, you’re really early today!”

Ji Wu turned his head to see Shen Xuefeng plop down beside him. The boy blinked and smiled at him obsequiously, like a lackey.

The smile was nervous and strained, but it didn’t detract from his attractiveness.

Just yesterday, he had been scared to death—yet today he could already smile at him. It seemed he had grown a little bolder.

Immediately after, Shen Xuefeng began to revamp his study environment.

He turned to the palace maids behind him and said, “It’s this desk. Please, sisters, help me replace it.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“Also, I’m not in great health. I want a brazier too—put it in front of our desk.”

“This mat’s too hard. It’s really uncomfortable to kneel on. My knees were swollen from yesterday. Let’s replace that too.”

“……”

In less than the time it takes for a stick of incense to burn, everything around Ji Wu—from the mat to the brush and ink—was changed to fit Shen Xuefeng’s preferences. Even a brazier, which Ji Wu had never used, was now placed before them, emitting a thin mist of white smoke.

Only then did Shen Xuefeng let out a sigh of relief. Yesterday, he’d sat here for a whole day, shivering with cold, unable to see the teachers clearly due to a bad viewing angle, and constantly coughing because of the heavy scent of blood clinging to Ji Wu.

Now, everything was much better. The air was filled with fresh patchouli, making one feel refreshed and at ease.

After the palace maids removed the old desk, Shen Xuefeng turned and asked in a soft voice, “Your Highness… do you not like the new setup?”

There was a clear tone of flattery in his question.

Getting no reply, Shen Xuefeng grew anxious. With forced humility, he added, “Please don’t ignore me, Your Highness. When I said I wanted to be your study companion, you didn’t reject me.”

Ji Wu slowly turned his head and studied him.

“Why won’t you say anything, Your Highness? If you’re not satisfied, I can ask them to bring in more things,” Shen Xuefeng said cautiously.

At those words, he saw Ji Wu curl his lips ever so slightly. His cold gaze settled on Shen Xuefeng’s face, and he gave a faint, almost sinister smile.

Shen Xuefeng’s heart skipped a beat, and a chill ran down his spine.

Ji Wu stared at him. His thin lips moved, and he whispered a question:

“Why?”

This was the first time Shen Xuefeng had heard Ji Wu speak.

“Wh-what do you mean, why?”

“Study companion,” Ji Wu said, his sharp, shadowed gaze fixed on him. “Why choose me?”

Shen Xuefeng’s fingers curled tightly inside his sleeves, his palms growing damp with sweat. For a moment, he didn’t know how to respond.

This slight reaction was utterly transparent to Ji Wu.

“You’re afraid of me, yet you still chose me,” Ji Wu said slowly, savoring the fear in his voice like he’d discovered a secret. “You know who I am.”

Wait… wait… wait!

Shen Xuefeng broke into a cold sweat for real this time.

How—how had Ji Wu already guessed something when he hadn’t said a word?

“I… I…”

Suddenly, Ji Wu silently reached out and gripped his chin, as if he’d found an amusing toy. He examined Shen Xuefeng’s face closely.

Shen Xuefeng froze, unable to move. He could only widen his eyes and stare at the boy leaning in closer.

Nervously, he shut his eyes. His long lashes trembled, and the flush that had colored his cheeks a moment ago had faded into pale.

Cool fingertips traced Shen Xuefeng’s features—not in a caress, but more like someone trying to feel the texture of a strange new object.

“Afraid?”

Shen Xuefeng was trembling slightly. He nodded repeatedly, then shook his head.

Ji Huo’s fingertips were icy cold. Wherever they touched felt like a snake slithering across his skin—cool, itchy, and leaving a trail of shivers behind.

Before long, Ji Huo lost interest in Shen Xuefeng’s face. He turned his head slightly, leaning close to sniff the side of the boy’s neck.

“Young Master Shen,” Ji Huo murmured, almost to himself, as he licked one of his canine teeth, “what kind of flavor is that?”

Shen Xuefeng quickly shut his eyes and blurted out in a rush, “You can’t eat me! I still have to be His Highness’s study companion!”

Having completed his inspection, Ji Huo lost interest and let go lazily, slumping back into his seat. “I don’t eat children.”

Shen Xuefeng let out a breath of relief, clutching his wildly beating heart to calm himself.

No wonder he’s the main character in the game—his aura really is different. Even though Shen Xuefeng knew Ji Huo, with his current status and power, couldn’t really do anything to him, he still felt a lingering fear deep in his heart.

After that, Ji Huo lost interest in him and didn’t speak to him again.

Soon, everyone at the academy had arrived. Aside from the usual classics being taught, there were a few additional classes on political essays today. Shen Xuefeng opened his book bag and laid out his usual stationery neatly on the desk.

He was focused during the first few classes. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Ji Huo sitting bolt upright beside him, the same as always—not flipping through any books, not answering any questions, not even moving when homework was collected. The student aide seemed to have a tacit understanding with him and deliberately skipped over Ji Huo.

He was like an outcast excluded from the world. No one seemed to care whether he was actually listening to class or not.

Shen Xuefeng felt uneasy about it, but he was also afraid of Ji Huo and didn’t dare speak to him.

As his attention drifted during class, his mind began to wander. By the time Minister of Works Shen Lan stepped up to the lectern, the warmth from the brazier had already made Shen Xuefeng drowsy.

“For stone-hook balustrades, each segment is flanked by cloud brackets and Shu pillars, made in halves, and joined segment by segment…”

Shen Xuefeng rested his chin on one hand, his eyelids half-closed.

“The walking staff measures one inch and eight fen in width, and one inch and six fen in thickness…”

“….” He was about to fall asleep.

“The inner Shu pillars are three inches and four fen wide, thickness as above… Shen Xuefeng!”

“Ah—ah! I’m here!”

The entire classroom fell silent in an instant.

Everyone turned in unison to look at the two boys in the corner. Thanks to him, Ji Huo received more attention than he ever had before.

Startled awake by the teacher’s shout, Shen Xuefeng scrambled to his feet. Before he could even speak, he heard Shen Lan’s stern voice from the front of the class.

“Shen Xuefeng, answer the question—how are chi stones constructed?”

“Chi stones…”

Shen Xuefeng hadn’t been paying attention at all. How could he possibly know?

Perhaps because he had just woken up, he mustered up a bit of courage and, out of sight from the others, gave Ji Huo’s sleeve a discreet tug.

He hadn’t been listening, but Ji Huo surely had. They were sitting so close—Ji Huo could easily whisper the answer to him.

But even after waiting a while, Ji Huo gave no hint at all.

Shen Xuefeng hesitated, then gave the sleeve another gentle tug.

This time, Ji Huo finally responded.

He looked at the boy beside him, and slowly mouthed something with teasing lips: “I don’t know.”

Shen Xuefeng’s eyes widened. Just as he was about to say something, he heard Shen Lan snap,

“Not only do you not pay attention in class, you even try to cheat off others! You’ll copy this entire lesson ten times and hand it in to me tomorrow. Understood?”

Shen Xuefeng closed his eyes and muttered, “Got it, Da— I mean, Teacher.”

Shen Lan looked at him with both disappointment and frustration. “Sit down.”