Chapter 78: The Crown Prince

Su Lin was holding a pancake, rolling it with roast duck, scallion threads, and cucumber, dipping it in sauce, and putting it into his mouth.

Inside his down jacket, a thin string held a loop of golden hair, emitting a faint glow.

In an instant, energy invisible to the naked eye rippled outward like waves on water, and the surrounding world flickered like an old television, breaking into frame after frame.

[Leoni’s Hair Strand] was activated.

Su Lin wasn’t flustered; he kept chewing the roast duck, comparing it to the roadside ducks priced at a few dozen yuan each.

The skin was crispier, the meat more tender—everything else seemed no different.

After all, it wasn’t his true body; he still had a divine core inside. What was there to fear?

After a dozen seconds, a thud echoed as two figures collapsed in the distance.

They were the two half-breeds who had trailed him all day.

A young boy in a black evening suit, white cravat stuffed in his chest, and a trendy ceramic collar walked gracefully to Su Lin’s table, pulled out a bench, and sat down.

“Surprising.”

Lu Mingze tried to pull Su Lin into the spiritual realm but sensed resistance. He could still force him in, but that would be impolite.

“Want some?”

Su Lin gestured.

“No.”

“Has your brother finished his business?” Su Lin asked, pulling from history a glass of red wine he’d seen at the Wu family banquet.

“Dragon blood ascension is at a critical stage—that’s why I had time to leave,” Lu Mingze said, taking the wine and sipping lightly.

“To be honest, he isn’t really my brother.”

Su Lin was surprised—he hadn’t expected Lu Mingze to say that.

“He’s just a poor fool who took the wrong path at the crossroads of fate.”

Lu Mingze swirled his wineglass, watching the red liquid through the light, his golden vertical pupils radiating authority incongruous with his small frame.

“You say that and he’ll cry.”

Su Lin wiped his fingers with a napkin, curious. “Why are you here?”

He’d initially thought it was another trouble from Lu Mingfei—project done, client demanding changes was rude.

Unless extra money was involved.

“I need your help. Of course, there’s a reward.”

“Oh?”

So he was a new client.

Su Lin pulled from history a lavish banquet—the dishes Zhongli had ordered at “Chunyu Xuan”—and added a vintage phonograph, placing a black vinyl of the Carmen Fantasy on it.

He summoned a historical projection of himself in a suit from a campus recruitment fair, and had it clumsily pour two glasses of 1997 Malbec.

“Go on.”

—————————————————

The lights in the watertight compartment had all gone out. Unlike the earlier high temperatures, the submersible had now left the lava-ridden zone; due to the cold, the electrical systems had shut down.

Chu Zihang and Caesar had entered a realm where reality and illusion merged; their expressions were serene, lips curled in faint smiles, as if they’d witnessed something profoundly beautiful.

The ancient dragon script’s chant had drawn them into this blissful illusion.

But in Lu Mingfei’s ears, there was no sound from antiquity.

He only felt countless giant earthworms writhing beneath the ruins in the 8,000-meter-deep sea—their rolling sounds, combined with the dark surroundings, raised every hair on his body.

“Lu Mingze?”

Lu Mingfei whispered. According to protocol, Lu Mingze should appear now.

“Guest, did you call me?”

A pair of nimble hands suddenly pressed on his shoulders, vigorously massaging his shoulder well acupoint.

Lu Mingfei relaxed slightly, temporarily abandoning the idea of using the cross-realm talisman—he knew this was an illusion, and the real Lu Mingze was watching from the side.

“Rare indeed—you actually rang the bell yourself. I’d love to give you a full massage today,” Lu Mingze said, kneading Lu Mingfei’s cervical vertebrae with professional skill, easing the stiffness from years of gaming hunched over a desk.

“But sadly, opportunities like this are few.”

Lu Mingze wrapped his arms around Lu Mingfei’s neck from behind, pressing his face against Lu Mingfei’s and rubbing.

“Hey, hey, hey—what are you doing?”

Lu Mingfei shuddered, breaking out in goosebumps. He hadn’t expected this fake little devil to break script—where were the lines? Stick to the script!

“This useless waste is so much better—a soul easy to control. Hmm, this half-resistance, half-acceptance look.”

No sooner had he spoken than, as if disturbed, he snapped his fingers toward the window, scowling.

“Leave!”

The rustling, earthworm-like rolling sounds instantly froze, then retreated in another direction, fading into silence.

“Alright, time’s short, brother.”

Lu Mingfei finally turned to look at the little devil behind him. He felt this illusion had changed too much from the book’s description—and just now, Lu Mingze’s scent had made him feel like he was home.

“I’m not an illusion.”

Lu Mingze wore a red Chinese-style tunic today, adorned with a black dragon coiling and soaring—the colors clashed terribly. Around his waist hung a jade pendant, dark green as ink, of exquisite quality.

“Are you celebrating the New Year?!”

Lu Mingfei stared, astonished—this Lu Mingze bore no resemblance to the book’s description.

“I just went to Beijing and had some roast duck with your friends at Quanjude.”

Which of my friends is in Beijing? Lu Mingfei was about to ask.

“When you go somewhere, you follow local customs, don’t you?”

“Ten!” Caesar’s voice cut through their conversation—the compartment’s temperature spiked abruptly: Chu Zihang’s Junyan was about to activate.

“Fascinating,” Lu Mingze murmured. “Your friends are all madmen, brother—they not only resist the music of Gao Tian Yuan, but plan to destroy this ancient dragon capital along with themselves.”

“Oh, I forgot—that’s a pirated line.”

Seeing Lu Mingfei’s displeased expression, Lu Mingze smiled and snapped his fingers—everything fell silent.

Time froze at that moment.

“Of course, Su Lin is the exception—he’s like a panda, only interested in basking in the sun, eating, and having fun.”

“You went to find Su Lin?” Lu Mingfei now believed this Lu Mingze was real—but he hadn’t expected him to seek out Su Lin.

“Alright, consider this a free service,” Lu Mingze said with a smile. “Brother, I have a question for you.”

“What?”

Lu Mingfei was baffled—his mind was full of questions: How was Lu Mingze connected to Su Lin? And why had Su Lin flown back just to eat roast duck?

“Would you accept a king who has conquered a realm for you, and has already arranged for you, the Crown Prince, a harem of thirty-six palaces and seventy-two concubines?”

“??? What are you talking about?”

Lu Mingze pulled out four photographs, each showing a beautiful girl he knew.

“Su Xiaoqiang, Chen Motong, Uesugi Hiyori, and our beloved Renata—also known as Zero.”

“They will each govern the Eastern Palace, Western Palace, Northern Palace, and Southern Palace.”

Lu Mingfei swallowed hard, utterly lost—this riddler was speaking nonsense.

Then his expression hardened, and he snapped:

“Demon! Don’t disrupt my Dao heart!”

It’s definitely an illusion!