Chapter 406: Who would have thought? Even in another world there's a thesis defense

As for the royal offspring who fail the test, there's no need to worry, because the former king who established this rule was merciful; he understands they are still young, not yet prepared, and unaware of the world's dangers.

So at age twenty-five they get a retest; although the reward after passing is surely not as great as that of a one-time pass hardcore, they ultimately have land in hand and are untroubled, able to leave something for their descendants and continue to mingle in noble circles.

So what if they still fail the retest—what should be done?

Of course……

Sorry, there's no remedial here.

Since it can't be cured, please just wait to die; the royal treasury still has many mouths to feed, and we really can't support idlers.

Although it sounds harsh, in fact, given the excellent educational conditions already provided, if one still manages to miss both chances… basically there's no hope.

Those who exhaust all opportunities can only retain the prince/princess title for life, receive a stipend with a fixed upper limit, and cannot pass on welfare to their children after death.

In other words, if they lack the opportunity of not bullying the poor middle-aged, they can only hope their family produces someone like Xiao Yan who brings honor, so as not to be kicked out of noble circles by others.

Therefore, the reason Ailinuo was summoned by Tenisi to Sunshine City to suffer is actually to use a successful internship to add two entries to her résumé, giving her more confidence during her thesis defense later.

After all, opportunities are always for the prepared; the king's promise is just a promise—even if she is smoothly made a princess, if she later takes over the fief and mismanages the land causing trouble, others can find ten thousand legitimate reasons to reduce her fief.

At least if she truly becomes a princess, don't let passersby sneer, 'What a waste—she's just a piece of tissue paper the royal family uses to save face, bought with her parents' lives.'

That would be too heartbreaking.

Prince Philip and Princess Fiya actually have a similar purpose: the brother who has passed the tests for several years brings his beloved little sister out for training, traveling incognito across the kingdom to see and learn.

Originally they wanted to leave a good reputation, gain some experience, see the world, and make a final push before the May assessment begins—but who knew they'd be dug up in such a small place called Withered Wood.

Thus Prince Philip's face turned dark; he dislikes the feeling of this situation being beyond his control.

But his little sister is present; he just taught her this afternoon to stay calm in change, the broad-minded life principle, and now he must set a good example.

So he couldn't say anything else, only able to tremble at the corners of his mouth.

"So it's to capture the Pioneers who caused a ruckus at the Mage Tower? Even this late you personally lead the team, Viscount Sir—you truly are a diligent noble role model."

"Haha, you flatter me; it's just a small sense of responsibility. I actually always regard the Prince as my role model—when the people are in trouble, I naturally act this way!"

Skillfully using his own head as a stepping stone to flatter the Prince, the Viscount, who has spent years fighting in the world of fame and profit, then turned the topic to Princess Fiya.

"Moreover, I see the Lady Princess has wise eyes, proper bearing, restrained conduct, naturally possessing an air of scholarship—clearly my saying the Prince is a good role model is not false."

Ancient wisdom: a skilled sycophant often uses a skilled approach.

Since seeing one's father calls for praising the son, seeing one's grandfather calls for praising the grandson, then seeing Philip, who is famously a sister-complex, one must certainly talk about Fiya.

Thus, under the Viscount's smart round of boasting, although Philip's eyes didn't relax, at least the corners of his mouth finally dared to show a bit of a smile.

"Viscount Sir, why be so modest? It's we two who came to your territory without first informing you, the landlord—that was our rashness."

The kingdom's heartland differs from those remote regions; here the nobles, big or small, must each have their own ecological niche.

In other words, you need to have something to do; without it, who will bring you to mix in the circles?

Considering that even such a small viscounty can support a top-tier hotel capable of establishing royal suites, the Withered Wood Viscount's specialty is naturally "high-end tourism."

So seeing a possibility of easing the situation, perhaps due to path dependence, the Viscount warmly invited the siblings to the genuine top-tier hotel in Withered Wood City, which is his castle where they would stay.

Well, money, fine wine, delicacies, music, women… Speaking of which, does Princess Fiya need a handsome young man to accompany her? I think I… ah, forget it.

In short, he has already prepared a full set of cards; surely tonight he will make the Philip siblings look at him with new eyes.

Who knows, he might even turn a bad thing into a good one and climb up that high branch!

But honestly, Philip actually doesn't want to go.

It's not that he dislikes these things; rather, a mature person must learn restraint—there's no free lunch in this world.

As a prince, as one who aspires to climb higher as a ruler, he must learn to cherish his feathers.

But upon second thought, this Viscount is a well-known 'comfortable viscount grandpa'; although his territory and strength aren't strong, relying on his subordinates' various entertainment businesses and near-zero aggressiveness, his circle of friends and trading network is not small.

As Fiya's royal brother, emotionally and rationally, pulling her along is definitely beneficial; but as a prince, in many places he must learn to avoid suspicion, and it's not convenient for him to appear personally.

This Withered Wood Viscount is indeed a head of average size; if he were to handle a couple of things on my behalf, he could probably save Fiya a lot of trouble.

After all, this May's……

Although but, I must strive for Fiya!

So Prince Philip reluctantly agreed to the Viscount's request and followed him down to the hotel's lower floor.

However, just as they reached the corner of the stairs leading to the first floor, they suddenly saw a person in white clothes walking in from the main door from afar.

The innkeeper is naturally no ordinary person; in fact he is the Viscount's brother-in-law, and at this moment he is still flipping accounts at the counter, thinking about how much money to give his sister-in-law today.

Seeing an ordinary-clothed stranger walk in, he, already agitated from impending major expenses, slammed the table and angrily ordered the servants to kick him out at once.

The Viscount, seeing the situation, flashed a sharp glint in his eyes and waved his hand widely.

"Hey, wait a moment!"

Blocking the already-sleeved-up brawny fellows who claimed to be servants but were actually enforcers, he approached that person and examined him up and down.

Black hair, brown eyes, yellow skin—this should be a so-called Eastern person, a group many among the Pioneers, but an ethnic outsider existing only within that collective.

He nodded with a strange expression and gave a hehe laugh.

"May I ask, young sir, are you working for which noble adult?"

That person shook his head.

"Or have you received an invitation, preparing to visit which noble adult?"

That person still shook his head.

"Oh, then I can rest easy."

The Withered Wood Viscount slowly stepped back a few paces, his face suddenly changing.

"Seize him! This is the madman who attacked the Mage Tower at dusk—capture him for me, Viscount!"

This isn't the Viscount being rash; rather, he knows the Pioneers' highest level is no more than about thirty.

Although his knightly retinue isn't considered a strong army in this place full of big shots, shoulder to shoulder they can still easily take on one opponent.

And just as said before, the Mage Tower matter must have an explanation, must have a suitable head to take the blame.

This concerns the face of the Withered Wood Viscount, and also whether the Withered Wood family has the right to survive on this land; this unlucky Easterner just happened to step into the line of fire.

At that very moment, a brilliant idea rose in the Withered Wood Viscount's mind—an idea that could achieve two goals at once.

—Who said this Easterner before us only attacked the mage tower?

Could it be that their attack on the mage tower was merely to divert attention, and their true aim was actually to assassinate Prince Philip?

So my misfortune today is to help Prince Philip avert disaster; it is our Withered Wood family, using our own interests to protect Prince Philip!

Loyalty! Faith!

But just as he was frantically drafting the script in his heart, a song of loyalty had already moved him to the brink of tears; he discovered that, as if only the first act had begun, the play had already gone off the rails.

Because his knights were no match for that Easterner; a dozen or so men charged forward but couldn't even grab the hem of his clothes.

Even more embarrassing, that person never lifted a finger, merely dodging left and right with bare hands, slipping through their fully armed encirclement again and again like a loach.

This is truly a case of trying to show off and ending up foolish; the Withered Wood Viscount hastily sent his brother-in-law to rally troops at the camp, for any further delay would bring utter humiliation.

And behind the crowd, Prince Philip had already closed his eyes in some pain.

Good heavens, is it that I clash with the Withered Wood Viscount's fate? Why has nothing gone smoothly from the start?

But just as he was about to step in himself to end this farce, Fiya beside him whispered.

"Brother King, this fellow's movement seems a bit strange; do you think it's elven?"

Huh?

Philip took a closer look and found it indeed was.

And the reason he didn't notice it wasn't because he was unlearned, but because that person's movement resembled, yet was not exactly like.

Thus there are only two possibilities: either he's untrained, having learned only a superficial trick—but considering he could toy with a dozen men, there is only the other possibility.

"Ha!"

Philip laughed excitedly, as if he had discovered some treasure, straightened his attire, took a step forward, and spoke loudly.

"The Chosen One's movement is indeed exquisite, but to toy with these country knights using the heritage of the Holy Nine Clans is perhaps a bit too bullying, isn't it?"

Upon hearing this, the Easterner leapt onto the chandelier in a posture that could make Newton furious enough to start a second life in another world.

"Whoa, as expected of Prince Philip, I knew my little trick wouldn't escape your eyes."

After finishing a round of mutual flattery, Ji Ming put on the halo that could explain everything on his head, and simultaneously dispelled the disguise on his face and charm.

His landing spot happened to be right in front of the Withered Wood Viscount, who stared at his sweaty, chubby, astonished face as he raised an eyebrow.

"Seeing the viscount's kind face, I couldn't resist helping you train your troops—do you mind?"

The viscount finally realized: this Easterner is neither a noble's dog nor a noble's guest; he is a noble himself, and may well become a great noble in the future!

He hastily bowed his head in salute.

"No problem, no problem, certainly no problem!"

The knights, who had already been played until they were fuming, hastily stowed their waist swords, stool legs, and whatever else behind their backs and joined in the flattery.

"The Chosen One is superb in martial arts; we have lost!"

Having traveled throughout the Hui Guang Kingdom, Ji Ming had continually inquired about the Royal Capital, especially concerning the true masters of the kingdom, so he naturally knew this Prince Philip.

Since only sufficiently strong offspring can pass the trial to become prince/princess, the so-called heir, namely the one bearing the 【Light Crown】 title, would naturally be selected from among them.

In principle, to avoid the tragedy of nine sons vying for the throne, the Light Crown prince would be granted a fief early on, and in eighty percent of cases would fall to the first one who passes the test.

But the current Sun King's lifespan is truly too long—longer than that of the queen on Earth; her line at least continues, whereas here the eldest son who had been crown prince his whole life was literally worked to death.

Thus, last October, the Light Crown passed away; the king grieved deeply, and the court and populace were shaken—this was a major event for the Hui Guang Kingdom.

Not to mention Lingxi, who has friends all over the world for business; even the Shen Lin Wang Guo sent a condolence letter.

But it wasn't just his old man suffering to outlast this old fellow; he also has seven siblings who have already become princes/princesses.

Having finally obtained a chance to rise, they could no longer hold back; they all began to mobilize connections, preparing to go even further atop the hundred-foot pole.

—Strive for a hundred days, and I will become the second-generation Light Crown!

Sun King: However, I refuse.

I don't know what madness has possessed this old brat; the court officials, all the aunts and uncles, keep urging and pressing him, yet he simply cannot settle on a suitable candidate.

Looking over the resumes of these seven children, either they are too old—perhaps the coronation ceremony would excite them to death—or their aura is too overwhelming, estimating that once they take the stage they would drag everyone into a battle with the Deep Forest legion.

Anyway, this won't work, that won't work—the phone's about to run out of battery, and I'm still stewing the cooking wine my mother asked me to buy; let's talk later.

But while the old king dares to delay, the nobles dare not, for those versed in the classic power‑games know that aligning oneself is more important than taking action.

If you pick the right side, good—you're set for life; if you pick the wrong side, good—just try again in the next life.

In the days of the old Light Crown, everyone simply focused on supporting him and that was enough; now, with no one backing the Sun King, rumors fly all day long, making it seem as if anyone could be the choice.

No choice; everyone can only put themselves in the game—let's gamble!

One of the strongest contenders among them is Philip, for his fief lies near the northern coast, fertile for both farming and trade, essentially a giant money‑printing machine.

With money, grain, status, and a circle of friends, even if he loses the royal election he can still regain his footing, hard to topple completely; thus those who side with him won't be purged too severely—at worst losing a couple pawns, no big loss.

And this is also why Ji Ming would take the initiative to show off a bit in front of him.

He might well be the future Sun King; with a long road ahead, leaving a good impression early won't hurt.

(End of chapter)