If his identity as the Mysterious Benefactor had been revealed before the Emperor’s Heaven-Sacrifice, it would have shaken all of Eastlyn. But now, exposed only after the ceremony, the news carries far less weight—like tossing a stone into a lake: there are ripples, but they quickly fade. Yet he... must bear the reputation of a great benefactor, carry the expectations of Eastlyn’s people, and for the rest of his days act as one who does good but cannot claim credit.
If he were dead, it wouldn’t matter what the Emperor said; once the coffin was closed, however many virtues were piled onto him, he could bear it. But alive—alive and breathing—he’s forced by these people to lose himself, to become the great benefactor they all speak of.
As long as Felix Fuller is alive, he must act the part of a good man every single day—never doing anything that might disappoint the world.
It must be said, Ninth Royal Uncle’s counterattack was masterful; he’s bound Felix tight, shaped his public image, and left him no room to maneuver.
Heh... Felix lets out a bitter laugh.
No matter how capable or talented he is, in the eyes of the Emperor he’s just a chess piece—one to be used to the fullest. The Emperor is only willing to use him because he’s useful.
What’s done is done. He’s already a piece on the board, and no matter how dissatisfied he is, he lacks the power to change it.
Felix closes his eyes, leaning back in the carriage to rest. Before long, the driver calls out, “Young master, we’ve arrived at Feng Manor.”
After leaving the Imperial Palace, Felix’s first thought was to seek out Serena Feng. In this Capital, she’s the only person he truly knows—and besides, right now, she needs him.
He’d already sent his visiting card ahead, so Serena was waiting for him. As soon as Felix arrived, she came out to greet him personally: “Master Fuller, your visit honors us; I regret I wasn’t able to welcome you properly. Please forgive my rudeness.”
If his identity as the Mysterious Benefactor had been revealed before the Emperor's Heaven-Sacrifice, it would have shaken all of Eastlyn. But after the Emperor's ritual, news that he was the one behind the disaster relief is just a small ripple—like tossing a stone into a lake: it stirs the surface, but soon everything is calm again. Yet he... must now shoulder the name of a great benefactor, bear the hopes of the Eastlyn people. From now on, he must live as a man who does good deeds but cannot claim them as his own.
If he dies, the Emperor can say whatever he wants, heap praise and virtues upon his coffin, and Felix could bear it all. But living—truly, painfully alive—he is forced by these people to lose himself, to become the great benefactor in their mouths.
As long as he lives, every day he must act the part of a good man, never allowing himself a single act that might disappoint the people of the realm.
He couldn’t help but admit—Ninth Royal Uncle’s counterattack was beautiful. It bound him tightly, defined his role, and left him with no room to maneuver.
Heh... Felix let out a bitter laugh.
No matter how talented or capable he was, in the eyes of the Emperor he was always just a chess piece. Chess pieces must be used to their fullest, and the Emperor only valued him for his usefulness.
The matter was already decided; he was now just a piece on the board, powerless to change anything no matter how dissatisfied he felt.
Felix closed his eyes, leaning back in the carriage to gather his thoughts. Soon, the driver called out, “Sir, we've arrived at Feng Manor.”
Leaving the palace, the first person Felix wanted to see was Serena. In this capital, she was the only one he truly knew—and right now, she needed him.
He had already sent his visiting card ahead, and Serena had been waiting for him. As soon as Felix arrived, she personally greeted him: “Sir Felix, your arrival honors us. I apologize for not welcoming you sooner.”
Serena’s courtesy was tinged with distance. She did not speak harshly to Felix, nor did she show anger or resentment. Felix had indeed used her, helping the Emperor ruin Ninth Royal Uncle’s plan—but so what? Felix was never hers to command. She had no right to blame him; if fault existed, it was her own for being naïve.
“Serena... are you really going to pretend you don’t know me?” Felix had intended to call her ‘Miss Feng,’ but found he couldn’t bear to treat her as a stranger.
Standing in Felix’s position, he did not believe he had done anything wrong. He hadn’t harmed Serena; at most, he had cost Ninth Royal Uncle some advantage, but that loss was minor and quickly countered. There was no real conflict between them.
Serena smiled faintly, her words both recognizing Felix and keeping him at arm’s length: “I’ll never forget the Felix who braved the fire-sea with me, fighting back-to-back. That’s the man I know—the one with schemes but true loyalty. The Felix now basking in the Capital’s favor is someone else, someone unfamiliar.”
“Serena, there’s no conflict of interest between us. I’m still the same Felix.” He picked up the cup of tea she offered, taking a sip and letting its fragrance linger.
Felix raised his eyebrows, surprised. He’d heard Serena disliked tea, and that the manor’s tea was notoriously bad. Yet this cup was unexpectedly pleasant—rumors truly do mislead.
Few people ever taste the tea at Feng Manor. For someone like Felix, the manor treats him as an honored guest, with every courtesy extended.
“No, you’ve always been Felix. It was I who failed to see clearly before.” Serena used the act of drinking tea to mask her emotions.
First she sent Holden Cui away, then persuaded Sean Xuan to return to Skyvault Palace Sect, and now she was arranging her parents’ funeral—yet she still hadn’t chosen a burial site.
Yesterday, the Crown Prince sent word that the snow had stopped, and her contest with Su Rou would take place in the next day or two. She had no choice but to prepare.
She refused to hate Felix, but she would never trust him again.
Felix realized Serena knew his true identity, and that soon others would know as well. In this fractured realm, even if the Eastlyn Emperor wished to shield him, he lacked the strength to keep such secrets forever. Felix now understood: he must build his own means of protection and power.
“Serena, you know my identity now?" Felix was half-convinced the Emperor’s secrecy couldn’t last—he could hear in Serena’s tone that she understood. Soon, the other three realms’ emperors would know too.
This Nine Provinces Realm is deep water; he didn’t know how far he’d stepped in, but he’d certainly stirred up the pond.
“So, what brings you here today?” Serena smiled, seeing Felix had little loyalty to the Emperor, and invited him to state his purpose.
Felix had come specifically to help Serena, not to add to her troubles.
Serena half-joked, "Now that you're so coveted, Felix, I'm honored to have you as a guest—but truly, I'm too busy to entertain."
Felix, amused and slightly stung, remarked, "You're being insincere, but I still prefer your straightforwardness over the masked courtiers of the Capital."
Felix then revealed his true purpose: as a descendant of the Divine Temple’s Fuller clan, he was deeply versed not only in astral calculations but also in terrain and burial geomancy. He offered to help Serena choose a true feng shui treasure land for her parents’ burial.
Serena, though modern and skeptical of mystical talk, understood the practical importance of soil and location. She wanted a stable, undisturbed site—one safe from grave robbers, not just for her parents but for future Feng descendants.
Felix, discarding charlatan rhetoric, explained frankly that so-called feng shui treasure lands are, in essence, places with particular soil composition and terrain that better preserve coffins and remains and are harder for tomb-thieves to operate in.
Serena, a clever woman, understood Felix was trying to win favor, but she still hesitated.
She asked, "Is there ever a free lunch in this world?" hinting at suspicion about Felix's motives.
Felix smiled and prepared to name his terms: "I hope..."
Serena weighed whether collaborating with the now-famous Felix Fuller could help her future struggles, all while keeping her emotional distance.
She was determined to choose a good burial site for her parents, one where their remains wouldn’t be disturbed. She couldn't bear the thought of their bones being dug up again. The geomancers she'd consulted these days were all full of jargon and nonsense, offering unsuitable places.
Speaking with a clever person was always easier. Felix was about to state his request directly: "I hope..."
Yesterday, the Crown Prince sent word that the snow had stopped, and her contest with Su Rou would take place in the next day or two. She had no choice but to prepare.
She refused to hate Felix, but she would never trust him again.
Felix realized Serena knew his true identity, and that soon others would know as well. In this fractured realm, even if the Eastlyn Emperor wished to shield him, he lacked the strength to keep such secrets forever. Felix now understood: he must build his own means of protection and power.
“Serena, you know my identity now?" Felix was half-convinced the Emperor’s secrecy couldn’t last—he could hear in Serena’s tone that she understood. Soon, the other three realms’ emperors would know too.
This Nine Provinces Realm is deep water; he didn’t know how far he’d stepped in, but he’d certainly stirred up the pond.
“So, what brings you here today?” Serena smiled, seeing Felix had little loyalty to the Emperor, and invited him to state his purpose.
Felix had come specifically to help Serena, not to add to her troubles.
Serena half-joked, "Now that you're so coveted, Felix, I'm honored to have you as a guest—but truly, I'm too busy to entertain."
Felix, amused and slightly stung, remarked, "You're being insincere, but I still prefer your straightforwardness over the masked courtiers of the Capital."