Imperial Palace, Every Scheme in Ruins

Serena Feng returned to Feng Manor and was welcomed like the sun itself—everyone from stewards to maids and guards rushed out to surround her, laughing and crying, making her the undisputed center of the household. In stark contrast, Prince Nolan and Ninth Prince Manor faced a completely different atmosphere.

The entire Ninth Prince Manor was shrouded in a low, oppressive mood. When the butler heard that Prince Nolan had returned to the Capital safely, he didn’t go out to greet him—instead, he led the whole household to kneel in the outer courtyard.

As soon as Prince Nolan stepped inside, he saw the butler leading the remaining staff of Ninth Prince Manor. Counting carefully, he realized quite a few people were missing.

Prince Nolan knew exactly why those people were gone. With a cold glance, he said, "Rise."

"Thank you, Your Highness, for your mercy." The old butler trembled as he got up, his face looking much older than before. The servants behind him all hung their heads, no one daring to speak.

The ones left were those absolutely loyal to Prince Nolan—even when his fate was unknown, they hadn’t betrayed him. Nolan, of course, did not blame these people. He had the old butler reward them, then dismissed everyone.

The servants received rewards for their loyalty, but the old butler got nothing—he had failed in his duties.

"What happened?" Prince Nolan asked as he walked further inside.

"Your Highness, it was my oversight. Seven people were discovered in the manor—two were agents of the Emperor, the others belonged to Westlyn, the Empress, and Prince Rowan. The last two were bribed later by Prince Jason and the Cui Clan."

"Seven? You really have grown old." Nolan’s voice was full of disappointment.

Servants at Ninth Prince Manor are rare, and each one is thoroughly vetted—background checks go back three generations, and only those with solid guarantees are allowed in.

All these people were under the old butler’s watch, yet so many spies slipped in right under his nose. His negligence was serious.

Aware of his mistake, the old butler knelt again. "Your Highness, please punish me."

"You're getting old. Go retire at the country estate." Prince Nolan said, leaving without a backward glance.

The old butler struggled to his feet, unsteady, unable to utter a single word of plea.

Since Prince Nolan’s accident, the old butler had been a mess. If he'd managed things better, the situation wouldn't have gotten so bad. He really was old now—hesitant, always worrying about what would happen if Prince Nolan truly met disaster.

Prince Nolan returned to his quarters, where hot water was already prepared. After bathing and changing, he took a carriage straight to the Imperial Palace.

By this time, word had reached the palace. The once-joyous banquet fell instantly silent; every face—emperor and officials alike—changed.

Prince Nolan isn’t dead after all? How could that be?

A flash of shock crossed the Emperor’s eyes. He glanced quickly at Felix Fuller, who slowly nodded, confirming the news was true.

The Emperor’s pupils dilated sharply and he sat up straight, but almost instantly regained his composure. With a gentle tone, he addressed the ministers: "I’ve just received some wonderful news."

Good news? What good news?

All the ministers turned to look at the Emperor. A few sycophants stepped forward to offer flowery praise, but the Emperor paid them no mind.

A smile was on the Emperor’s face, but his eyes were icy cold. The ministers, seated far away, couldn’t see the chill beneath his surface.

"Not long ago, Ninth Prince was ambushed. I know all of you, like myself, have been worried for his safety. Now I can tell you—there’s no need for concern. Heaven favors the virtuous: Ninth Prince has safely returned to the Capital."

What? Prince Nolan is alive and back?

What? He wasn’t dead at all?

The ministers froze on the spot. One after another, they looked at each other, then all turned to stare at the Emperor.

"Your Majesty, did you just say Ninth Prince has returned safely to the city?" a senior official asked nervously.

"That’s right—Ninth Prince is safe and sound. Gentlemen, raise your cups and join me in celebrating his return to the Capital." The Emperor lifted his glass, wearing a festive smile.

Prince Rowan, Prince Jason, and the rest of the officials looked ashen, but had no choice—they raised their cups and forced themselves to utter words of celebration.

Happy? Yeah, right. Like hell I’m happy.

It’s been nearly a month with no news. Even the servants at Ninth Prince Manor turned traitor, and everyone was already scheming how to carve up Prince Nolan’s power. And now he’s back.

Isn’t this just messing with us?

The officials raised their glasses and drank like robots, dazed and barely aware of how they even sat back down.

They’d all written Prince Nolan off as dead—none of them imagined he’d survive.

What are we supposed to do now?

The whole banquet’s atmosphere shifted. It was still noisy, but no one could muster any real spirit—everyone was lost in their own anxious thoughts.

I just pledged myself to Prince Rowan, and now...

Oh god, I even helped Prince Jason suppress Prince Nolan’s faction, and now...

No matter which side they were on, everyone was uneasy now. Over the past weeks, they’d gone all out against Prince Nolan’s faction, crushing most of his die-hard loyalists—and now...

The situation was shifting again. No one knew what Prince Nolan would do next.

Rowan was the most frustrated of all. Just this morning, he’d swaggered into the city, ready to take over Nolan’s remaining power—only for Nolan to show up alive.

He’d barely started, and now it was all over.

Rowan glanced at the officials he’d just recruited; they all avoided his gaze. Even the ones Jason won over were slipping away.

Jason and Rowan seethed, but what did it matter if Prince Nolan was back? The Capital’s power map had already been redrawn—he wasn’t the same all-powerful prince anymore.

Thinking this, Rowan’s confidence swelled. He stood and addressed the Emperor: "Father, I’m delighted to hear Royal Uncle is safe. It’s been months since we last met—I’ve missed him dearly. May I request that Your Majesty summon him to the palace?"

Rowan’s words sounded respectful, but everyone knew he was pushing the Emperor to put Nolan in his place—to show that this was no longer a city where Prince Nolan called the shots.

The Emperor was only too happy to oblige. He agreed at once and ordered the eunuch to summon Prince Nolan. But before the eunuch could even leave, an announcement rang out: Prince Nolan had already arrived at the palace.

He walked straight in, not waiting for permission. It was clear he didn’t care about protocol or the Emperor’s authority.

The Emperor was displeased, though he hid it well, greeting Nolan with a broad smile. "Ninth Brother, you and I are truly of one mind! I was just about to summon you, and here you are. Quickly, announce Prince Nolan’s entrance."

"Announcing Prince Nolan..."

Before the eunuch could finish, Nolan strode in. "Thank you, Your Majesty, I’m already here."

Ignoring the officials, Nolan walked straight up to the Emperor, gave a slight nod—a bare gesture of respect—and, before the Emperor could launch into brotherly speeches, Nolan spoke first...