Watching the Show, the Cui Clan Muddies the Waters

Just thinking about those state letters—each one demanding that Eastlyn destroy its thunder-blast grenades and formally promise never to use them again—made the Emperor's temples throb with anger.

This was pure disaster falling from the sky. He really hadn't done anything; if Ninth Royal Uncle died, so be it, but even in death he had to cause more trouble. Truly detestable.

The Emperor took a deep breath, suppressing his rage. "Investigate. Search—search heaven and earth if you must, but find the murderer who killed Ninth Royal Uncle. Also, send men to comb the mountain. Alive, I want to see the man; dead, I want to see the corpse."

No matter what, first confirm whether Ninth Royal Uncle is alive or dead. As for the killer...

The Emperor's head throbbed again. With thunder-blast grenades involved, he couldn't just pick someone to take the fall. Maybe he really should destroy all the grenades—then if something like this happened again, no one could blame him. But...

He couldn't bear to do it.

Thunder-blast grenades were meant for the battlefield. If Eastlyn's soldiers had them, they'd be unstoppable—he'd unify the Four Kingdoms and Nine Cities and become master of the entire continent.

Thinking this way, the Emperor's mood lifted. He waved his hand, signaling for his attendants to withdraw.

The military officer reporting in didn't dare linger—he turned and ran, heart pounding with anxiety.

What are we supposed to do now?!

It was clearly the Emperor who played dirty and failed to clean up after himself. Now that things have blown up and the Four Kingdoms and Nine Cities are all watching, how is he supposed to spin this?

This really is a mess!

One minister looked so deflated that anyone who didn't know better might have thought he was constipated.

Even the Emperor's closest confidants were thinking this way. It was obvious to everyone in the realm: the Emperor had killed Ninth Royal Uncle, and now he was putting on a fake show of hunting down the killer.

This time, the Emperor was stuck with the blame.

The news that Ninth Royal Uncle and Serena had met disaster spread across the continent in no time. Victor Yun was so shocked he smashed a whole set of teacups: "Impossible! There's no way those two could die so easily—impossible, impossible! Investigate... go investigate, now!"

"Ninth Royal Uncle is dead? No trace of a body?" Holden Cui asked, his dark eyes gentle as water, a refined smile curving his lips.

Before his attendant could react, Holden Cui brushed off his robe, stood up gracefully, and walked to the window. After a moment, he spoke slowly: "Prepare some gifts. I'm going to pay a visit to the Wang Clan."

Whether Ninth Royal Uncle was truly dead or just pretending, the timing was perfect. With his fate uncertain and William Wang not in Eastlyn, the short-sighted members of the Wang Clan would surely accept the Cui Clan's olive branch.

He wanted the situation to get even messier.

At this moment, William Wang was on his way back from Southlyn. As the Wang clan’s Grand Heir, famed throughout the realm, his trip to Southlyn was about much more than just resolving Serena’s affairs. He also mingled with Southern scholars and quietly paved the way for the Wang Clan’s future there—a process that took considerable time.

On the road, news was slow to reach him. By the time William finally heard about Serena and Ninth Royal Uncle’s accident, seven days had passed. The moment he got the news, his smile froze, his fingers trembled, and he stumbled into a chair.

According to William’s attendants, they had never seen the Grand Heir lose his composure like this.

He shut himself in his room for an entire afternoon, not a sound coming from within. When he finally emerged at dusk, he was just as elegant and refined as ever, as if nothing had happened—going about his business as usual and leaving everyone puzzled. Of course, no one dared ask questions.

Such a blow didn’t alter William’s plans. He continued toward the Capital at a steady pace, receiving visitors along the way as usual.

The journey went smoothly—except for one event that made William especially furious.

While he was away, the Wang clan took it upon themselves to act, stirring up his father and betrothing his legitimate younger sister to Holden Cui.

The Wang and Cui clans were now allied by marriage!

This news was every bit as explosive as Ninth Royal Uncle’s uncertain fate—instantly grabbing everyone’s attention.

What was the Cui Clan up to? They’d made a high-profile entrance before the New Year, then kept a low profile—now this?

The Cui Clan had kept silent for so long, but when they finally made a move—it was earthshaking.

The future head of the Cui Clan was set to marry the Wang Clan Patriarch’s sister. Was this a strong-strong alliance?

The first to panic was the Emperor. Recent pressure from his ministers had made it clear: imperial power wasn’t as absolute as he’d imagined. Even without Ninth Royal Uncle, the Emperor couldn’t just do as he pleased.

With officials watching and the people watching, no matter how great his power, the Emperor couldn’t act recklessly. The ministers weren’t blindly loyal, and the Cui–Wang marriage alliance brought him unprecedented pressure.

These two giants joining forces were every bit as powerful as Ninth Royal Uncle—maybe even more so.

Had he driven away the wolf only to invite the tiger?

The Emperor fell ill. Hearing the news of the Cui–Wang alliance was the last straw—he collapsed and couldn’t attend morning court.

When William Wang returned to Eastlyn and heard the news, he nearly fell ill with rage too. When he first learned of Serena and Ninth Royal Uncle’s accident, his face changed; when he heard about the marriage alliance, his hand shook and he spilled his tea.

It was just a fleeting lapse, but it was enough to alarm those around him.

The Grand Heir, always calm and unmoved by joy or sorrow, had lost his composure twice in a row—proof of how serious things were.

You have to understand, William Wang is the kind of man who could calmly finish his tea and stroll out even if his house were on fire.

Luckily, only those closest to him witnessed William’s lapse. By the time he entered the city, everyone saw the same poised, brilliant, and striking Grand Heir—winning admiration all around.

That calm and detachment alone set him apart. The Wang–Cui marriage wasn’t just a family alliance—it signaled the Wang Clan’s political direction.

For something so momentous, William could act like it was nothing—proof of his confidence.

William’s composure didn’t mean others could match him. When the Emperor heard William was back in the city, he didn’t wait for him to return home—he summoned him straight to the palace.

The Emperor’s demands were simple: he wanted a stable regime, absolute power, and total obedience from the court.

Now, with turmoil inside and out, if the Wang and Cui clans joined forces, Eastlyn’s throne might just slip away.

William entered the palace, where the Emperor—ill and exhausted—met him and immediately asked three questions.

First: Were you aware of the Wang–Cui marriage alliance?

Second: Who truly calls the shots in the Wang Clan?

Third: You have the talent of a prime minister—would you join the court and assist me?

The Emperor fired off three questions in a row. William didn’t panic—he answered instantly: Marriage is a matter for our parents. The Wang–Cui alliance was arranged by them. As her elder brother, I have no right to interfere in my sister’s marriage.

No right to interfere meant the marriage wasn’t William’s decision. The Wang Clan wouldn’t tilt toward the Cui Clan just because of an engagement.

As for who leads the Wang Clan? Everyone knows—the Patriarch alone decides. The Wang Clan Patriarch acts for the clan, not for personal feelings.

In other words: as long as I am Patriarch, I call the shots. I act from the Wang Clan’s standpoint, never sacrificing thousands of clan lives for personal ties—even for my own sister.

It may sound cold, but that’s the quality a true clan leader needs—and the Emperor admired it.