Xiu Jin stared for a long moment before realizing that the shape beneath the blanket was a human form—so his precious daughter had someone lying beside her?!

As Bian Bian finished covering Zhu Yuan, the sky grew increasingly overcast. The little girl took off her skirt and returned inside, and only then did Xiu Jin understand that the place his daughter had been was the balcony outside.

What puzzled Xiu Jin was: how had the “person” on the balcony appeared? Or rather, how did they come to be there? Were they dead?

She should be dead, otherwise the little one wouldn’t be covering the other person with a blanket.

Xiu Jin started to have a headache—he hadn’t seen what had happened earlier, and the game has no rewind function, so he couldn’t learn the backstory. Fortunately his precious daughter was fine. Seeing the little girl carefully close the balcony door, this old father’s heart finally relaxed a little.

At that moment, a speaker icon popped up above Bian Bian’s head, meaning his precious daughter was speaking.

Xiu Jin sat in the carriage heading to the palace and didn’t want anyone unrelated—namely the driver who had come to pick him up—to hear Bian Bian’s voice. So when he tapped the speaker icon, he casually chose the “text display” option.

The words spoken by the precious daughter appeared as text.

“Huīhuī, if we let that dead uncle lie there forever, he’ll start to smell. How will I hang the laundry then?”

The little one looked distressed, but couldn’t think of a better solution; with her tiny arms she couldn’t move the dead uncle.

At the thought of no longer being able to go out on the balcony, the girl puckered her lips sadly—it meant she had lost one of her play spots.

From his daughter’s words, Xiū Jǐn could be sure that the man was dead. A bigger question immediately arose: how did a dead man end up on the balcony?

Could he have fallen from the upper floor?

The system probably couldn’t bear his various absurd guesses, or perhaps, “feeling pity” for his state as a father, kindly popped up a prompt: [Zhù Yuān was ambushed and shot by a friend. In despair he discovered Biānbiān, and using wind-type abilities flew up to the balcony hoping to seek Biānbiān’s help. Unfortunately his wounds were too severe and he fainted, whereupon Biānbiān mistook him for dead and prepared his body.]

Xiu Jin: “…”

Shouldn’t he be praising his darling daughter’s kindness?

So, the person on the balcony didn’t die? Still alive?

If he wakes up, could he be a threat to my darling daughter?

“Your Highness, we’ve arrived.”

No matter how worried Father Xiu was about his precious daughter, the driver’s reminder pulled his attention away from the game.

My dear, wait for Daddy to finish his things, then he’ll come see you.

The Seventh Prince had lived in the palace until coming of age; after that he moved out and proudly bought his own house with the first pot of money he earned, not relying on the royal family.

He was, of course, very familiar with the palace.

On the way into the main hall, Xiu Jin ran into a young man who was also there to pay respects to the emperor.

Seeing him, Xiu Jin rolled his eyes.

The man wore extremely sumptuous clothing, a feather stuck atop his head marking his identity—the Feather Clan. His features were dazzlingly beautiful, like the most perfect work of craftsmanship with not a single flaw; a shimmering feather gem adorned his brow, accentuating his exquisite features with unmatched allure, yet without a trace of femininity.

Stunningly beautiful, noble and resplendent.

The feathered jewel at his brow was a symbol of status; this young, handsome man was the new-generation leader of the Feather Clan—the Feather Emperor, Huan Tianjue.

“Seventh Prince, good morning.” Huan Tianjue smiled, and everything around him paled in comparison to that smile.

“……”

Peacock brat, you effeminate little bitch.

Xiu Jin calmly studied Huan Tianjue’s face, then looked at his own; after last night’s meticulous skincare, his was certainly no worse than that man’s.

The feud between the Seventh Prince and the Feather Emperor goes back more than a decade — they were archrivals. The previous Feather Emperor and the Imperial Emperor were friends, but the former was gravely wounded while aiding the empire’s campaigns to unify the realm, and later left behind the young Huan Tianjue when he passed.

The Imperial Emperor then brought Huan Tianjue into the palace to care for him, and when Huan Tianjue came of age, he bestowed upon him the title of Feather Emperor.

So Xiu Jin and Huan Tianjue had practically grown up together.

By rights, two peers of similar age should have become friends, but in reality, their relationship was like oil and water — Xiu Jin disliked Huan Tianjue very, very much.

He thought Huan Tianjue was hypocritical and eccentric to the extreme. A man who was prettier than women was one thing, but constantly dressing in gaudy, effeminate ways was simply unbearable!

Other members of the Jiao clan were also good-looking — why didn’t they dress like that?

Of course, if it were only a matter of different styles of dress, it still wouldn’t have made their relationship so tense. The main issue was—

“Seventh Prince, your skin looks especially dewy today. A couple of days ago I passed through a planet with poor environmental conditions and my face broke out a bit… What skincare products do you use, could you recommend them to me?” Huan Tianjue asked earnestly, as if he and Xiu Jin were old friends.

Xiu Jin: “…”

This was one of the things Xiu Jin hated about Huan Tianjue: his very presence was a constant reminder that Xiu Jin was “ugly,” which had sparked a childhood complex of comparison and driven him farther and farther down the path of becoming a “meticulous boy,” with no way to pull himself back.

He’s a man!!!

Xiu Jin gave a polite, insincere smile and replied, “What skincare would a man like me use? Not like you who dote on your skin… But if it’s an allergy, go see a doctor.”

There were no signs of allergy on that smooth, beautiful face. Damn it, this peacock was deliberately pointing out in front of everyone that he used skincare to maintain his looks.

Huan Tianjue smiled regretfully, then walked alongside Xiu Jin and naturally changed the subject: “Does Seventh Prince know why the Emperor summoned us today?”

Xiū Jǐn thought: how would I know? Even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you, brat.

“Wait until you see Father and you’ll find out,” he said.

“I do know a little,” Huàn Tiānjué said, her tone lacking any hint of boasting, but Xiū Jǐn could tell she was showing off.

Look, I know why the Emperor summoned us, and you, as his son, don’t.

Xiu Jin: “…”

He wanted to beat this person.

But Huan Tianjue fell silent after saying that, as if deliberately waiting for Xiu Jin to question him.

At that moment, hurried footsteps sounded ahead, and a figure turned—Prince Fifth, Xiu Yan.

“Tianjue, Xiaojin.” Seeing the two of them, Xiuyan was overjoyed. “Father is already waiting for you—hurry up.”

It wasn’t until he met the Emperor and Empress that Xiu Jin understood why the Emperor had summoned him and Huan Tianjue to the palace—the Emperor wanted them to do charity work, to establish a charitable foundation to help the people of resource-poor planets obtain the most basic necessities for survival.

“……”

There was nothing wrong with setting up a charity and doing good; Xiu Jin donated often. But why did it have to be with Huan Tianjue?

“Because this proposal was put forward by Tianjue,” the Emperor said gently.

Xiu Jin: “???”

The Emperor continued, “Xiao Jin, Tianjue has the will, you have the means; together you can carry this out beautifully, and it will also show refugees on other planets that the Imperial family will not abandon them. The Empire cares for every one of its people.”

…..

Until they left the palace, Xiu Jin looked at the flamboyantly dressed man beside him and finally couldn’t hold it in. Suppressing his anger, he gritted his teeth and said, “You did that on purpose!”

Damn it, you scammed my money!

Huantian Jue was extremely puzzled; those deep, beautiful eyes looked at Xiu Jin, then suddenly he understood what Xiu Jin meant. He said, “Seventh Prince, please don’t misunderstand. Haven’t you long wanted to do charity? I happen to have the same idea. Besides, recently the Star News has been reporting on the imperial family’s inaction, and several planets have rallied together to denounce the Emperor… If we take the lead in cooperating now, wouldn’t that be perfect?”

Xiu Jin gritted his teeth: “Why the hell didn’t you tell me earlier?”

If that bastard had told him in advance and they could have negotiated, would he have been this furious?

Huantianjue sighed, then suddenly activated his optic brain and transmitted an image to Xiu Jin: “I know Seventh Prince has many misunderstandings about me. If I rashly bring this up to you, you would surely think I have ulterior motives, so I went directly to propose it to the Emperor. Please don’t take offense, Seventh Prince.”

Xiu Jin looked down at the footage, which showed refugees trying to survive on a barren planet.

After watching, he glanced at Huantianjue with an expressionless face, said nothing further, and instead got into his car.

“Sir.” Huantianjue’s personal attendant stepped forward. “Seventh Prince doesn’t seem willing. Could he be going to sabotage this?”

Huantian Jue’s smile dimmed a bit, and he shook his head carelessly.

The subordinate asked in puzzlement, “I don’t quite understand. You could choose to cooperate with another prince, especially the Crown Prince—so why choose the Seventh Prince?”

Clearly he and the Seventh Prince are the least compatible.

Although the Emperor is in his prime, he will eventually abdicate; the imperial throne is chosen by merit: whichever prince is the most capable will be the next Emperor.

The eldest prince was the strongest of the princes in every way, and he urgently needed some achievements to prove himself.

When it came to charity work, the eldest prince would definitely agree.

“Because Xiu Jin has money,” Huan Tianjue said; the reasoning was just that simple.

The other princes were all too poor.

Doing charity isn’t a simple matter; it requires a continuous, large influx of money—only someone foolishly rich like Xiu Jin can afford it.

But Xiu Jin was surprisingly agreeable today; especially after Huan Tianjue showed him that footage, the other party said nothing and tacitly accepted the cooperation.

This greatly surprised Huan Tianjue. He had shown the footage to evoke Xiu Jin’s sympathy for the refugees, but knowing Xiu Jin as he did, even if the footage moved the pampered prince, he wouldn’t have expected him to agree so quickly.

It seemed Xiu Jin’s heart had softened considerably.

Huantian Jue raised his beautifully arched eyebrow slightly, keenly sensing something was amiss.

*

Sitting in the car, Xiu Jin couldn’t shake the images from his mind: the filthy surroundings, the gaunt refugees, and among them, he had even seen a child.

In that instant, the little figure of Bianbian flashed through Xiu Jin’s mind.

He still couldn’t spend money in the game to buy things for his precious daughter, to improve her life; being able to help refugees on the barren planet through charity in real life was also a kind of comfort to him.

That comfort dissipated Xiu Jin’s anger toward Hua Kongque.

After all, the one thing he lacked least was money.

With that thought, Xiu Jin couldn’t wait to open the game—his favorite act of charity, of course, was to take good care of his own little one.

Just thinking about his precious daughter living worse than a refugee—refugees at least have parents to care for them and no monster threats—while his darling girl was all alone made Xiu Jin ache with worry.

How could he kindly build up intimacy with Bianbian?

On the screen, the little one had spread a mat in the living room with a LEGO set placed on it.

The little girl was building with LEGO.

She built quickly, because these were pieces she had assembled many times before.

There weren’t many toys around, and this LEGO set was something Lu Yu happened to find in a shop; the little girl had always treasured it.

A heavy rain began outside the window, accompanied by occasional thunderclaps, and each time thunder rolled, Biānbiān’s small body would involuntarily tremble.

Balcony

Cold rain fell; the waterlogged blanket grew heavy and pressed tightly against Zhu Yuan’s face.

Perhaps the injured C-class ESP’s will to survive was too strong, allowing him to slip out of unconsciousness amid suffocation and slowly come to.

And it was just as well he woke up; otherwise he never would have.

Zhu Yuan threw off the heavy blanket, saw the door through the downpour, rolled over, and scrambled toward it, clenching his fist and starting to pound on the door.

Bang bang bang!

Bian Bian’s hand trembled, and the building block in his hand fell.

The sound came from the kitchen. The little girl listened for a moment and determined it was the sound of someone pounding on the door, not thunder.

Bian Bian hugged the teddy bear tightly in fear and pretended not to hear it, but the sound kept knocking.

“It was that uncle who died; he turned into a monster.” Bian Bian was both scared and puzzled. Grandfather had said the dead don’t become monsters—only those bitten by monsters do.

“Little miss… please help me…” Zhu Yuan remembered the little girl he’d seen before losing consciousness; he was sure she was still in the room. He didn’t want to die—he had to call for help.

Monsters don’t speak.

“That uncle is alive.” Bian Bian and Little Bear exchanged looks and whispered, “Shall we go check?”

The little bear gave Bian Bian courage. She hugged the bear and tiptoed into the kitchen; the pounding on the door continued, but it was much weaker.

Hesitating, the girl mustered her courage: “Uncle, are you alive?”

“…I…am…” Zhu Yuan spoke each word as if dragging a bellows; the sharp pain in his chest had gone numb, he couldn’t even feel the wound. By instinct alone, he had to survive—he had to live to take revenge on Du Mingyu.

If Uncle was still alive and wounded, she should let him in.

Helping the injured uncle took precedence over the fear pressing at Bian Bian’s heart; she finally pressed down the doorknob.

The little girl didn’t notice that, in front of and behind her, a kitchen knife hung silently in midair.

Xiū Papa pinched the knife between two fingers; the moment his precious daughter opened the door, if anyone outside tried to do something untoward to her, he wouldn’t hesitate to chop them with it.

The door opened and rain poured in, immediately soaking more than half of the dress Bian Bian was wearing.

When Zhu Yuan saw the little girl who appeared before him, a burst of living hope flashed in his eyes.

Suddenly, his pupils shrank sharply as he fixed his gaze on the cleaver behind the girl that gleamed with cold light, his nerves stretched to the breaking point.

This little girl was not only a superhuman, but also a psychic — the most mysterious and rarest of all psionic powers!