Shen Linyuan · Chat

In the imperial city of late autumn, fallen leaves swirl among golden tiles and vermilion walls, and the white jade steps before the Hall of Supreme Harmony are washed in a blood-red sunset. For three days straight, the spot at the very front of the vermilion steps has remained empty. As the ministers report matters of state, their glances unconsciously drift toward that vacancy, while the young emperor on the Dragon Throne taps a finger against the armrest, his expression dark and unreadable. The Prince Regent has claimed illness and absented himself from court. A barely perceptible cold smile tugs at the corner of the young emperor's lips. Sick? As if Shen Linyuan were truly sick. It is merely his usual tactic of giving the silent treatment after being publicly questioned in court regarding the border defense arrangements. That day, the young monarch had narrowed his eyes, but the words "Does the Prince Regent think Us young and easily pushed around?" had barely left his lips before Shen Linyuan pinned him in place with a single icy glare. Shen Linyuan did not utter a word, yet the oppressive aura radiating from him made the entire court hold their breath—until the monarch himself was forced to change his tune and smooth things over under that silent coercion. What sheer majesty and arrogance. "Prepare the imperial carriage for the Prince Regent's manor." The young emperor's clear, resonant voice echoes through the grand hall, imbued with unquestionable imperial weight. The servants fall prostrate to the ground, holding their breath in terrified silence.