He has been reincarnated through countless worlds, adorned with billions of mythological terms!

She stood up, brushed aside the creases in her skirt, and said crisply:

"You go see those old fogies tomorrow, and I'll sort out which side people in the court have taken."

"Once things are sorted out on both sides... the rest will be much easier."

"Um."

Yunling didn't say anything more, walked out, and closed the door behind her.

The next morning, as dawn broke and the sky turned a pale gray, Yun Yi left the courtyard.

He wore a dark gray close-fitting outfit, without a cloak or any attendants. He walked alone through the empty palace road, passing through several gates, and finally stopped in front of a secluded courtyard.

Here live several retired officials who still have influence in the army and the court—old people from the previous emperor's time, whose roots are so deep that the emperor is too lazy to care about them, and they are too lazy to pay attention to the emperor. They live a semi-retired life, offending no one and getting close to no one.

Yunyi pushed open the courtyard gate.

An old man was squatting in the courtyard watering flowers. His gray robe had been washed until it was almost white, his hair was gray, and his face was thin, but his hands holding the water ladle were unusually steady.

The old man looked up and saw a six-year-old child enter. He narrowed his eyes slightly and said, "Whose little kid are you? You've come to the wrong house."

"You've come to the right place." Yun Yi stopped in front of him. "I've come to talk to you about something."

The old man put down the water ladle, straightened up, and his gaze lingered on the child's face for a moment: "What do you want to talk about?"

"Let's talk about this country."

The old man remained silent for a moment, his expression calm:

The palace door was ajar, and a warm, cloying fragrance wafted from the crack. Several spices were mixed together, so sweet it was almost suffocating.

Yunyi pushed open the door and entered.

The scene inside the hall was even worse than he had imagined.

Several women, their clothes disheveled, lay sprawled on the large dragon bed, with brocade quilts piled haphazardly to one side. The air was thick with the smells of wine, cosmetics, and lingering warmth of intimacy.

The emperor sat in the very center, shirtless, holding a half-full jade cup in his hand, the wine inside swirling gently, reflecting the morning light filtering in through the window.

Upon seeing someone enter, the women lazily lifted their eyelids, then lay back down as if they had no bones.

The emperor sat up a little straighter, placed the wine cup on the small table by the bedside, and looked Yun Yi up and down a few times.

"Oh, I seem to remember you." He rubbed his temples, his eyes, still slightly swollen from the alcohol, filled with a hazy scrutiny. "You are... the youngest?"

"The 101st," Yun Yi said.

"Alright, youngest son it is." The emperor waved his hand dismissively, leaning back casually. "What brings you here so early in the morning?"

Yun Yi stood in the hall, looking at the face buried in layers of makeup through several layers of hanging gauze curtains.

That face was no longer young; the fine lines around the eyes and the loose jawline were the marks of time. But those eyes still had a sparkle, with a nonchalant sharpness, like an unsheathed knife resting on the table.

He was about to speak when the emperor spoke first.

"You've come to take this country, haven't you?"

The voice was soft, the tone flat, as if saying the weather was nice today.

Upon hearing this, several concubines looked at the emperor with some confusion, then at the child in the hall, their eyes filled with bewilderment.

Yun Yi was silent for a moment, then did not deny it: "Since Father Emperor cannot manage it, then let your son manage it."

He didn't say much, but his words were as powerful as water breaking through stone.

Several concubines' expressions changed instantly, their eyes filled with "How dare they be so bold?"

The emperor suddenly laughed, a very soft laugh, short and abrupt, like a cough.

He picked up the jade cup and took another sip, then looked at the remaining wine in the cup, as if speaking to the bottom of the cup:

"Just a bunch of useless mortals."

"Whether they live or die, what does it matter compared to this world?"

He raised his eyes, his gaze falling on Yun Yi. The smile remained on his lips, but his eyes held no joy: "Why do you care about them?"

Through the hazy gauze curtain and the faint smoke, Yun Yi looked at that face that had been soaked by time and wine for a long time.

"In Father's eyes," he said, "they are a bunch of mortals, insignificant. But in your son's eyes... they are human beings."

The emperor's hand paused.

The jade cup hovered in mid-air, and the remaining wine inside almost spilled when it was tilted slightly.

He lowered his head and looked at the glass of wine, as if trying to read something from the amber liquid.

"……people?"

He repeated the word, as if savoring an unfamiliar phrase.

He then put down the cup, leaned against the back of the couch, and looked at the intricate cloud patterns and auspicious beasts on the ceiling, the gold threads gleaming slightly in the morning light.

"I have been sitting on this throne for almost a hundred years," the emperor began, his voice lower and slower than before. "When I ascended the throne a hundred years ago, I thought the same as you—that all the people under heaven are my subjects, and that sitting on this throne means taking care of them, protecting them, and ensuring they live a good life."

He paused, then chuckled self-deprecatingly: "Later I realized that there's no way to manage everything."

"Today we provide disaster relief, tomorrow there will be famine; today we win a battle, tomorrow war will break out on the border; today we rectify officialdom, the day after tomorrow the new officials will be even more corrupt than the old ones."

"Do you think you can manage it all? Can one person fill every crack in this land?"

"I have considered using force to suppress them, and even destroying a hostile first-class empire, but the situation at home has not improved as a result."

He turned his head, his gaze returning to Yun Yi, his eyes filled with years of weariness:

"It's not that I don't care, it's that I'm tired of managing things."

The hall fell silent.

The gauze curtains were stirred by the wind blowing in from the doorway, gently brushing against the ground.

The concubines finally realized that something was wrong, so they quietly pulled the brocade quilt over their bodies and huddled in the corner, not daring to make a sound.

Yun Yi stared into the emperor's eyes for a long time.

"Father felt he couldn't manage it all, so he stopped interfering."

He said, "I feel I can't manage it all, which is why I need to manage it even more."

The emperor narrowed his eyes slightly.

"Because if you don't do anything, those cracks will get bigger and bigger until the whole area collapses and buries everyone."

Yun Yi's voice was not loud, but every word was clear: "Father is lying here drinking, embracing his concubines, and not attending morning court every day—you think you can get away with it like this, but the cracks won't stop widening just because you don't look at them."

"Currently, corruption is rampant within the Yunming Empire, the people are suffering, and the border troops are lacking food and pay, and their morale is low."

"This winter alone, the number of homeless people who froze to death on the roadside is enough to fill all the mass graves outside the city."

"Father is hiding in the palace and can't see, but I can see."