My brother entrusted his child to me, and I livestreamed raising the baby, making the Empress cry wi

Fujiwara no Shujin tried his best to remain calm, speaking in a measured tone: "My name is Shujin, and I come from the South China Sea. We are all refugees fleeing from war."

He sighed, his expression filled with sorrow: "Because of the continuous rain, our homes have been flooded, leaving us no choice but to come out and find a way to survive. We were originally planning to go to the Great Flame Kingdom—"

Fujiwara no Shūjin paused here, quickly glancing at Ashina's expression, and continued only when he saw that Ashina didn't react.

"We encountered a storm at sea, which caused us to deviate from our course, and that's how we ended up here."

After he finished speaking, he bowed slightly, lowering his posture and adding a touch of sincerity to his tone:

"May I ask, sir, where is this place?"

Raindrops fell on his shoulders and the top of his hair, slowly accumulating into tiny droplets that slid down his temples, making him look both disheveled and harmless.

Ashina stared at him, as if judging the truth or falsehood of his words, his dark eyes appearing particularly deep in the dim light.

After a long pause, he spoke: "This is the Western Regions, the Kingdom of Devouring Flames."

Fujiwara no Tsuruhito breathed a slight sigh of relief. "Devouring Flame?" He'd never heard of it. Perhaps it was some small kingdom in the Western Regions?

If our own men weren't so weak right now, we could have just attacked them, but for now, we'd better not.

Moreover, small countries would likely be wary of such a large number of them, and if they lowered their stance, they certainly wouldn't cause any trouble.

They'll probably try to get rid of them quickly to avoid causing trouble.

Fujiwara no Shūjin's mind raced, but he showed no sign of it.

His expression remained one of faint sorrow and earnestness, his brows slightly furrowed, and a faint, bitter smile playing on his lips.

He sighed again, a hint of helplessness in his eyes, and spoke again:

"I see. Thank you for informing us, sir. We had no intention of offending your country; it was simply that the storm caused our ship to deviate from its course..."

Fujiwara no Shujin lowered his posture even further than before, bowing deeply.

"Now that we know our location, we will set off eastward towards Great Flame, without lingering in your country."

He then waved to the people behind him, signaling them to pack their things.

The nobles behind them began to carefully get up, helping each other as they tried to move toward the ship, while several servants hurriedly began to pack up the boxes that had just been taken off the ship.

"Wait." Ashina's voice descended from above, carrying an undeniable pressure.

"Did I say you could leave?"

Ashina gave a light hum, a carefree smile playing on his lips. He loosened one hand from the reins, casually placing it on the horse's back, and leaned back slightly.

"Once you're on my turf, you can't just come and go as you please!"

Fujiwara no Shujin's expression darkened slightly, and the deliberately maintained smile froze on his lips.

He never expected that a small country in the Western Regions would be so audacious!

He slowly wiped the smile from his lips, the feigned gentleness and humility in his eyes faded, and his imperial pride returned.

The Fujiwara family had been the dominant force in the South China Sea for far too long, and Fujiwara no Shūjin was used to everyone bowing to him. Now, a few words of humility were his limit.

Since they can't reach an agreement, there's no need to pretend any longer. Fujiwara no Shujin struggled to suppress his anger, his gaze shooting like an arrow at Ashina: "What do you mean by that, sir?"

Ashina didn't reply to him again, but simply tilted his head slightly, looking down at him with interest.

They seemed quite interested in his sudden change of expression.

Fujiwara no Shūjin clenched his fist, his fingers one by one pulling into his palm, his knuckles making a very slight cracking sound.

The hilt of the katana was less than an inch to his right, but he ultimately restrained himself. He lowered his eyes and said nothing more.

The soldiers around them gripped their swords even tighter, and a thin layer of water mist condensed on the blades, beginning to trickle down the spines.

The two sides reached a stalemate.

Just then, an old minister beside Ashina looked at Fujiwara no Shūjin and felt that he looked somewhat familiar.

The old minister, over sixty years old with white hair and beard, was a former official from the time of Ashina's father and had always been in charge of diplomacy.

He frowned, leaned forward slightly, and stared intently at Fujiwara no Shojin's face, finding it increasingly familiar.

Gradually, his gaze slid down from Fujiwara no Shojin's face, trying to see if there was anything else familiar.

Then he saw the katana at Fujiwara no Shujin's waist—

A chrysanthemum was tattooed on the scabbard...

Wait! That pattern… that unique sixteen-petaled chrysanthemum design!

He's definitely seen him somewhere before!

The old minister lowered his head and began to repeatedly piece together those distant fragments of memory in his mind.

Suddenly, he was jolted awake, as if someone had poured a bucket of cold water over his head, and his vague thoughts suddenly became clear.

He remembered! He remembered where he had seen that pattern before! And that face!

He quickly leaned close to Ashina's ear, his voice extremely low, his tone filled with barely concealed shock:

"Your Majesty, that short man is the Emperor of Japan—Fujiwara no Shujin!"

"I met him many years ago when I accompanied the late King on his mission to the Great Yan Kingdom to sign the vassal state agreement. He looked much younger then than he does now, so I didn't recognize him at first..."

As he spoke, he glanced again at Fujiwara no Shūjin and the sword, and said with certainty:

"However, I remember that chrysanthemum-patterned katana very clearly; it was the very one he wore back then!"

Ashina paused, his gaze returning to Fujiwara no Shūjin.

The katana hung at his waist, the chrysanthemum pattern on the scabbard shimmering slightly in the drizzle.

Ashina's gaze lingered on the chrysanthemum for a moment, then a meaningful smile appeared on his lips.

The Japanese Emperor? He's even starting to flee? The situation in the South China Sea must be quite dire...

Ashina took another look at the tens of thousands of people in front of him, starting with the soldiers at the front who were holding sword hilts.

He pushed his way through the layers of people, paying special attention to those who were protected in the center and whose clothes were obviously much more luxurious than those of the others.

They must be either members of the royal family of the South China Sea or nobles.

The South China Sea is really going all out!

Since they've come to us, there's no reason for us to let them get away.

Ashina's voice rang out again, this time louder than before, loud enough for everyone in the encirclement to hear:

"This is His Majesty the Emperor of Japan."

He pronounced the word "Emperor" heavily and slowly, as if he had chewed it several times before releasing it.

"Now that you're on my turf, why the rush to leave? The South China Sea is already flooded, and you've just weathered a storm. You're exhausted and your boat is worn out. Where else can you go?"

His gaze fell on Fujiwara no Shujin's face, which had turned completely cold, and the curve of his lips deepened even further:

"Why not stay and join my Devouring Flame—"

He clapped his hands as he spoke, thinking the idea was brilliant.

"And you will be spared the suffering of wandering, won't you?"