Miss Wang Weina, even your cousin won't do!

Given the situation, it's no wonder you're arguing with your low emotional intelligence, especially since the person in question had been drinking and seemed to be in the middle of it.

He continued reading.

[Wayne refused all my requests. He refused to cut ties with those playboys, calling them his "friends." He rejected my plan to take him to Lentinium, saying we'd have nothing to talk about. He said I knew nothing about wine, fashion, and most importantly, he didn't understand him at all. I understood his feelings, so I saved the surprise for last. I told him about our new family...]

【….】

"But he refused."

Wayne silently read the following words.

“He glared at me and threatened to drive away this unknown reed. He said he didn’t need any family that fell from the sky; he had friends, goals, and ideals.”

"I will never feel lonely anywhere as long as I am not in this house."

Wayne gently stroked the dried ink, repeating the unforgettable words. Unexpectedly, the King of the North did not show anger or punish Wayne for his words; he simply ended the diary abruptly with a short sentence.

Then he buried his head in the blanket and fell asleep. I stood beside him for a while, then had to leave.

Next, Wayne witnessed an interesting scene.

In the second day's record, the predecessor "reluctantly" took the initiative to touch the reeds.

Yo, hiss—

Oh dear, am I still a tsundere?

Wayne's feelings were very complicated. It was like asking a serious-looking police officer to sell his own cheongsam pamphlets. He felt ashamed, but also inexplicably excited, looking forward to what would happen next.

This arrogant initiative might be the last attempt by his predecessor to reconcile with the King of the North. In fact, his friendship with Reed progressed unexpectedly quickly. Or rather, he made friends very quickly with anyone who didn't treat him as royalty but as an ordinary person.

Two months passed in the blink of an eye before I even finished writing this.

[10th of May, 1085 in the Terran calendar]

Seemingly reacting to the date, Wayne subconsciously frowned as he sorted through his memories while curiously reading the text.

[A tremendous discovery! Today, with the resurrection of fragmented memories, Reed displayed her Originium Arts for the first time. That ability, resembling fire yet not quite fire, felt incredibly familiar. I rushed back to Londinium to confirm my suspicions, and it was indeed true.]

[—Reed is not Vayvan; her bloodline is far purer and nobler than those of those ragtag dragons. She is Drak, she is a red dragon of burning blood, destined for greatness! Just like Aslan is to Filin, she is extraordinary!]

The Victorian annals in the Royal Private Archives of Londinium contain this account: The lions claimed to be equal monarchs, and Draco and Aslan each received an equal opportunity. After this ancient treaty was signed, they were both eligible to become the sole monarch of Victoria. What does this mean?

Perhaps I should reconsider the relationship between Wayne and Reed. They are friends now, but they can't remain just friends in the future. Wayne might become the key to mediating the conflict between the red dragons and the lion pride, and the most legitimate monarch in Victoria's history. I can't let this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity slip away.

I'll take care of the throne problem!

My notes stop here.

Wayne looked at the last sentence, which sounded like a declaration, and suddenly remembered something. He looked up and glanced at the date on the diary again.

July 10, 1085 in the Terra calendar. Only five months before the Wars of the Roses, one of the most important wars in modern Victorian history.

Five months, seemingly a long time, was actually less than half a year. In those six months, the King of the North completed his military preparations and, after the death of Vina's ailing father, King Andrew, he finally marched south and conquered Londinium...

It's hard to imagine how terrifying their drive, their decision-making, and their strength were.

He accomplished his goal. He helped Wayne seize the Victorian throne, earning him the opportunity to become what is arguably the most legitimate and greatest emperor in Victorian history.

Even though Wayne didn't want it.

[7th of May, 1087 in the Terran calendar]

Two years have passed, and it all began on this date—the Wars of the Roses, the day of victory for the Northern Kingdoms.

The mighty army stormed the walls of Londinium, and the "Immortal City" finally fell to its own kin. The Aslan royal family in the palace was purged, with only Vina managing to escape. That night, the King of the North wrote the last page of this notebook.

.......

“Wayne, son. You should understand what I mean.”

By candlelight, the King of the North looked earnestly at the blond boy before him, who wore an expression of disgust, and said...

"Weicao really likes you. If you put in a little more effort, you can definitely win her over."

I consider her a friend.

"Friendship depends on social status!" the King of the North emphasized. "I didn't stop you, as a prince, from befriending your former friends—the lowly laborers, the tavern patrons, the humble local nobles. But this time, you must listen to me. Wayne, you're not young anymore. Reed is Drak, the only bloodline in all of Victoria besides our Aslan family that can be considered a suitable match for us. You don't want to spend your whole life with an old man like me, do you?"

Of course, Wayne could also refuse to marry into the Aslan royal family.

So the King of the North took drastic measures and thoroughly cleaned up Aslan's internal affairs.

For so long, the only woman by Wayne's side was Reed; he had no other choice.

The King of the North believed this; he couldn't find a reason for Wayne to refuse him. This was the best way to unify all of Victoria and completely resolve the troublesome Northern border issues and the Drak problem. This was a matter of national importance, and everyone should be willing to sacrifice some personal interests.

Besides, the reeds were quite beautiful, and her relationship with Wayne had long since reached the stage of dependence—more than friends but less than lovers. He didn't see it as coercion.

At most, it's just my father's worry.

But Wayne rejected him in the faintest of voices.

“I reject this offer.”

Wayne could understand the King of the North's actions. He was a nobleman, and for the sake of a superior bloodline, he should do so; it was only right.

But he abhorred this practice because he did not see Reed as a breeding machine for bloodline optimization, nor was he a stud lion.

He is not a Paradox Interactive player who should be executed.

.......

The way he looked at me was so unfamiliar, it made me angry. I didn't understand why he didn't understand my predicament. Had I not explained myself clearly enough?

He believed I wanted Reed to become king because he had heard from some treacherous scoundrel that the claim I was using in this War of the Succession was not that of Aslan, but that of Drak's Reed.

He believed that I was using him, his friend, and my adopted daughter Reed, as a tool—a tool to achieve Victoria's ideal of unification.

【How absurd! I never thought of him this way. I provided him with the best education, met all his needs, and didn't even restrict his association with those lowly commoners, workers, and ignorant nobles. In the end, I conquered a vast country for him and presented him with this crown as his coming-of-age gift today, on his birthday. And he says I've never thought of him even once?】

As my son, he couldn't even see my good intentions, and we had absolutely no understanding between us. He looked at me like I was a stranger...

I'm starting to regret it. For the first time in my life, I laid a hand on him.

[I hope he can soon break free from the influence of those treacherous people. Draco symbolizes force and desire, while Aslan symbolizes power and order. Your union will only strengthen your bloodline, but the throne of Victoria will undoubtedly belong to Aslan. An amnesiac girl who is completely subservient to you poses no threat to your place in my heart, and I have never intended to give the crown to Draco!]

Believe me, Wayne, I love you.

Wayne closed his notebook, let out a long sigh, and a bitter, helpless smile crept onto his lips.

"You should say these things to my face. What's the point of writing them in your diary?"

Wayne had already recalled what happened after that, recalled that bloody night.

That was the last night of the King of the North.

January 12, 1091 in the Terra calendar.

On the holiest day in Laterano's religion, the gods return to the earth, healing the wounds of natural disasters, resolving the pain of Originium, and bringing the gospel of new life.

The King of the North, somewhat exhausted, dealt with the latest wave of missionary fervor sparked by the Lateran Catholic Church in Victoria. He was not good at politics, especially religious affairs. His relentless suppression of the Lateran religion not only failed to eliminate the papacy in Victoria, but also triggered one riot after another among believers.

He and Lateran had reached their breaking point. Perhaps in a few days, he would make the decision to send troops for an armed pilgrimage!

Pushing aside the tedious religious affairs, he looked at the report handed to him by the unicorn regarding the "suspected Aslan figure" in the Londinium slum.

"Are there still some that slipped through the net?"

Just as the King of the North was about to check the contents of the report, an urgent letter bearing the King of the North's special red seal caught his attention.

He is the King of the North; he couldn't possibly send a letter to himself. So there's only one possible source for this letter.

"Wayne?"

The matter of those who slipped through the net could be dealt with later, but Wayne's matter must be the top priority. The King of the North opened the envelope, and the first line that caught his eye filled him with joy.

[Father, I have thought about this carefully for a long time. We can discuss the matter of the reeds again. Please come alone to Lancaster Villa on the western outskirts of Lentinham at 11:00 PM tonight. I will wait for you until dawn.]

Why does it have to be so late at night? Can't it be tomorrow? Why does it have to be alone? Can't you bring your entourage and guards? Why not wait until he brings Reed back from Dublin to Londinium before discussing it together? Doesn't Wayne value her opinion?

This was a letter full of suspicious points, but the King of the North completely ignored it; all he could think about at that moment was satisfaction.

Wayne understood him.

What bad intentions could my son possibly have?

He issued a recall order towards Dublin, and then waited quietly.

At ten o'clock, he rode out of the palace on time.

At 10:30, he reached the western outskirts and looked out from his horse, spotting Wayne. However, the next moment, a dense barrage of arrows and a tripwire forced him to fall awkwardly to the ground.

Wayne stepped forward, the blade in his hand gleaming faintly. He activated his Originium Arts, swiftly killing one by one the mercenaries who had launched the ambush. This matter was of utmost importance; no witnesses could be allowed to remain, especially these loose-lipped mercenaries. After doing all this, he finally stood before the King of the North. He looked at this great king, this ambitious and ruthless ruler, this most familiar stranger, and raised his sword.

A knife was plunged into his heart; his blood was hot, but his heart was cold.

Then, he held the knife to his own neck, expressionless, and said calmly:

"Since you want Reed to sit in that position, then let her do it."

“I have no intention of becoming your pawn, nor do I intend to become Lateran’s pawn. In short… I have never coveted your throne from the very beginning.”

........

Wayne slammed his notebook shut, snapping out of his reverie, and found his hand unconsciously covering his neck.

"hiss--"

A father who trusts his child from beginning to end, and a child who doubts his father from beginning to end.

If either of them had even a little bit of emotional intelligence, things wouldn't have escalated to this point.

"Whose fault is this?"

With mixed feelings, Wayne placed the notebook on the bedside table, took off his clothes, and planned to take a cold shower to calm his restless mind.

However, he had just taken off his coat when, with a loud bang, the locked bedroom door was violently opened with an FBI-style knock!

"This is Chen, Bruce. Are you there? Come with me... come..."

Chen Zhi stared blankly at Wayne, who was shirtless.

I was stunned.

P.S.: Sunday's py time:

The first book: "Living in the Primitive Era, Joining a Chat Group"