Chapter 4 003 [Your Majesty has completed the Xuanwu Gate Incident…

Chapter 4 003 "Your Majesty has completed the Xuanwu Gate Incident. ...

The butler of the He family quickly rescued the young master from the pit.

Humiliated, He Jianshen laid into the servants. Even the originally planned tennis gathering was canceled. He went back to his room to freshen up and then called Song Tianyang to demand an explanation: "Apologize to me."

Everyone he’d ever met was profit-driven.

It’s hard to think outside what you were raised with. Without needing to be explicitly taught, his elders’ example had ingrained it in him—actions must have a clear motive. For instance, his rejection of Song Tianyang: she would compete with him for the family inheritance, so he had to drive her out.

But driving her out absolutely didn’t include pushing her into a pit and spraying her with a water gun.

Song Tianyang: "No."

He Jianshen laughed bitterly: "Think the He estate is like the slum your mother lives in? My house is covered with security cameras; everyone will see what you did."

That did make Song Tianyang cautious—

"You’re so concerned about my mother’s residence and occupation. You my mom or something?"

...But not the kind of caution he had anticipated.

He Jianshen raised his voice slightly: "I was looking down on you for living in that dump, and the surveillance cameras clearly show you pushing me into the pit!"

Analyzing harsh words is akin to explaining why a joke is funny.

Both only make you look foolish.

"Oh,"

Song Tianyang replied: "Can you send me that footage?"

There was not a trace of fear in her voice, only pure pride and a sense of savoring it.

He Jianshen: "!?"

Then he heard Song Tianyang say: "In the eyes of your He family, I’m an illiterate country bumpkin. Isn’t it fitting I act like this? You think the He family would call the cops and have me cuffed over a prank, just to humiliate us both at the station? If I lose face, I’m just being myself. If you lose face, it’s a total character meltdown, big brother."

She stressed the word 'brother' with heavy meaning.

At that moment, He Jianshen’s scalding anger finally cooled.

Indeed.

Would he really show that footage at a family dinner? The part where he fell flat on his face and got drenched?

He Jianshen had to admit it.

He couldn’t bear losing face. In fact, he was already thinking of destroying the footage to cover it up.

He Jianshen bluffed, "What if I decide to follow through with the evidence?"

"Then I reserve the right to claim that the water gun was filled with Zhang Erbao’s urine."

A random stranger’s name popping out in this conversation was too bizarre, and He Jianshen couldn’t help but ask:

"Who is Zhang Erbao?"

Song Tianyang: "Zhang Erbao is a stray dog near my school."

"..."

He Jianshen was confused.

He was still angry, but for the first time, he felt the confusion of not knowing where to strike.

After a brief silence, he hung up the phone in humiliation.

He Jianshen’s anger had no outlet. The door was gently pushed open, and a delicate figure slipped in without him noticing until He Yuan, stepping through the crack in the door, spoke timidly: "Brother, I heard sister came to make trouble?"

"Don’t call her sister; she doesn’t acknowledge herself as a He family member anyway."

"Yes, I’ll do as you say, brother," He Yuan replied softly, then walked up to him and tugged at his sleeve: "Next time, don’t meet her alone, brother. I’m afraid she’ll do anything when she’s crazy. If it happens again, I’ll protect you... She’s the one who owes you, and she hates me. Brother, don’t go against her for my sake anymore."

Her tone was timid and pitiful.

He Jianshen wasn’t really standing up for her; he was fighting for his future inheritance share.

But his sister’s words sounded more pleasing and more dignified.

So He Jianshen readily accepted this narrative: "I’ll definitely protect you. Even if we’re not blood-related, we grew up together as siblings."

Elder He valued blood relations, and He Yuan would only get scraps in the future, which was entirely beneficial to He Jianshen. Plus, there was genuine sibling affection from years of being together, so his scales immediately tipped in her favor:

"I will never accept her."

"Grandfather wants to give the Gu family marriage contract to her. I’ll help you fight for it. Gu Shangyang has always liked you."

He Yuan shyly said yes.

That was what she wanted too.

She wasn’t stupid. She knew that the moment the paternity test results came out, the He family fortune would forever be out of her reach. All she could do was cautiously provide emotional value to the He family, and in the future, as the adopted daughter of the He family, strive to maintain her status and lifestyle in this class and circle.

Young Master Gu was upright in character, with a good background and appearance, the dream lover of many high-society ladies. She had built up some rapport with him, and she absolutely couldn’t let Song Tianyang step in.

What Song Tianyang had was the true bloodline of the He family.

He Yuan bore no hostility toward her, but she really needed Gu Shangyang as her fiancé.

Sorry, sister.

...

On the other side, Song Tianyang returned to the urban village where she and her adoptive mother lived, which He Jianshen had investigated.

He Jianshen couldn’t understand why her reaction to conflict was so fierce and swift, because he had never lived in a "handshake building" where the distance between his door and the neighbor’s window was only an arm’s length. In such close quarters, when a quarrel started, you didn’t even need to go out; just opening the window allowed you to slap the other person in the face.

In such a situation, being too subtle meant being taken advantage of.

If the neighbor dumped trash at her doorstep in the morning, she would block the neighbor’s door and curse by noon.

As Song Tianyang stepped into the alley, she heard her adoptive mother, Song Huafeng, arguing with a newly moved-in elderly man across the street: "Is this place yours? I can throw it wherever I want! Who are you to boss me around? If you’re so delicate, go live in a mansion! Can you afford it?"

"This is my doorstep! You throw trash here, and it stinks to high heaven. Don’t you have any sense of public decency?"

“Can’t you just toss it when you see it? Lazy woman—no wonder no man wants you!”

Song Tianyang had barely stepped over the threshold when she saw Song Huafeng snatch the garbage bag from the ground and hurl it at the neighbor’s door, splattering soup and water everywhere. “Mom, I’m home.”

“Mm. Go inside and eat.”

The moment she saw her daughter return, the old woman instantly shifted blame and escalated the confrontation: “You dare splash *me*?! Just you wait—I’ll follow your daughter to work tomorrow and cause a scene right at her workplace! You’ll have your girl packing her bags and coming home by tomorrow!”

Song Tianyang had one foot already across the threshold but stopped, turning back with a smile: “You old hag—I work in a sweatshop tightening screws, paid daily: work one day, skip three. It’s not exactly some prestigious job. And for those three days, I won’t even set foot in that shady internet café. I’ll just wait until Sunday, when your grandson comes over—we’ll have a nice long talk. Try bullying my mom again—and see what happens.”

Out in the world, your identity is whatever you make it.

“You—you—you… Don’t you *dare* harm my precious grandson!”

The old woman immediately cowered.

She knew plenty of young people worked in the nearby factories.

According to her granddaughter, a pretty girl like this one was the factory’s “flower,” constantly surrounded by a gang of dyed-haired hoodlums.

“Tsk.”

Song Tianyang let out a cold laugh—and shut the door.

Inside, dinner was already laid out. She served herself rice and sat down: “Mom, I’ve got money. Let’s move.”

“Where’d you get it? From the He family?”

Song Huafeng glanced up.

“Something like that.”

“Save it if you’ve got money. I’m useless—I couldn’t earn you a dowry or a house. A woman needs money in her own hands to feel secure. Don’t let a few extra coins make you forget where you came from. If you want to live in a big house, go ahead and do it yourself. I’m not moving.”

He Yuan’s refusal to meet his biological mother had wounded Song Huafeng deeply.

But thinking it through, she was poor and had nothing to offer her daughter. The best thing she could do for her child was stay as far away as possible. Only Tianyang remained stubbornly loyal—still trying to squeeze money out of the He family for her sake.

Song Tianyang knew exactly how to handle her mother. As she ate, she said, “If you won’t take my money, I’ll save it up, buy a souped-up scooter, round up some hoodlums for a race, knock back two bottles of Feitian Maotai before revving the engine—and then you’ll see whether I fly straight to heaven.”

“How *dare* you! Song Tianyang—I raised you for over twenty years, and now you want to throw your life away?!”

Song Huafeng slammed her chopsticks down.

Song Tianyang: “Move—or lose your daughter before you even reach old age. Choose one.”

When it came to going all-in and flipping the table, she’d long since outplayed her mother.

Song Huafeng fumed for a long time—but eventually relented. As she ate, she scolded: “Learned to threaten your own mother, have you? Impressive. How much did you get? Tell me. I doubt the He family’s that generous—not like those TV dramas. Even the gems they wore weren’t half as big as the ones on screen.”

“The cost of just *one* outfit from the He family could fund a dozen of those short dramas you watch.”

Song Tianyang showed her the bank balance directly.

In the past four days—between daily tasks and today’s “Xuanwu Gate” event—she’d saved twenty thousand yuan. Old Master He had even given her a supplementary card, telling her she could spend freely—as long as she agreed to change her surname.

“Twenty thousand.”

Song Huafeng gasped: “Looks like they really *do* like you.”

Earlier, she’d called the He family stingy—but now, faced with that solid five-figure sum, it seemed astronomical.

After all, even working an entire year without spending a cent, she couldn’t save twenty thousand.

“Yeah.”

Song Tianyang lowered her eyes.

*No, Mom. To the He family, twenty thousand is an insult.*

She preferred the money she earned completing tasks on the Emperor System over what she’d groveled to extract from the He family.

Song Tianyang knew there was a fortune lurking in that supplementary card.

But so what?

Besides—she *was* the Little Emperor herself. If she wanted, she could seize their entire fortune outright.

The System: “Your Majesty, don’t cry—your crown beads will fall.”

…

Chi Zhiqing had just deplaned and rushed straight to the urban village.

His tall, imposing figure drew curious glances from passersby. Though dressed only in off-the-rack casual suits, his model-perfect physique made them look as exquisite and luxurious as Italian bespoke tailoring.

Enduring the stares, Chi Zhiqing arrived at Door 680.

The young emperor lived in surprisingly cramped quarters.

It seemed the Lord hailed from humble origins.

Chi Zhiqing didn’t mind—he and his brother had grown up as fishermen’s sons who built everything from nothing. Having risen in the world themselves, they’d never forgotten the struggles ordinary people face. If anything, it only heightened his eagerness to meet her.

Unfortunately, the plot prompts in his head were frustratingly vague.

“The emperor you’re meant to support is Song Tianyang—the protagonist of *The Misplaced Princess*. At twenty-two, she was discovered by the He family, who initially intended to accept her—yet her roughness triggered repeated conflicts. [CENSORED], Song Tianyang’s engagement to Young Master Gu was abruptly canceled. [CENSORED], He Yuan and He Jianshen ultimately forgave Song Tianyang—only for her to die tragically at the hands of kidnappers.”

Chi Zhiqing: “What are the [CENSORED]s?”

Loyal Minister System: “They mark where the plot has deviated.”

Well—never mind.

Chi Zhiqing knocked on Door 680—and waited a few moments.

No answer.

By his third knock, the door opposite swung open. An old woman whose resentment burned hotter than a vengeful spirit shouted: “Stop looking! That family moved out at noon! Dressed up like some fancy-pants—what, are you some shady foreman?”

Shady-foreman Chi Zhiqing: “Do you know where they moved?”

“No idea!”

The old woman rolled her eyes—and slammed the door shut.

The System’s intel was delayed. Until the Lord’s new address updated, he’d need to find temporary lodgings.

Chi Zhiqing could only settle for a two-night stay at the local Hilton Hotel.

He had just checked in when he received a notification from the system.

The Loyal Minister System was subordinate to the Emperor System. As the subordinate party, he could receive notifications about some of his Lord's completed tasks, but the details were incomplete. After all, he was only a minister—how could a subject pry too much into the emperor's affairs?

Thus, the notification he saw was merely a brief line:

“Your emperor has completed the Xuanwu Gate Incident.”

Chi Zhiqing was filled with awe.

Author’s note:

----------------------

Chi Zhiqing (ecstatic): Could my emperor be Li Shimin?