That night.
A small episode occurred at the widely watched banquet across the star system.
The royal Crown Clan members of the Holy Cas Empire arrived a bit later than expected.
Of course, no one would really mind.
When Amos appeared with Little Chu Zao, the scattered Crown Clan members at the banquet naturally gathered around them.
During the banquet, countless cameras focused on the Dwight family. Though it was a heavily diplomatic event rather than a live broadcast, a few leaked photos alone were enough to trend wildly across the star net.
‘His Majesty!! His Majesty!!! The best thing about National Day is this—His Majesty and the other Crown Princes rarely appear, but now you can see them up close.’
‘The Crown Clan is honestly flawless from 360 degrees—how can there be such a perfect race?’
‘I’m still in military academy, ah, I’m so mad, not sure if I’ll make it this year—almost at the age limit—really want to get into the army—if I’m lucky, maybe when the little prince grows up, I can serve directly under him!!’
‘But why does Prince Feeney look unhappy?’
‘Huh? Isn’t that just how Prince Feeney always is? By the way, his shaved beard is so hard to get used to.’
‘Uwu, the twins—the twins! Oh my god, what am I seeing, it’s Prince Job and Joshua—stop posting irrelevant photos!! Get clear shots of His Majesty and the other princes, ahhhh!’
‘By the way, I heard some issues cropped up within the decision-making tier recently.’
‘What? Details, please! Decision-making tier? Is something wrong with His Majesty or the princes? Don’t tell me that, I’m already anxious every day. Finally the little prince appears…’
‘I know, it’s those currently in the decision-making tier who are taking a “populist” line, right? And those families? I don’t object to cultivating talent—Holy Cas always needs fresh blood to solidify the empire—but I’ve always found them odd—feels like Amos’s recent decrees are sort of targeting them.’
‘What? What are those people doing? Are they going up against the Crown Clan? Can Holy Cas really be called Holy Cas without the Crown Clan? Have they lost sight of what matters? If they can’t do it, let others in—there are plenty of people desperate to serve His Majesty and the princes and can’t even find a way in!’
There were also opinions from other planets and nations mixed in.
‘Isn’t this generation the last of the Crown Clan? It’s pretty normal for your human upper echelons to deliberate, right? Didn’t the previous Crown Clan ruler also issue some decrees, on what to do if Holy Cas lost the Crown Clan?’
‘The Crown Clan is strong, sure, but this looks like the end of the road for them…?’
These discussions on the Crown Clan’s future hadn’t even prompted waves of cursing from Holy Cas citizens before being locked and wiped.
But the banquet continued.
There weren’t any high-flown speeches at this event. From afar, the little cub spotted his smiling friends.
The little cub’s eyes brightened, but since there were so many people around, he kept a slightly reserved air.
Amos was busy, so the little cub was brought along by Frey—after a run of unreliable siblings, Amos felt Frey was the only one left he could count on.
Frey was introducing the circle of people around them to the cub.
The cub blinked at everyone, occasionally nodding, but didn’t seem to be taking much in.
A while later, Frey stood up: “Alright, Zao Zao, your squadmates are about to leave too—go play, but don’t stray too far.”
The little cub let out a quiet little howl and trotted over to the three-member group. His arms and legs bounced twice, but suddenly realized his surroundings, eyes blinking, and steadied his steps.
Not far off, Feiman and Anya were still teasing Feeney about earlier teaching the cub that “fortunes as boundless as the East Sea, longevity as enduring as the South Mountain” birthday wish.
They’d only heard about it on the way here and couldn’t hold back their laughter.
“Don’t touch—ouch.”
Feeney put on a fake smile.
How ruthless—Second Bro really hits where it hurts! Wherever it’s sore, he aims there—and in spots where you won’t even notice, making you feel like you’re about to fall apart.
Feeney dug his own grave, but he’d do it again.
He scanned the room, his grievances subsiding a bit—
“Northern Free Alliance?”
Feeney gave a light laugh, face cloaked in shadow, expression instantly shifting as he squinted his eyes.
“So the one being targeted is their Chief Judge?”
“Yeah… seems they underestimate our control over the Empire.”
Anya responded. He, too, found it a bit funny.
“It’s as if all those documents we handle daily weren’t done by us—a real stretch. Makes you wonder if this foolishness is actually linked to the Hymn Organization. Regardless, there’ve been deliberate provocations since a few weeks ago, plus money, resources, connections—many cases reported, some indeed incited. That alone is reason enough to act. Second Bro also doesn’t want to wait—whatever can be dealt with tonight, deal with it.”
“That Chief Judge is pretty close with Cheng Xuan, and Cheng Xuan hasn’t reported a lot.”
Feiman said coldly. Her expression barely shifted as, wrist flicking, she seemed to twirl a gun in the air.
“Power, wealth, and backing seem to be pushing our upright, honest, idealistic Speaker forward, like he can’t hit the brakes anymore.”
Everything happening in the Holy Cas Empire.
The Crown Clan watched quietly, unmoved.
Truth be told—including these families, this talent pool—even piled together, they didn’t feel threatened.
Meanwhile, Little Chu Zao approached Chao Huangmu, Yun Songquan, and Peng Liang.
They weren’t invitees per se, but were arranged as Chu Zao’s guards, brought in under military escort as part of Holy Cas’s security detail.
The little cub had gotten a nap earlier; these three had been on duty the whole day, and now it was time for the shift change.
“Little Highness!”
The three saluted.
Chao Huangmu grinned brilliantly, and Chu Zao was briefly dazzled, glancing up at him—
The young teen’s face, still childish and clean, wore a sunny smile and showed no sign of fatigue after a full day. A deep-blue gem clip adorned his ear, flashing the light that had just caught Chu Zao’s eye.
By now, they were quite familiar.
The cub blinked his large eyes, moved in close to Chao Huangmu, and looked up.
“Brother Mu, what is that? Why do you put it on your ear?”
Chao Huangmu’s radiant smile grew so wide it nearly lifted him off the floor—drawing curious glances from Peng Liang and Yun Songquan.
See, he’d told them—divination worked! That fortuneteller was a master!
See, today the little highness was the first to come near him, and so close at that.
Looking at Chu Zao’s face, Chao Huangmu just felt happy inside out.
How to describe that feeling—? Too cute, so much so that just looking recycled your energy.
“It’s my lucky charm for the day, Little Highness.”
Just as he was about to remove the gem clip and hand it to Chu Zao, a new, slightly arrogant young voice rang out by his ear: “Chu Zao Dwight? The next Emperor of Holy Cas? As fellow long-lived kin, nice to meet you.”
The cub’s attention was immediately drawn away.
Chao Huangmu: …
Chao Huangmu didn’t change his expression but turned to look toward the newcomer.
Peng Liang behind him broke into a grin, nudging Yun Songquan beside him, quietly gesturing—with just a busy day, he could barely grab a word with the little highness, and now this big brute was showing off, about to crush that gem clip.
Yun Songquan had little expression except for gentleness whenever he saw Chu Zao. Knowing Chao Huangmu’s personality, he glanced at the approaching youth—this grudge, Chao Huangmu could hold for life. There’d be no rest now.
Just then, the young man approached.
By age, the young Holy Chalice Clan scion Derrick was a bit older, but his race’s reclusive attitude meant he’d been sheltered—still very much a child at heart.
The cub was a bit confused—he remembered that just now uncle had introduced this person, briefly making eye contact, but there were so many introductions—his little mind couldn’t cram them all in.
He thought for a moment, then balled his fist and slapped his palm: “Ah, you’re the—”
That—
The cub’s milky voice trailed off for a while, his head full of question marks, even a bit embarrassed: “Who…were you again?”
Derrick: …
“Holy Chalice Clan, Young Chief Derrick. We’re both long-lived. I expect lots of exchanges ahead.”
Derrick’s manners were impeccable. He saluted Chu Zao.
The cub nodded softly, “Hello.”
Standing by the cub, Chao Huangmu straightened, smiling as always, his eyes on Derrick.
Derrick only came over to make polite conversation per his task.
But seeing that cute little face, after saying his piece, he stood there a moment, feet rooted, not moving away.
The Holy Chalice Clan’s instincts were strong—they sensed danger keenly.
Yet standing next to this little one—Derrick couldn’t explain it. He didn’t even like Crown Clan, but instinctively wanted to talk longer with this cub.
But the two clans didn’t have much to talk about.
Plus, the cub’s knowledge and norms were often not even aligned with the Crown Clan. A few words in, and the conversation ground to a halt.
Finally Derrick thought hard.
He couldn’t say what he felt now. Just faint irritation—and the little ones behind Chu Zao gave him odd vibes, especially Chao Huangmu at his side, who made him instinctively want to shrink away.
Finally, he spoke in defeat: “I really don’t get it. We’re all long-lived; our ways of thinking should be similar. Why form countries with other races? And your Crown Clan, as things stand, aren’t you just working for free? Star-system-level disasters are hard even for long-lived races to avoid—and the organizations targeting us are still active. Honestly, the Holy Chalice Clan’s approach seems much wiser.”
Little Chu Zao blinked his big eyes.
All this was far too complex for a five-year-old to grasp. He instinctively looked to Chao Huangmu.
Chao Huangmu smiled brilliantly: “Little Highness, our guest means that, in times of danger, hiding is the most important thing.”
Eh?
Derrick sensed something wrong. Reflexively, he looked up at Chao Huangmu, who smiled ever so amiably.
The cub realized too. He told Derrick in all seriousness, “Baba taught Zao Zao that running away doesn’t solve problems.”
Zao Zao was no longer the cub that curled into a ball at the first sign of trouble.
Sincerely, he asked, “Didn’t your baba teach you that?”
Derrick froze, and in that moment, the cub misunderstood. Pausing, he looked up, hesitant and gentle, “Do you…have a baba?”
He was worried he’d hit a sore spot, so he asked gently.
But—
Derrick: …“Of course I have a father!”
Oh—then Zao Zao misunderstood.
The little cub quickly took a step back, his little wings trembling.
“It’s like this, Little Highness. The Holy Chalice Clan, unlike the powerful, perfect Emperor and princes of the Crown Clan—”
Chao Huangmu kept that bright, sunny smile, only his eyes betraying a little we-must-understand-their-inferiority-in-ability look.
“They can’t build an empire like Holy Cas, so their philosophy differs. Of course, we should understand why our guest ultimately chose this path.”
Little Chu Zao looked at Derrick, pressed a paw to his own head, then met Derrick’s gaze, utterly sincere.
“It’s okay. Zao Zao’s teacher explained—do what you’re capable of. You don’t have to explain to Zao Zao, really, Zao Zao wouldn’t make fun of you.”
The cub was too soft, too honest—nothing to fault.
Peng Liang, on the other hand, could barely hold his laughter.
He looked at the flustered Derrick, then at smiling Chao Huangmu, and the utterly sincere little highness—this was a “white-cut black” paired with a “naturally black,” a truly devastating combo.
Wait…
Was this right?
The young man had only wanted to promote Holy Chalice Clan wisdom; the elders had brought it many times to the Crown Clan. But now, Derrick didn’t know what to say at all.
Nothing felt right, but they seemed to mean well.
Then a whiff of perfume drifted over, a girl probably just twenty or younger approached, wearing a pink dress and a black-pink hat, her bright eyes flitting out from under the brim and ornaments.
“Crown Clan’s little Highness? And I also heard you’re—the Holy Chalice Clan’s young chief?”
Derrick stepped back a few paces. He recognized her—the elders had introduced her before—Zi Yan, princess of the Northern Free Alliance.
His first impression wasn’t good.
Zi Yan’s voice sounded a bit impatient, as if suppressing a hot temper. She was trying to be polite: “Have you seen our Federation’s Chief Judge?”
“No, is something up?”
Though Derrick’s earlier impression of Zi Yan had been poor, up close, it melted away—mainly because after that little episode with Chu Zao and Chao Huangmu, he was unbalanced, and she looked much more agreeable.
“I’ve looked all over here—of all the heirs, there’s just a few of us.” Zi Yan pouted, annoyed. “I told my father I didn’t want to come along—I had to anyway—to do what? Watch Xijin play both sides? Always so gentle, one by one seducing the Federation’s upper class—she just wants to be the Federation’s mistress.”
She went on, frustration pouring out as if no one cared to listen; nearly all her grievances spilled out.
When she finished, she paused, a bit embarrassed.
But her interruption helped Derrick recover from his earlier daze. He glanced again at the cub with big, blinking eyes, snowy wings folded behind him—clearly not understanding a thing. Derrick finally bade goodbye, turning to Zi Yan, “If you’re looking for her, you might as well wait over there.”
As if unable to withstand the little cub, Derrick soon left.
After a few more words, Yun Songquan reminded, “Time’s up.”
So brief! Chao Huangmu visibly deflated, squatting like a big dog who’d lost its spark: “Little Highness, we’ll be off, then.”
Little Chu Zao’s wings fluttered behind, his small head nodding: “Mm, see you next time, Brother Mu, Brother Peng, Brother Yun.”
So tiny, he waved his paw to say goodbye.
Until they’d exited the banquet hall.
Peng Liang nudged Chao Huangmu. “Enough, don’t float away, that’s enough.”
Yun Songquan drifted past, only to be grabbed by Chao Huangmu, who, still smiling, shrugged, “We’re all the same. Don’t laugh at me.”
*
The banquet didn’t end late, and Little Chu Zao was taken back even earlier.
At this hour, after the banquet, some heads of families involved in Emperor Clansis’s original proposal were gathered together.
It was a long table in a meeting room outside the royal court.
Cheng Xuan sat at the head.
“Absurd!”
One man frowned deeply.
“Chairman, do you know what you’re saying?! Compete? Compete with His Majesty and the princes? Or even the little highness?! I absolutely, absolutely will not participate!”
Cheng Xuan smiled as always.
He looked at the others at the table.
“No need to get upset, I know what I’m saying. When His Majesty Clansis gave us these plans, wasn’t that the point—”
A few family heads tried to laugh it off: “Yes, yes, back then Clansis put us on the front line, wasn’t that it?”
“No, it’s not right at all.”
Another group stood up.
“Everything we do is to support Crown Clan rule, support His Majesty and the princes, and leave Holy Cas a fallback. If this is how you interpret His Majesty Clansis’s plans—I can’t keep participating.”
“No need to be so upset.”
Another spokesman smiled.
“Besides, we’re all in this together. In Amos’s eyes, we’re all a dangerous group to be dealt with. If you bail, who would buy it? It’s for Clansis, for Holy Cas, that we have to stand the pressure.”
“You—”
The Ling family head was the first to jump up angrily, glaring at the other, self-righteous side before storming off, his supporters in tow.
The meeting room was now left with just a few families—each with decades of cultivated talent.
The plan had grown so aggressive, there was no turning back—time for changes.
Cheng Xuan kept smiling, then shook his head: “Cooperation with the Northern Free Federation’s Chief Judge will benefit our progress. If we must withstand pressure, go talk to her; His Majesty Amos won’t casually overturn Clansis’s plans, so you can proceed boldly.”
Cheng Xuan stood, his aged face genial: “We’re all in this together.”
*
Meanwhile, within Dwight Palace.
All the Dwight Crown Clan were there.
Mori had brought over special biscuits baked for the cub.
The little one was sleepily yawning, quite tired today. A bit foggy, but still thinking about the pretty cookies. He sat up on the sofa, holding on—the adults only allowed him two cookies before bed, the rest shared among them.
He was dressed in soft pajamas, his little white wings drooped with fatigue, the golden halo on his head dim and wobbly, hugging that little biscuit, munching away.
On either side, Feiman and Anya hemmed him in. Frey and Amos worked at a nearby table, documents and maps spread out; Amos nonchalantly tapped a few places.
Feeney, freshly educated by Amos, sat alone in a small sofa, bitter.
He didn’t dare move, Amos had ordered him to keep his distance from Little Chu Zao.
He eyed the plate of cookies, nudging Anya’s side with his foot.
“Pass me a cookie.”
Maybe it was that birthday greeting—blessings as boundless as the East Sea, longevity as the South Mountain—that shocked Amos so much.
Feeney had successfully managed to annoy Amos so much that every move he made drew side-eye.
“Can’t get one yourself?”
Anya muttered.
“Fourth Sis, pass him a cookie.”
Feiman shot Feeney a glance, considering the two last cookies on the plate—one for Zao Zao, one for Feeney?
Feiman picked one up, snapped it in half, popped half in her own mouth—
Feeney: ?
Feiman: Mmm, toll money.
She handed the rest to Little Chu Zao, who in turn handed it on.
The little cub, munching away, watched Auntie’s move with wide eyes, then looked at the half-cookie in his hand—Zao Zao, gets it!
“Crunch—”
Feeney: ??
Zao Zao passed the cookie on.
“Crunch—”
Anya handed the cookie to Feeney.
Feeney, pinching a tiny piece of cookie: ???
He almost laughed out of rage, grinding his teeth at the trio on the sofa.
Little Chu Zao was just popping his “toll” into his mouth.
Feeney: “Why do you people take a cut of everything, like geese plucking feathers?!”
Cheng Xuan has to be removed