Although that daytime drama is somewhat interesting, it shouldn’t be overdone.
This sort of thing is more intriguing at night.
Cheng Guang rubbed his aging back and slowly walked out of the room.
He reached the pavilion, brewed himself a cup of tea, and filled the cup to the brim. The scalding tea tumbled inside the cup, releasing wisps of aroma.
Seated in the pavilion, Cheng Guang began pondering his next move. To him, neither the King of South Ming nor the crown prince had much impact on him.
As long as the King of South Ming or the crown prince did not provoke him, he would be dead set against getting involved in their affairs.
But now, this crown prince who was impersonating the King of South Ming was definitely going too far, first colluding with the Devil Clan, then making repeated attempts on his life, putting him in mortal danger. And now, he had even set his sights on the royal ceremonies. If chaos were to ensue during the palace rituals, who knows how many would die.
He could be indifferent to the death of others.
But he was also supposed to attend the royal ceremonies.
In some sense, Cheng Guang was also a member of the royal family, whether as a subject or a royal relative, he could not escape this duty.
Wu Yuemei and Cheng Zhihai were also expected to attend the royal ceremonies.
There were too many people involved in the palace rituals related to Cheng Guang.
If Cheng Guang ignored the South Ming King, even Emperor Zhou, a formidable being in the Heavenly Human Realm, could be grievously injured; what good could others hope for?
The more Cheng Guang thought about it, the more he felt the King of South Ming deserved to die.
He slowly picked up his tea cup, took a sip to moisten his throat, then with one hand on his forehead, he brushed his hair back and lifted his eyes toward the myriad stars in the sky.
His thoughts surged within him.
“Now, what should I do?”
“Although I know the intentions of that King of South Ming and where the Devil Clan has been sneaking in, but…, if I were to tell Cheng Zhihai directly, how would I explain how I discovered it?”
“As for the King of South Ming replacing some officials with members of the Devil Clan to attend the royal ceremonies, causing disturbances, how should I find a good reason to exclude all these problematic officials?”
Cheng Guang was confronted with difficult problems.
At this moment, Cheng Guang felt more than ever that without power, he was truly helpless.
Especially now, when the correct answers were already before him, yet just as he was about to copy them, his ink brush suddenly ran dry.
At times like this, one could only fret and stare blankly, without any other solutions.
The more Cheng Guang pondered, the more he realized the difficulty of this matter for him.
At this time.
The air was clear and cold.
There were few clouds in the sky, hardly any to be seen, allowing the moon to pour its light directly onto the earth.
Cheng Guang stood up, planning to cultivate for a while; this matter was not urgent, as there were still several months until the royal ceremonies.
In those few months, there should be some ways to find a breakthrough.
Moreover…
He had already joined the Bureau of the Lamp.
In the Bureau, though his position was lowly, due to his status, even constables of higher rank had to show him respect.
His words still carried weight.
Perhaps he could use the power of the Bureau’s constables to deal with the pretender prince posing as the King of South Ming.
At that moment, Cheng Guang seemed to think of something, stroking his chin, his eyes brightening.
Speaking of which.
The system gave me two options for this task.
One option is to slay the King of South Ming, while the other is to pledge allegiance to the King of South Ming.
Logically, only one of these needs to be completed.
But…
Couldn’t I complete both tasks and take advantage of the system’s rewards?
This time the task is somewhat interesting; slaying the King of South Ming yields a famous sword. While I don’t know how powerful this sword is, it’s at least a famous sword designated by the system, so its quality can’t be too bad.
And if I pledge allegiance to the King of South Ming, I would receive a Pekinese.
Cheng Guang was a bit skeptical, wondering if his silly system was hinting at something—by pledging to the King of South Ming, was he likening himself to a Pekinese?
A slight twitch formed at the corner of Cheng Guang’s mouth, feeling that the system actually possessed some sense of humor, although strangely cold.
It was like a joke.
Paired with the word “Hell” annotated behind the Pekinese, it turned into a hellish joke.
Cheng Guang couldn’t help but shake his head with a chuckle. If possible, he would complete both tasks.
Pledging allegiance, in theory, only required recognition from the King of South Ming or his subordinates.
But with his silly system’s style, sincerity might not be important nor whether the other party actually wanted to take him in.
Just having the appearance would suffice.
Thinking this, Cheng Guang silently recited in his mind.
“I am a man of the King of South Ming.”
As he spoke, silence ensued.
No task completion sound rang out.
Cheng Guang’s interest waned—the system didn’t accept that?
Has it grown smarter?
Impossible, the system has no intelligence and cannot learn.
Enough of that, I won’t bother arguing with this trivial system.
Cheng Guang decided to try a different approach in the future; for now, he had to cultivate.