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The Royal Wastrel

The Eleventh Prince had always been a worthless wastrel. Arrogant, untalented, stupid, shortsighted, selfish, greedy, cowardly, lazy, untrustworthy and abhorrently lustful. Born the shame of the empire; a bane to noble, dutiful wives and daughters everywhere. A failure of a cultivator. A fool. A wastrel. The world had watched him mature, yet now it looks on with growing concern. Na Wei, the disgrace of the Na dynasty, now stalks the many lands of Fanghu, his pursuits confounding wise men; his allegiance eluding the grasp of even divinities. None can fathom his intentions. Just what does he seek?​

Raven_Aelwood · Fantasie
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14 Chs

PROLOGUE (2)

The Plot Twist​

The time to depart came quicker than I expected.

With a bamboo staff in hand, I bid farewell to my predecessor's family, who gathered under some blossoming cherry trees to see me off. My companions did the same and we soon set off. The road to Jinqiao was a long yet mundane dirt path, winding through bamboo forests and terraced fields, past overgrown shrines and moss-covered stone bridges. We encountered very few people on our journey west, and even those we did meet we barely exchanged words with. Time passed and soon, we could see the outline of a port city in the distance, a tranquil jade-green river winding through the valley behind it.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky with hues of vermillion and gold, we reached the outskirts of Jinqiao. The city sprawled before us like a flood dragon stirring from slumber. In its heart, I quickly found myself amidst a labyrinthine network of narrow streets and bustling markets. The city's architecture was a fusion of ornate wooden pagodas and majestic stone edifices adorned with intricate carvings that depicted some obscure legends and myths that I found familiar but couldn't place. Everywhere I looked, vibrant banners and lanterns swayed in the gentle breeze.

"...We need to find a place to rest for the night," I tell my companions, somehow managing to wrestle my eyes away from the scenery. Focus! I reminded myself, It is beautiful, yes, just don't forget it is absolutely crawling with cultivators. One wrong move and someone might just smite you for looking at them funny … at least that was how the novels depicted it.

Still, no point in taking unnecessary risks.

"You are right," Li Shen said as Ma Yili nodded in agreement. After searching for a while, we finally—with the help of a kindly street vendor—found a modestly priced inn somewhere downtown.

Inside the inn, we were greeted by a plump innkeeper named Madam Lin, who offered us steaming bowls of fragrant jasmine tea. "You must be new to Jinqiao," she said, her eyes crinkling with warmth. "I can see the awe in your eyes. What brings you to our city, youngins?"

Li Shen began speaking before I could preempt him, recounting our journey from Baiyun and his lofty ambition to participate in the Great Trials. The woman listened intently so as to not be impolite, but I doubted she truly wished for him to give such a detailed recounting of our journey. Soon, however, the blabbermouth seized his ranting and the innkeeper was able to show us to our rooms.

Before she left however I managed to get the directions to the venue for the Great Trials.

***​

The next day, before the break of dawn, we left the inn. Apparently, the Great Trials had already begun; five days ago if the innkeeper and the few dozen other bystanders I overheard gossiping about it since we arrived were to be believed. Still, it was no issue. The organisers of the event were very much cognizant of the fact that participants from all over the province would be in attendance, which could mean some might not even arrive until two, or even three, weeks from the first day.

That didn't mean, however, that either of us was willing to drag our feet on the matter. At least, neither Li Shen nor I was; Ma Yili didn't care for the Great Trials nor did she truly intend to participate, simply tagging along because we insisted she did so.

We soon arrived at a large, levelled field. The floor was unnaturally even and hard making it easy to tell it was mostly likely conjured by a cultivator. Already, a large crowd had gathered in the clearing, their collective muttering reaching my ears as a dissonant buzz. Ma Yili waited outside the clearing with the rest of the bystanders while Li Shen and I joined the crowd standing before a raised podium.

I pointedly avoided staring at the cultivators on the.

Again, no point in taking unnecessary risks.

We waited for a while, and then, suddenly, the crowd started to stir.

"What's going on?" Li Shen asked, shouting beside my ear so he could be heard over the din.

"How would I know?" I hissed back, wincing as I pulled away from him.

"Uhn? I didn't get that!" he shouted again.

"I don't know!" I shouted back. Thankfully, this time, he got the message and backed away.

The din continued to rise, but I still couldn't tell what was going on. The crowd had grown a bit since we arrived, boxing us in. All around us shoulders and elbows pressed into our sides and backs; it was a very uncomfortable experi—

"SILENCE!"

The clearing immediately fell silent as the chi-imbued words rippled across the crowd. I found, to my great discomfort, that I couldn't even speak if I wanted to.

Cultivators are terrifying.

The enforced quietude persisted for a long moment before the voice that had spoken spoke again.

"KNEEL!" the speaker ordered.

Against my better judgement, I subconsciously tried fighting the sensation. Thankfully, I failed, plopping to the ground on both knees like a puppet with its strings cut.

With everyone suddenly on their knees, my view of the podium was no longer obstructed. There, eight heavily armoured, sword-bearing men slowly carried a palanquin adorned with intricate jade carvings and silk curtains of deep crimson and gold up the wooden stairs of the podium before carefully dropping it at the centre. The silk curtains of the palanquin remained unfolded, obscuring the identity of the one within.

I froze.

Something was wrong.

Only royalty was allowed, by law, to travel in a silk-clad palanquin.

…What was a royal doing this far east? I asked myself.

"Behold, ye fair people of Jinqiao," the speaker, a court official attached to the royal's escort, declared, his chi-infused voice resonating across the clearing, "the bearer of the Mandate of the Yellow River, the eleventh son of our dynasty, our beloved Prince Na Wei has arrived!"

What is the wastrel doing here? I wondered to myself, not liking the sudden development. Is this the butterfly effect? Well, that's bullshit! How am I supposed to exploit my knowledge of the plot if everything changes before I even get the chance to do anything?

One of the palanquin curtains slid open and a dainty, pale hand stretched out, gesturing towards the court official. The fellow quickly scurried towards the extended appendage, crouching as he brought his ears to rest beside the gap in the silk curtain.

The official nodded as he apparently received instructions from the one within, his head bobbing frantically. The next moment he hurriedly scurried back to the front of the podium.

"Ye fair people of Jinqiao," the official began again, "his royal Highness comes bearing a request; that you might help him find three noble benefactors of his. Their names…

"...Li Shen!

'Ma Yili!

"And Dai Wei!

"Anyone who can help find them shall have His Royal Highness… in their debt!"

.

.

.

…What the fuck?

It was the sudden murmur rippling through the crowd that alerted me to the fact that whatever compulsion was used to silence the crowd had been lifted. I turned around moments too late to see Li Shen on his feet waving at the official in front.

No!

"I am Li Shen!" the fool shouted before turning to point an accusing finger at me, a stupid smile plastered on his face.

"That's my friend, Dai Wei!"

Who is your dog friend, you stupid bastard?! Why are you drawing that sick sadist's attention towards me?!

My soul suddenly felt empty as the official's surprised gaze swivelled to single me out of the crowd. Numbly, I registered the fool calling out to Ma Yili.

"...Come forward then," the official replied hesitantly, seemingly unsure what to do. For a moment, I consider making a break for it and dragging Ma Yili with me as I flee before quickly squashing the idea. I am not sure why or how the royal waste knows about us but ignoring a direct from a court official acting on a prince's behalf was tantamount to committing suicide in a very fancy, roundabout manner. It's not as if we could escape from all the cultivators here anyway. So, grudgingly, I made my way to the front, ignoring both Li Shen's stupid smile and Ma Yili's confused expression.

We arrive in front of the palanquin and all knelt before it. Slowly, the red silk curtain was pulled aside and the silhouette within slowly became visible. The prince was as handsome as he was described in the books. Despite apparently being in his early seventies, he still looked to be in his early twenties thanks to both his cultivation and superior bloodline significantly slowing his ageing process—

Cultivation was bullshit!—His glossy lips were a rosy red colour, and his eyes were a limpid fiery brown that reminded me of dead autumn leaves. An Adam apple bulged slightly in his throat as the only tangible proof that I could find aside from a glaring lack of cleavage that he was a man. His hair was glossy, straight and jet-black, unlike the matte mess on my head, and it was styled into a fancy ponytail held together by on large ornate gold hairpin.

And it was with a dreadful realisation that I found the prince was staring solely at me. His eyes narrowed, fixed against mine with an intensity that chilled my spine.

"Hello, Tony Xian," he spoke, calling me by my real name.

…Calling me by a name no one in this world ought to ever know.

Worse, he hadn't spoken in Yǎnjiǎng, the native tongue of this land, nor Mandarin.

He had spoken in English.

A warm smile blossomed on the prince's face and I felt the cold dread settling into the pit of my stomach grow heavier. The prince's eye flickered to the dull unadorned ring on my right index finger before flickering back to my face.

"I believe you have something of mine," he said, leaning back into his seat.

…Oh shit.

Creation is hard, cheer me up!

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