After Ji Chenxi met up with Chi Zhuo, he first hacked into Chen Xing’s robots. Then he stayed in constant contact with Gu Hechuan, even using Gu Hechuan’s starship to check on Chen Xing’s situation.
He couldn’t hack into the artificial humans at all. Their structure was very different from robots, and the way they took orders wasn’t the same either. Ji Chenxi had originally been ready to give up—until he noticed the modified human beside Chen Xing. That guy was clearly someone whose body had been almost completely altered except for his brain.
So Ji Chenxi took a near reckless gamble and used his spiritual power remotely to sway that person.
The odds of success were extremely low. The reason it worked was probably because Chen Xing hadn’t fully trusted that modified human from the start. The guy clearly still had a human brain, but inside his body there was also a system similar to that of a robot.
Chen Xing’s own caution ended up becoming the final push.
At this moment, Ji Chenxi’s spiritual domain was injured, but the result was good. Still, facing Chi Zhuo, he couldn’t help feeling a little guilty.
Just one simple “Does it still hurt?” made that guilt even worse.
Without saying much, he pulled Chi Zhuo closer and pressed a kiss onto his lips. The kiss carried a faint smell of blood and was far from pleasant, yet it was unexpectedly gentle.
“You know this is the best outcome,” Ji Chenxi said softly after pulling away, trying to defend himself a little.
“I also know I don’t want to see you get hurt,” Chi Zhuo said, brushing his fingers over Ji Chenxi’s lips that had only recently been stained with blood. His tone left no room for refusal. “Last time.”
No one knew whether that “last time” was meant for Ji Chenxi—or for himself.
Ji Chenxi could only stay silent. It was hard for anyone to guarantee they’d never get hurt again. He could only say he’d try his best not to end up in a situation like today again.
He didn’t give himself much time to recover his aching spiritual domain. Instead, he followed Chi Zhuo in reorganizing the internal structure of the palace, purging everyone with hidden intentions in one sweep. As for the accusations tied to him because of his alliance with Chi Zhuo, Ji Chenxi ignored them completely.
Ji Zhiqing’s death had been a trap set by Chen Xing for Ji Chenxi, meant to use the First and Second Legions to restrain him. Now, one legion was being held down by their own people, and the other had its commander killed by Ji Chenxi on the spot—no longer a threat.
Snakes swarming everywhere, all vying for the throne. Tonight was destined to be a night soaked in blood.
Ji Chenxi had never been like this before—killing, intimidating, everything done in one smooth flow, leaving no way back for anyone.
By the time everything was finally handled, it was already very late.
The entire palace was brightly lit, glowing like daytime. Ji Chenxi almost didn’t realize it was about to dawn.
Darkness faded. Dawn was approaching.
With iron-blooded methods, Ji Chenxi had already shaken many people. He pressed on through a splitting headache and exhaustion, dealing with the rebel forces, and then handling the deaths of his father and sister.
A pile of mess was laid out in front of him. And after all that hard work, there were still people saying he was too young, that the position suited the First Prince better. Some even mocked him, claiming he himself had started the rebellion and then framed the Second Princess—after all, his second sister was already dead. Who launches a coup and dies at the very beginning?
To that, Ji Chenxi only gave a cold laugh. He was never a good-tempered person to begin with. He had already been forcing himself to deal with this mess patiently, and now, anyone who provoked him just made him want to go insane.
Before he actually lost control, Chi Zhuo stopped him in time. Too many people had already died. Over-suppressing the noble families would only cause panic. It was better to take things slowly. Even if they were going to dismantle their power, it had to be done step by step.
“Does anyone still have objections? Speak now together,” Chi Zhuo said coldly.
He stood beside the throne at a slightly elevated position—looking like a guard, yet also like someone controlling Ji Chenxi in his hands.
This was exactly why many people didn’t want Ji Chenxi to take the throne. The young prince was still too young—only eighteen, an overly tender age. He barely had his own power or network. Who knew if he was just being pushed onto the throne as a puppet emperor by Chi family’s Chi Zhuo?
But the moment Chi Zhuo spoke, no one dared object.
By now, everyone had seen Chi Zhuo’s terrifying strength. They all knew he had been hiding it the whole time. Privately raising such a force—if that wasn’t rebellion, what was? And that giant python had been seen by everyone. Chi Zhuo was absolutely not just an ordinary S-rank.
Was this a plan to kill one to warn a hundred?
Just as everyone felt uneasy, the man they considered ambitious beyond reason was the first to kneel before Ji Chenxi.
“Your Majesty, good day. May dawn be with you.”
The most dangerous figure in this rebellion had knelt first. What could the others do?
Some people looked up at the young ruler on the throne.
He was young, beautiful—but those words like “kind-hearted” had nothing to do with him. He was young, yes, but also cruel and bloodthirsty.
A black mamba snake as thick as a thumb slowly climbed up the throne, winding itself toward Ji Chenxi’s neck. Beauty and venom, danger and killing intent—yet Ji Chenxi didn’t even glance at it. He calmly pressed the restless snake down with his fingers.
“I don’t have time to waste with you,” he said. “Obey, or die. If you don’t behave, there are plenty of people waiting to take your place. Of course, enough blood has already been shed tonight. I’d still prefer everyone to be sensible.”
“Hah! Though the Third Highness is the legitimate heir, which emperor hasn’t gone through trials and hardships to reach the throne? Now that you’re relying on outside help to seize power, aren’t you afraid people won’t accept you?”
“Accept?” Ji Chenxi chuckled lightly. “Do I need anyone’s acceptance? Since I am the only direct heir, then regardless of whether I personally suppressed this rebellion, I should be the one sitting on this throne. As for relying on outside help—tell me, who here is truly alone? If I remember correctly, you’re from the faction supporting my second sister. I didn’t come looking for trouble with you, yet you came to me first. No more words—if you don’t accept it, come fight me. If not, then kneel and submit!”
By the end, Ji Chenxi’s eyes had turned completely cold. He genuinely didn’t mind a full purge.
At his words, the heads of the Su family and Gu family were the first to kneel.
“Your Majesty, good day. May dawn be with you.”
Under Ji Chenxi’s cold gaze, more and more people knelt down. One after another, the phrase “May dawn be with you” echoed throughout the entire palace.
Hello, everyone ヾ(＾∇＾). I hope you enjoyed the story! If you’re feeling generous, please buy me a coffee, share/comment on my translated works! Check out the link below for early chapters. (๑>ᴗ<๑)
