Who would have thought he’d turn it into a perfect excuse, flipping the situation to his advantage? It was such a plausible yet unverifiable reason.

One word: impressive!

She smiled on the surface, but inwardly, she continued mythologizing herself. "Little Pearl, was Emperor Mingxi’s dream really conjured by Master? Didn’t he tell me to keep a low profile while cultivating in the mortal realm?"

[Master, it likely wasn’t the Divine Lord. It might have been this world’s Heavenly Dao acting to save itself. After all, in ten years, the Great Yan Dynasty will fall, triggering the division of the empire among three factions and plunging the five kingdoms into endless strife.

This would mark the beginning of over three centuries of warfare, with casualties numbering in the tens of millions.

The victims wouldn’t just be commoners—countless nobles, high-ranking officials, and those with great virtue would perish, weakening the Heavenly Dao’s power and possibly even erasing its consciousness.

Since you’ve descended into this world for your tribulation, and you possess the ability to prevent this catastrophe, wouldn’t it make sense for the Heavenly Dao to send the emperor a prophetic dream?

Didn’t you hear Wei Ping mention it was a dream from three years ago? That timing aligns perfectly with your arrival in this realm.]

Yue Fuguang feigned displeasure. "But I don’t want to interfere. The Great Yan Dynasty has too many internal issues. Even an immortal would struggle to save them if they refuse to fix their own problems."

The system deliberately replied nonchalantly, [Then don’t interfere. No matter what happens, with me here, no one can harm you in the slightest.]

Wei Ping and the Yu Family members listening to their exchange felt their hearts sink. Not only was the threat of their nation’s collapse in ten years hanging over their heads, but even if they survived, they’d face three centuries of war—a fate their descendants would endure for at least a dozen generations.

In such conditions, they might not even have descendants left after so many generations.

As the old saying goes, "Better a dog in peace than a man in war." The thought of living through such chaos made them wish they could die when the dynasty fell rather than endure it.

Yet, knowing that someone capable of averting this disaster stood before them, they barely restrained themselves from begging Yue Fuguang on their knees—were it not for the emperor’s gag order.

As for her reluctance due to the dynasty’s internal problems, they wanted to scream: They’d change! Whatever she pointed out, they’d fix immediately. And if anyone dared obstruct them, they were certain Emperor Mingxi would remind those fools just how sharp his blade still was.

Wei Ping, who had originally planned to stay and curry favor with Yue Fuguang in hopes of uncovering more corrupt officials, could no longer sit still.

He hastily bid farewell and rushed straight to the palace, determined to report everything he’d just heard to the emperor.

His Majesty needed to find a way to demonstrate the Great Yan Dynasty’s resolve in addressing its internal issues—to convince the Grand Preceptor to lend a helping hand to the nation she now lived in.

Watching his hurried departure, Yue Fuguang couldn’t resist teasing the system. "Little Pearl, what’s gotten into Lord Wei? He left in such a rush, as if chased by dogs."

[Master, mortals often say there are three urgent needs. Perhaps Lord Wei suddenly needed to relieve himself?]

Wei Ping, still within earshot, stumbled mid-step. If not for his steady footing, he might have face-planted right there.

He quickened his pace, feeling as if lingering any longer would burn a hole through his back.

Yet, once the embarrassment faded, he felt relieved. Though the divine artifact had mocked him, it also provided a plausible excuse for his abrupt exit, diverting the Grand Preceptor’s sharp mind from noticing his odd behavior.

One or two slip-ups might go unnoticed, but too many would risk exposure—especially since these two were no ordinary beings, and supernatural explanations wouldn’t seem far-fetched to them.

"The Grand Preceptor truly said that?" Emperor Mingxi was stunned after hearing Wei Ping’s report. Yesterday, he’d only learned of the Great Yan Dynasty’s impending collapse in ten years—not the subsequent division among three factions and the three centuries of war that would follow.

With such prolonged chaos, no one could guarantee their lineage’s survival.

This was no longer just about the imperial family. Even if not for themselves, for the sake of their descendants, every official in court would have to contribute—or step aside for those who could.

If you’re incompetent, make way for those who aren’t!

Though they had ten years, governing a vast empire meant policies couldn’t be implemented nationwide overnight.

And with the grand court assembly tomorrow, Wei Ping was right—the emperor and his ministers had to show sincerity if they hoped to earn her favor.

Just the introduction of superior crop strains alone could elevate the Great Yan Dynasty’s strength to unimaginable heights.

More food meant more people—and more people meant both labor and soldiers.

Without hesitation, Emperor Mingxi commanded, "Qian Gui, summon those ministers for me at once." It was time for him and his officials to deliberate carefully.

The shrewd eunuch Qian Gui needed no further explanation—he knew exactly which ministers the emperor meant.

Shortly after the court session ended and the officials had barely settled into their offices after their midday meal, news of the emperor's summons arrived.

From a distance, the assembled ministers recognized each other—ah, the same familiar faces from yesterday. They had a rough idea why the emperor had called them so abruptly.

This summons was likely related to the newly appointed Junior Preceptor. But what exactly had happened during Wei Ping's mission to warrant such urgency?

As the summoned officials departed, those left behind exchanged uneasy glances—especially those who had once enjoyed the emperor's favor. Had they fallen out of grace?

They racked their brains, trying to recall any recent missteps that might have displeased the emperor. Being excluded from yesterday’s private banquet was one thing, but today’s summons repeated the same selection—what did it mean?

Could something have transpired without their knowledge?

The situation was impossible to ignore. Among those summoned were not only the emperor’s most trusted advisors but also the semi-retired Senior Mr. Yu and his seemingly unremarkable third son, Yu Qinchun.

Unlike his elder brother Yu Zhongchun, who had long held the emperor’s favor, Yu Qinchun had never distinguished himself. Yet now, both father and sons were summoned twice in a row—was the Yu Family rising to prominence?

Moreover, at yesterday’s banquet, both the emperor and the empress dowager had shown unusual regard for the Yu Family’s adopted daughter.

Her seat had even been placed directly below the Crown Prince’s, and the prince himself had appeared quite attentive toward her.

Were it not for the fact that the Crown Prince was already betrothed and the Yu Family’s seventh daughter still too young, one might have suspected the emperor and empress dowager were considering her as a future crown princess.

And now, she had been appointed Junior Preceptor—a position left vacant for decades, unfilled even during the late emperor’s reign.

Could it be that the Yu Family’s three men owed their newfound favor to the influence of a mere girl?