"Frosty, that imperial edict has gone missing. Have you seen it in the room?"

Li Mo carried breakfast into the courtyard just as Ying Bing was intently examining a freshly washed pair of trousers nearby.

At the sound of his voice, the tips of her ears inexplicably turned the color of pink snow.

She lowered her gaze and shook her head:

"Haven't seen it."

"That's strange. Where could it have gone?"

Li Mo studied her carefully, suspecting that the mischievous Frosty had hidden it—but he had no proof.

"What's the big deal? Just write another one yourself later. You can word it however you like," Shang Qinqing said casually.

Qin Yuzhi also waved it off, as if it were the most natural thing:

"Jingtai was too careless—didn’t even write the date. Don’t worry, I’m well-versed in auspicious dates. As for the imperial seal, just carve one out of a radish."

"Can we really do this...?"

Li Mo absentmindedly pulled out a Snow Spirit Ginseng and a sickle.

"What’s the problem? The decree’s already been issued. This is just filling in the formalities."

Shang Qinqing couldn’t care less about forging an imperial edict.

Eager to witness a wedding night drenched in blood—perhaps even a casualty or two—she seemed every bit the demonic sect disciple.

Qin Yuzhi, the demonic sect’s grand elder, also saw no issue: "Come on, I’ll help you write it. Just prepare the seal. I’ve had that bright yellow fabric ready for ages."

No sooner said than done—she pulled out a roll of yellow satin from who-knows-where and began writing.

"Well... I guess that works."

The ever-gullible Li Mo felt something was off but couldn’t quite place it.

By the time he realized, the carved Snow Spirit Ginseng had already been stamped onto the "edict."

"Hmm?" Shang Qinqing blinked. "Does this seal look right, Yuzhi?"

"Absolutely. Even more authentic than Jingtai’s," Qin Yuzhi nodded approvingly.

Ying Bing glanced over, her jade-like face freezing in shock:

"‘Mandated by Heaven, eternal prosperity...’"

Li Mo: "??"

Lately, his mind seemed to have a will of its own.

He’d sensed something amiss before, but now it was even worse.

"Why would I write this? This isn’t my thought at all. What’s happening to me?"

Li Mo leaned back slightly. Was this normal?

A yellow robe was one thing, but now an imperial seal? Really?

"Something is off. You ascended the throne in the Sky Phoenix Realm far too naturally. No wonder you always preach ‘virtue as persuasion’..."

Shang Qinqing stroked her chin thoughtfully, forming a checkmark with her fingers as she mused:

"Virtue sure does smooth things over."

Li Mo: "..."

Qin Yuzhi suddenly grew solemn. "Actually, I just remembered something. In Great Shang, there was an emperor who faced a joint remonstrance from his ministers because he failed to maintain a proper harem..."

"??"

Li Mo’s scalp prickled. If they were unreliable, fine. If they were treasonous, fine. But this? Was this even a question worth asking?

Gurgle—

Hearing the sound, Li Mo turned.

Eyes as clear and deep as autumn water stared at him intently. A delicate hand emerged from her sleeve, picked up the vinegar dish on the table, and poured it into the tofu pudding.

The tofu pudding darkened into a horrified black. In that moment, both the sweet and savory factions felt their worlds collapse.

"Frosty, is this even edible now?" Li Mo’s scalp tingled with dread.

Ying Bing said calmly, "I can be very jealous."

Seeing her part her vermilion lips, actually about to take a sip, Li Mo swiftly shoved his own spoon into her mouth.

Frosty could melt into water, but into vinegar? That was unthinkable.

"By the way, Frosty, have you figured out what’s wrong with me?"

Li Mo had an inkling but wasn’t entirely sure.

"It’s the imperial fortune of Great Shang."

Ying Bing tasted the sweet tofu pudding, her furrowed brows relaxing:

"Imperial fortune was originally borne by an entire dynasty, distributed from the emperor to the nobility, then to the officials, granting them varying degrees of blessings—even influencing the heavens to ensure favorable weather. The price was the loss of immortality, and their emotions and desires were also affected."

"Simply put, imperial fortune is a key that unlocks many great paths, jointly held by the emperor and his nobles."

"Now, though fragmented, this key rests solely in your hands."

The spoonful of sweet tofu pudding proved unexpectedly effective, prying open Frosty’s lips.

"To hold so many great paths alone... wouldn’t that make you...?"

Li Mo thought of a certain kind of being.

A Celestial Immortal.

The Dream Ancestor, trapped in Qin Yuzhi’s body and the underground palace... The Blood God, lurking in the Sky Phoenix Realm, struggling between life and death...

Those who wielded multiple great paths rarely met good ends.

Every action resonated with the great path, subtly influencing their thoughts over time.

Eventually, it became unclear whether they controlled the path or became its vessel—a living slave to its power.

The thought ruined Li Mo’s appetite. He’d rather eat ice, train, and live like every day was New Year’s.

"I never wanted to be emperor!"

Seeing his crestfallen face, Ying Bing continued:

"It’s not as dire as you think. Most of the fortune now lies with Great Yu. What remains of Great Shang’s is already weak."

"Your inner world is unique, so you’ve barely been affected. Others around you have borne more of the influence."

"No wonder Sect Leader Shang and Elder Qin have been so... rebellious lately."

Li Mo nodded gravely. "This power and authority are dangerous."

Ying Bing gave them a resigned look:

"That’s not it. They’ve always been like this."

The higher one’s cultivation, the lesser the influence.

At the Seventh Realm, one would be entirely unaffected—let alone Qin Yuzhi, who once stood half a step from divinity, or Shang Qinqing, who once drew power from Great Shang’s fortune.

Li Mo: "..."

By now, he roughly knew the solution.

The answer lay within his inner world—the reason he’d barely been influenced, aside from his occasionally runaway mouth.

He looked down at the sickle in his hand, now devoid of any imperial or noble aura.

It wasn’t just imperial fortune. His crimson "All Mortals" realm suppressed all divine anomalies effortlessly.

All he needed was to strengthen his inner world.

"Frosty, let’s go."

"Where first?"

"Dan Ding Peak. It’s been a while since I last refined pills. If I can resist becoming the First Emperor, what’s a little imperial fortune to me?"

Li Mo brimmed with determination and downed the tofu pudding in one gulp.

Except his bowl had already been emptied by Frosty.

In the height of summer, he shuddered violently, his iron resolve thoroughly pickled by vinegar.

Ying Bing stood up with him, blinking. "You drank my vinegar."

Li Mo feigned composure. "Not sour at all."

"Wow, our Li Mo is so impressive. Such a high vinegar tolerance."

Ying Bing watched his twitching lips with mild exasperation. Whispering soothing words to the overgrown child, she offered her hand for him to hold.