The first morning court after ascending the throne.
Li An sat on the dragon throne.
He used to think, “Whoever wants to sit on it can sit on it.”
Now that he was actually sitting on it, he realized this thing was pretty hard. It hurt his backside.
The dragon robe was heavy too.
And those twelve dangling tassels on the imperial crown were especially annoying—the jade beads swayed back and forth in front of his eyes. He kept wanting to brush them aside, but it wouldn’t look proper.
Zhao Ling’er sat behind the curtain.
Now the newly appointed Empress, she no longer had to wear the dragon robe. Instead, she wore a phoenix coronet and embroidered robes.
Through the curtain, she watched Li An sitting stiffly on the throne, looking dazed. The smile on her lips simply wouldn’t fade.
Hongmei stood in another corner behind the curtain.
Her light red dress had been replaced by the formal attire of a Noble Consort.
Her face was expressionless.
But the curve at the corner of her eyes—if someone looked closely enough—was just a little softer than yesterday.
The civil and military officials stood in ranks on both sides and knelt in unison.
“Long live Our Emperor! Long live! Long, long live!”
The sound shook the Golden Hall.
Sitting above them, Li An nearly choked on the sound of his own swallowing.
He had seen scenes like this countless times in TV dramas.
But now that it was happening to him… why did it feel so unreal?
He cleared his throat and imitated Zhao Ling’er’s old tone.
“Rise, my ministers.”
The moment the five words left his mouth, he almost disgusted himself.
So greasy.
When Jin Daye stood up, his face practically spelled out “I share in this glory.”
His two gold teeth shone in the morning light, brighter than the gold foil on the palace pillars.
“Your Majesty!” Jin Daye’s booming voice echoed through half the Golden Hall. “This minister has urgent news to report!”
Li An’s heart tightened.
Urgent news on his first day?
“Reports from the frontier… The remnants of Northern Yan have retreated three hundred li in full rout. Yelü Xiong has been surrounded by our forces at Wild Goose Valley and is requesting peace talks!”
Li An blinked.
“What? Yelü Xiong is surrounded?”
“Yes!” Jin Daye grinned. “Our three thousand cavalry cut off his rear. Those Northern Yan troops have nowhere left to run!”
“And another matter!” Minister of Works Zhang Tiezhu stepped forward. “Your Majesty, mass production of the repeating crossbows is complete. The first five hundred units have been delivered to the front. Northern Yan’s so-called iron cavalry are like paper before our weapons.”
Good grief.
Vice Minister of Revenue Qian Xiaohai stepped forward as well, clearing his throat. “Your Majesty, I also have news. The work-relief program has been fully implemented. Over ninety percent of disaster victims across the provinces have been resettled. Tax revenue is expected to triple compared to last quarter. In addition… the five hundred thousand taels of gold loaned to the court last month by Her Excellency’s family…”
He glanced cautiously toward Liu Wanqing’s direction. “This minister has repaid it in full, with interest.”
Liu Banxian joined the fun, holding up his tortoise shell. “Your Majesty! I observed the heavens last night. The Ziwei Star shines brightly, and the Wenqu Star shifts eastward… It is a clear sign of a flourishing golden age!”
Li An looked at the group below and sighed inwardly.
When he had arranged for these people to infiltrate various ministries to sabotage things, he had never imagined—
They would all be this capable.
This loyal.
The landmines he had buried had all turned into flowers.
Nothing exploded. They just bloomed beautifully.
Before Li An could even process all this, the system interface silently appeared before him.
No one else could see it.
Only him.
Ding!
【Third cycle settlement countdown… 3… 2… 1…】
【Settlement begins!】
Lines of golden text unfurled before his eyes, as if someone were writing in midair with a gilded brush:
【Current stance: Great Qi Official (Strengthening Great Qi)】
【Initial National Fortune: 195,103】
【Final National Fortune: 312,479】
【Net Growth: +117,376】
【Reward Multiplier: ×100 taels of gold per point】
【Base Reward: 11,737,600 taels of gold】
Eleven million… seven hundred thirty-seven thousand six hundred taels?
Li An blinked hard.
He wasn’t mistaken.
Over eleven million taels of gold.
In this lifetime—no, across two lifetimes—he had never seen that much money.
But the system wasn’t finished.
The panel flickered.
Then a line of golden text he had never seen before appeared:
【Congratulations, Host! You have triggered the Ultimate Achievement: From Spy to Emperor!】
【Description: As a Northern Yan spy, you ascended the throne of Great Qi. Unprecedented in history.】
【Ultimate Achievement Multiplier: ×1000!】
Li An stopped breathing.
×1000?
Eleven million… multiplied by one thousand…
【Final Reward: 11,737,612,200 taels of gold!】
When that final number appeared, only one sound remained in Li An’s head.
Buzz.
Like a nuclear explosion inside his brain.
Over eleven billion taels of gold.
Converted into modern gold prices…
No.
There was no need to calculate.
This wasn’t about money anymore.
This was a national-level GDP.
A number greater than the total gold reserves of the entire planet.
He stared at the long string of shimmering digits, his mind nearly shutting down.
Below, ministers continued presenting reports.
Disaster relief updates.
Tax revenue figures.
Debates about responding to Northern Yan envoys.
But Li An couldn’t hear any of it.
He just stared at the number.
11.7 billion.
11.7 billion.
11.7 billion.
The corners of his mouth began twitching uncontrollably.
Then—
“Ha!”
The first laugh burst out of him.
Abrupt.
Short.
All the officials looked up in confusion.
“Ha ha!!”
The second laugh was louder.
Behind the curtain, Zhao Ling’er frowned and leaned forward.
Hongmei turned her head, concern flashing in her eyes.
“HAHAHAHAHA!!!”
The third laugh—
Was wild, unrestrained, roaring toward the heavens.
It rebounded from the dome of the Golden Hall and echoed again and again.
Everyone was stunned.
The new emperor… laughing wildly in the middle of court?
What kind of strategy was this?
Jin Daye’s first thought was: His Majesty must have conceived some brilliant plan to strengthen the nation.
Liu Banxian immediately pulled out his tortoise shell to divine an omen.
But Li An’s laughter abruptly stopped.
His body froze.
Without warning.
As if someone had pressed a shutdown button.
The smile still hung on his face.
But his body began to tilt forward.
Then—
He fell straight off the dragon throne.
Thud.
The dragon robe spread across the cold stone floor.
Several jade beads shattered and rolled away with crisp clinks.
The hall exploded into chaos.
“Your Majesty—!”
“Call the imperial physician!”
“Quick—!”
Zhao Ling’er rushed out first.
She tore down the curtain, her phoenix coronet askew.
Her steps stumbled across the tiles as she threw herself beside Li An.
Kneeling on the ground, she lifted his head onto her lap.
“Li An! Li An, wake up!”
Her voice trembled with fear.
No one had ever seen her like this.
She hadn’t cried during three years as a false emperor.
She hadn’t cried when arrows pierced her shoulder.
But now tears poured down instantly, splashing onto his dragon robe.
“Didn’t I tell you? You can’t escape.”
“You can’t leave me…”
Hongmei arrived almost in a blur.
She crouched and pressed two fingers to his neck.
There was a pulse.
But faint.
Very faint.
Her fingers trembled.
She had killed people.
Poisoned people.
Watched countless breaths fade.
Her hands had never shaken.
But now they did.
“Li An, you idiot. Wake up. You can’t let anything happen.”
Liu Wanqing rushed in from outside.
The moment she saw him on the ground, her legs nearly gave out.
“What happened? What happened—?”
She tried to grab his hand, but Hongmei blocked her.
They exchanged a glance.
Said nothing.
But everything was understood.
Jin Daye’s eyes turned red as he clutched Li An’s arm.
“My lord—no! Your Majesty! Don’t scare us like this!”
The entire court descended into chaos.
And Li An lay on the cold stone floor.
A faint smile still curved at his lips.
His consciousness completely gone.
…
Darkness.
Not the darkness of closed eyes.
But the kind where even the sense of “self” disappears.
No sound.
No light.
No temperature.
Just floating.
Who knew how long passed?
Ten seconds?
Ten minutes?
Ten years?
Then—
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
A steady electronic sound.
Soft.
Regular.
Like a machine at work.
Beep… beep… beep…
Li An recognized it.
This was…
A hospital heart monitor.
Then came smell.
The sharp, sterile scent of disinfectant.
Familiar.
Long-lost.
The smell that only existed in modern hospitals.
Li An suddenly opened his eyes.
What he saw first was…
A white ceiling.
White walls.
White sheets.
White curtains.
Above him, the fluorescent light he had longed for day and night was emitting a soft glow.
An IV tube was inserted in the back of his left hand, and transparent liquid dripped slowly, drop by drop.
On his right was a heart monitor, its waveform pulsing steadily.
He was lying on a perfectly standard hospital bed.
On a folding chair beside him sat a middle-aged man.
Balding.
Beer belly.
Wearing a wrinkled plaid shirt.
He held a thermos cup in one hand, scrolling through short videos on his phone with the other.
“Yo! Li An, you’re awake?”
The man put down his phone and leaned over with a smile.
Li An stared at him, dazed.
Several seconds passed, and he couldn’t recognize who the man was.
Finally, he asked in confusion: “You… who are you?”
The middle-aged man rolled his eyes. “Li An! You’ve gone completely senile as an undercover, huh? You don’t even recognize the boss who sent you to spy on the competitor?”
“I’m General Zhang! Last month I even gave you a five hundred yuan raise!”
“……”
Li An lay on the bed, his mind utterly chaotic.
Zhang sighed, took a sip of goji tea from his thermos, and plopped back into the folding chair.
“Li An, Li An… you take this spying job way too seriously. Seven days and nights of overtime, and you overworked yourself into a coma and ended up in the hospital.”
“The other side only pays you eight thousand yuan a month! What were you working so hard for?”
Li An opened his mouth.
No words came out.
The competitor company? Undercover? Seven days of overtime?
His brain raced, trying to make sense of it all.
“Oh, right.” Zhang suddenly remembered something, pulling a stack of papers from his briefcase. “The intel you sent back… you called that ‘top secret’?”
“I could’ve found it all online in five minutes.”
“You’ve been busting your ass for the competitor company, yet for the mission I gave you, it seems you were just slacking off?”
Li An slowly sat up on the bed.
The IV tugged, and a sharp sting ran across his hand.
He looked down at his hands.
No dragon robe.
No crown tassels.
No system interface.
Just two ordinary hands of a corporate drone who had been typing for years.
Sunlight streamed through the white curtains.
He could see the tall buildings outside.
Hear the blaring horns of traffic.
And the buzzing notifications of his phone.
He sat on the bed.
Took a deep breath.
The dazed look in his eyes gradually gained a glimmer of clarity.
So-called “traveling to Great Qi”…
National fortune system…
Zhao Ling’er, Hongmei, Liu Wanqing…
Selling offices, running the economy, fighting Northern Yan…
The Four Disasters, the coronation, the kneeling masses…
It had all been…
A dream he had while unconscious?
“A dream… it was all a dream…”
He lowered his head, feeling a strange emptiness.
That Zhao Ling’er who trusted him utterly.
That cold-but-warm-hearted Hongmei.
That naive Liu Wanqing.
That Jin Daye, shouting “Long live Lord Li.”
Zhang Tiezhu carrying the repeating crossbow.
Liu Banxian divining with a tortoise shell.
And loud-voiced Zhao Dadan.
None of them existed.
All were just his dream.
“Such a good dream… too short…”
Li An smiled bitterly, surprised that he even missed that dream world.
Zhang frowned at his expression. “You okay? Did your brain get fried? Should I call a doctor?”
“No need.”
Li An waved his hand. “I just… had a really realistic dream.”
“What kind of dream?”
“Dreamt I became emperor.”
“……”
Zhang paused for two seconds, then screwed the lid onto his thermos. “You’ve been working overtime too much. Eight-thousand-yuan-a-month people dreaming of being emperor? You even dream modestly!”
“I was emperor,” Li An murmured, “There was an empress, noble consorts…”
“Three thousand beauties! Bold imagination…”
Zhang teased with a laugh, “You, a single guy, dreaming of running a harem?”
“Not just a harem,” Li An said proudly, “I even won a battle. 130,000 against 200,000, and I won. Earned tons of gold…”
“Well, good for you,” Zhang sipped his goji tea, sarcastically. “How much gold did you earn in your dream? Let me tell you, during your coma, gold prices went crazy—over a thousand…”
“Not much! In my dream… I earned… over 11 billion taels of gold.”
Zhang immediately spit out his tea upon hearing the number. “You… in your dream, you went all out—11 billion taels of gold! You could buy the entire planet with that!”
Zhang wiped his mouth, disgusted, “You’d better rest. Your brain is definitely fried. When you’re discharged, hand in that resignation letter to the competitor company and come back to work here.”
“Okay.” Li An responded weakly.
Zhang stood, brushed the dust off his pants. “By the way, you were in a coma for three days. Your mom called—I made up a business trip excuse. Remember to call her when you’re discharged.”
“Mm.”
“And I covered the hospital fees for now. Will deduct from your salary later. Don’t forget.”
“Mm.”
Zhang walked a couple of steps out, then glanced back. “Seriously, don’t overwork like that again. If you lose yourself, you have nothing.”
With that, Zhang closed the door.
The ward fell silent.
Only the beep of the heart monitor remained.
Li An ignored him.
He leaned back, gazing at the sky outside.
The sky over Beijing.
Gray and hazy.
Different from Great Qi’s sky.
Great Qi’s sky… was blue.
Blue and clear.
That’s the color he saw when he closed his eyes on the dragon throne.
Oh well.
The dream’s over.
Time to be a good little corporate drone again.
Undercover work is still just working for someone else.
Ancient or modern—it’s all the same.
He was about to lie back and accept it when—
Ding!
In his mind.
Suddenly.
Without warning.
A voice he knew extremely well sounded.
Li An’s body stiffened.
As if electrocuted.
【System Notice: Host Li An.】
【This Transmigration Mission Rating: SSS (Perfect).】
【Mission Summary: As a Northern Yan spy in Qi, spanning three cycles, rise from top scholar to emperor, completing the ultimate reversal from a fallen nation to a strong one.】
【Achievement Bonus: From Spy to Emperor (×1000 multiplier)】
【Total Rewards Earned: 11,737,612,200 taels of gold.】
【System is arranging delivery. Please check.】
Li An jumped up from the hospital bed.
The IV tube was ripped out.
Blood seeped from his hand.
But he didn’t care.
“System?!”
“You’re real?!”
“Not a dream?!”
“Gold?! Where?! How is it delivered?!!”
At that moment, the TV in the ward flickered.
The soap opera on air vanished.
In its place appeared an urgent news report.
A red ticker scrolled rapidly at the bottom.
A female anchor’s face appeared, her expression somewhere between shock and awe:
“Dear viewers, urgent broadcast!”
“The International Space Station and multiple global observatories have simultaneously confirmed… an unusual celestial object is rapidly approaching Earth!”
“Spectral analysis confirms…”
The anchor paused, seemingly in disbelief herself.
“The primary component of this object is… gold. Extremely high purity gold.”
“Preliminary estimates suggest the total amount of gold is approximately…”
A number appeared on the screen.
Li An saw it.
11,737,612,200 taels.
Exactly the same as on the system panel in his mind.
Not a fraction off.
Li An’s smile froze.
The anchor continued:
“According to joint tracking by multiple space agencies, the trajectory of the object has been locked…”
“Estimated impact location…”
The screen switched to a world map.
A giant red cross.
Right on target…
Beijing.
“Experts indicate that, given the current speed and trajectory…”
“This object will reach Earth within 24 hours…”
The screen suddenly froze.
Then…
Snow.
Fzzzz…
Signal lost.
The ward fell silent.
Sunlight still streamed in.
Birds still chirped.
Cars still drove along the streets.
Li An sat at the bedside, bare feet on the cold floor.
He looked at the snowy TV screen.
In his mind, the system panel slowly appeared with one final line of text.
Golden.
Shimmering.
【Delivery Method: Airdrop.】
“Alright then.”
“Two lifetimes…”
“In the end…”
“The gold really is mine.”
“Just… the delivery method is a bit problematic! System…”
Outside.
In the sky.
A tiny light.
Far, far away.
Visible to the naked eye, moving at incredible speed.
Growing brighter.
Growing bigger.
…
(The End of the Book)
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