The Whole Empire Raises Me - Chapter 19

 

Chapter 19

These past seven days for Wen Xingze could be described as both intense and scorching.

He had to film scenes, deal with the ever-present media, read upcoming scripts in advance, and get along with the lemon Blood Clan parents who could start at any moment. (Note: 柠檬 [Níngméng] = lemon, used to describe someone who gets jealous easily, kinda like vinegar 醋 because sourness is a trait associated with jealousy)

Indeed, just like what Lan had said, the Soul Casket would send a prince’s soul every day. After Lan, it was Lilith and the other princes, each allowed to stay for three hours…

Although everyone had different personalities — like Os, who was irritable, Soren and Lilith, who were calm and collected, and Isabella, who was gentle and reserved — the one common trait they all shared was intense jealousy.

However, Wen Xingze didn’t dislike this feeling.

Before this, he could only chat with the Dragon Clan parents on WeChat after 7 p.m. Even though he knew many citizens silently accompanied him, in reality, he still lived alone. And Wen Xingze had grown accustomed to solitude.

The arrival of the Blood Clan parents brought about change, they seemed to sense something.

Even though Wen Xingze had never openly declared his loneliness.

Starting tomorrow, they would change filming locations. Xu Qianqian and Zhu Bo had already gone ahead, but Wen Xingze still had filming tasks, so he would set off into the mountains this evening.

After wrapping up work, Wen Xingze first went to the flower shop to pick up a pre-ordered bouquet. When he arrived at his room, he found that his suitcase had already been packed. They even thoughtfully organized a small bag with insect repellent and sunscreen for the journey.

Os was curled up on the sofa, holding the comic magazine that Wen Xingze had bought for him. His fiery red hair was tied up with a hairband, and he scowled, saying, “I didn’t pack the suitcase.”

Wen Xingze: “…”

Over the past seven days, starting with Lan, every prince who visited would ask the same question: “Who do you really like?” Of course, Wen Xingze couldn’t answer that he liked one more than the other; he could only say that he liked them all.

Soren and Isabella were manageable, but younger ones like Lan and Os were harder to handle.

Thankfully, Wen Xingze had figured out what to do. He crouched down and rummaged through the small backpack. “Os, I bought a bag of plum liqueur chocolates earlier. Do you know where they are?”

“Why would I know?” Os huffed. “Maybe they’re in the transparent pouch in the left compartment of your backpack.”

Wen Xingze glanced at him.

Os slapped the comic magazine onto his face, feigning indifference. “I didn’t pack the suitcase. I just happened to — oh.”

A chocolate was stuffed into his mouth.

Plum liqueur flavor — Os’s favorite.

Although spirits didn’t need to eat, they could still taste flavors. Wen Xingze didn’t like alcohol, so he bought these chocolates specifically for Os. After finishing work in the morning, he had run two blocks to find this shop.

“Next time you come, I’ll treat you to a different flavor,” Wen Xingze ruffled his hair. Even though he couldn’t physically touch the spirit, it felt soft and fluffy. “Don’t be mad, okay?”

After a strange silence.

At first, Os remained expressionless, like a central processing robot. But after about five seconds, his ears turned slightly red.

Then Os started rolling on the sofa.

Next, Os transformed into a small bat, darting around the room and banging his head against the pillows.

Finally, Os glared at Wen Xingze fiercely and said, “I’m still angry! I don’t feel happy! … And don’t you dare buy chocolates for Soren when he comes tomorrow!”

Wen Xingze replied, “Alright, I won’t buy any for him.”

Os finally seemed satisfied.

At that moment, the three-hour time limit of the Soul Box happened to expire. With a loud pop, Os vanished from the spot.

Wen Xingze quietly added the second half of his sentence, “Because Soren likes marshmallows.”

In another universe, Os, who was proudly showing off to the other princes: “…”

Other princes: “Haha.”

Soren: “Haha.”

________________________

At 7:30 in the evening, atop Song Mountain, the lights illuminated the night as if it were daytime.

Only the crew of Encounter with the Dragon occupied this mountain. The art department had set up the scenery three months in advance, and everything had been completed thoroughly last week. They were here to film the climax of Encounter with the Dragon.

Xu Qianqian and Zhu Bo had arrived last night and were probably already filming. Wen Xingze had expected to camp out, but luckily, there were guesthouses on the mountain. Although not four-star accommodations, they were still clean and comfortable.

After briefly organizing his luggage, Wen Xingze headed toward the set.

Even before reaching the set, Wen Xingze could tangibly feel the terrifying popularity of Chi Yan.

Outside the set, reporters clung to their equipment, microphones in hand. The entire crew of Encounter with the Dragon, including both staff and actors, stood waiting eagerly.

It was like a massive fan gathering.

“A'Ze,” Xu Qianqian’s assistant, wearing a work badge around her neck, stood at the entrance waiting for him. “This way!”

Wen Xingze squeezed through the crowd with difficulty and finally breathed a sigh of relief upon entering the set.

“Why are there so many people?” Wen Xingze couldn’t help but exclaim.

Zhu Bo was also a popular rising star, and Xu Qianqian had a good following. However, they hadn’t experienced such a scene during their previous shoots at the film studio. Plus, this was a remote mountain location.

It could only mean one thing: Chi Yan was truly remarkable.

The young assistant shrugged. “There were even more during the day. This is just the group that stayed behind after lunch… Ah, we’re here.”

Inside the set, a group of photographers carried equipment, while other crew members held laptops and boxed lunches. Even amidst the crowd, Chi Yan stood out the most

They seemed to have just finished shooting a scene, but it must have been an NG.

Chi Yan sat in the director’s chair, a pair of glasses perched on his nose. The lenses reflected icy points of light, cold and aloof.

With one hand loosely gripping the script, he sat behind the camera.

Zhu Bo and Xu Qianqian stood before Chi Yan, heads hanging low like two schoolchildren being scolded, listening to his instructions.

Outside the set, crew members tried to squeeze in for a glimpse of the legendary Chi Yan. However, the crew inside seemed unimpressed, having already witnessed Chi Yan’s authoritative demeanor.

Wen Xingze thought to himself, ‘Truly remarkable, this is indeed Chi Yan.’

After another two minutes, Zhu Bo walked dejectedly toward the rest area, leaving Xu Qianqian to continue receiving instructions. Wen Xingze handed Zhu Bo a bottle of cold water, and Zhu Bo gulped down half of it, wiping his face. “Wuwuwu.”

Wen Xingze asked, “What’s wrong, bro?”

“Seven years in the industry, and today I realized I might not know how to act,” Zhu Bo said, looking lost. “Why did it turn out like this? Meeting Chi Yan for the first time, and then him directing me for the first time — it should have been double happiness. But why does it feel like this now…”

He was really going full-on 2D.

Wen Xingze noticed that Zhu Bo loved playing with old clichés, just like Xu Qianqian.

Wen Xingze: “What exactly happened?”

Zhu Bo sighed heavily. “It’s like this.”

Encounter with the Dragon doesn’t primarily focus on romance, but there is a subtle emotional thread between the male and female leads. Those who have read the original work know that this emotional thread is masterfully crafted. The author excels at portraying deep and nuanced emotions, whether it’s the relationship between the Immortal Lord and Heng Zhi or the chemistry between the male and female protagonists.

Currently, they're filming a pivotal scene in the relationship between the male and female leads. The female lead has secretly loved the male lead for years, emphasizing a restrained and profound affection.

However, Xu Qianqian, having acted in too many idol dramas before, tends to express passionate love openly but struggles with conveying subtle emotions.

Director Zheng might have skipped over this part, but unfortunately, Director Chi is known for being the strictest among all directors.

Surprisingly, Wen Xingze was taken aback because all of Chi Yan’s previous films had minimal romantic scenes, focusing more on themes related to country and duty.

He hadn’t expected such high demands for romantic scenes from Chi Yan. It was challenging for Wen Xingze to associate Chi Yan with romance.

“How many NGs did you have?” Wen Xingze looked at Zhao Bo, who seemed utterly drained, triggering memories of the fear he once felt under Chi Yan’s strict control.

Zhu Bo replied, “We broke Director Zheng’s record — probably around nineteen times? I’ve lost count.”

Wen Xingze: “…”

The two sat in the rest area, their expressions heavy and speechless.

Soon, the scene discussion seemed to be coming to an end. Xu Qianqian looked dazedly toward the rest area, and Wen Xingze and Zhu Bo immediately waved and cheered her on. Xu Qianqian’s eyes regained some sparkle.

Suddenly, Chi Yan noticed Xu Qianqian’s distraction. He paused, then followed her gaze toward the rest area. Zhao Bo and Wen Xingze appeared quite familiar, chatting and laughing

Zhu Bo quickly withdrew his hand, nonchalantly whistling, while Wen Xingze lagged behind, muttering, “Damn it!”

Caught off guard, Wen Xingze locked eyes with Chi Yan.

Chi Yan’s eyes were a deep, intense shade, like obsidian. When he focused, it was impossible to guess his emotions.

He stared fixedly at Wen Xingze.

Embarrassed, Wen Xingze raised his hand, unsure whether to wave or put it down. Finally, he hesitantly extended his other hand and formed a heart shape, signaling his affection.

Xu Qianqian: “…”

Chi Yan: “…”

Chi Yan clutched the script, creasing the paper’s edges, but he quickly noticed and released his grip.

Too adorable! Xu Qianqian and the surrounding crew were all struck by this unexpected display, clutching their hearts. No one could resist Wen Xingze’s heart gesture.

Xu Qianqian glanced at Chi Yan, who remained unfazed and unemotional, and was utterly shocked to categorize him as “beyond human.”

Chi Yan shifted his gaze away and made a gesture.

“A'ze, Director Chi wants to see you.” The assistant director, wiping sweat, hurried over.

Wen Xingze pointed to himself. “Me?”

The assistant director nodded vigorously.

It felt like being caught using a phone during evening study hall and being called out for a private scolding.

Zhu Bo affectionately handed Wen Xingze a small handkerchief, bidding him farewell. Wen Xingze looked back three times as he left.

Chi Yan was currently reviewing the NG footage from the previous scene. The lighting crew, cameramen, and Xu Qianqian were all nearby, listening attentively. Wen Xingze wasn’t sure why he was summoned, so he followed Xu Qianqian to watch the playback.

“…At forty-two seconds here, adjust the light fifteen degrees to the right.” Chi Yan instructed, and the lighting crew typed notes beside him.

Afterward, he turned to Xu Qianqian. “The emotions still need work; your gaze can be more subtle.”

Chi Yan spoke to Xu Qianqian, but his eyes were fixed on Wen Xingze.

Wen Xingze: “?”

Xu Qianqian and Zhu Bo both seemed stunned. Xu Qianqian said, “Director Chi, I genuinely don’t know what you mean by ‘more subltle.’ How about you give me an example? Maybe a classic movie scene? I’ll try to understand.”

After a moment of contemplation, Chi Yan replied, “Sure.” He took off his glasses and rubbed his temples. Then he turned to Xu Qianqian and said, “Watch closely.”

Wen Xingze chimed in, “Ah? Should I go get the tablet…?”

Chi Yan stopped him, nodding for Wen Xingze to come closer.

Wen Xingze held his phone, looking bewildered.

The lighting crew was adjusting the lights, and the set now had a dim, yellowish hue. The wind had subsided.

Facing the light, Wen Xingze blinked slowly. His youthful eyelashes were soft and delicate, their simple curve captivating.

Chi Yan reached for Wen Xingze’s phone, blocking his view of himself.

Then, Chi Yan lowered his gaze, lightly touching Wen Xingze’s cheek and leaning in.

For a moment, Xu Qianqian thought she might witness a kiss.

But in reality, Chi Yan merely lowered his eyes, their breaths briefly intertwining. His fingertip grazed Wen Xingze’s ear, adjusting the collar at the back of his neck. He tidied it up.

Chi Yan always got into character quickly, effortlessly finding the right state. His eyes reminded Xu Qianqian of someone futilely reaching for the moon in water — close yet unattainable. The flickering lights resembled a spilled galaxy.

And he understood all of this.

Chi Yan’s gaze lingered at the corner of Wen Xingze’s lips. His thumb brushed over the edge, a fleeting touch that lasted only a couple of seconds before he restrained himself and withdrew his hand.

Finally, he ruffled Wen Xingze’s hair. “That’s enough.”

Wen Xingze: “Huh? What just happened? …Qianqian, why are you having a nosebleed?”

The crew and Xu Qianqian wore identical dazed expressions.

After a while, Xu Qianqian bowed deeply to Wen Xingze and Chi Yan. “Thank you both for your hospitality.”

They had all gone a little crazy!

Wen Xingze: “?”

Chi Yan returned to his director’s seat, unbuttoning two buttons and responding coolly with a simple “Hmm.”

Xu Qianqian held a tissue to her nose, her voice muffled. “Director Chi, I completely understand now. I promise I’ll nail it in one take later.”

Wen Xingze: “???”

Xu Qianqian’s words were followed by unexpectedly flawless performances. Not only did she succeed in one take, but she also breezed through three more scenes within an hour, mastering the most challenging parts of the romantic scenes.

Chi Yan effortlessly achieved what others couldn’t. Everyone marveled at it.

That night, the phrase “Director Chi’s exceptional skills” spread like wildfire within the crew. It was about a certain CP that had left everyone guessing…

________________________

[User17652: Ah, don’t fall in love, little one!!!]

[Summer Ignorance: It was just a demonstration of courtesy. Didn’t you see His Majesty completely miss the point?]

[Marry the Emperor Squad: But everyone around clearly got it. What did he see?”

[Strawberry Pudding: So why is Chi Yan participating in the PK mission?]

[Bat Language Level Ten: “Thanks for the invitation. I’m currently on the Blood Clan’s main star, where I just witnessed Prince Os crushing a Roman column with his bare hands.]

At 9 p.m., Wen Xingze returned to his lodging and took a shower.

He sat on the windowsill, gazing at the night outside while chatting with the Dragon Clan parents through his earphones.

Ever since the Blood Clan had sent the Soul Casket, the Dragon Clan parents had become even more jealous. Although they weren’t as sour as the Blood Clan, who could blame them? Who wouldn’t want to be by the Emperor’s side every day?

So now, their nightly routine of pre-sleep phone calls had begun.

“Your Majesty, stay away from that, that, that Director Chi,” Silver Dragon Will stammered indignantly, “I s-s-suspect he has ulterior motives. He wants to take you away!”

Astor: “Seconded.”

Jade: “Seconded.”

Other dragons: “Seconded!!!”

On the Dragon Clan’s home planet, night had fallen. Despite the perpetual snow, this season wasn’t particularly cold, and the wind was gentle.

Wen Xingze could almost imagine the dragons crowding together, huddled around a campfire, all raising their short claws in agreement.

Their depiction amused Wen Xingze. He was about to say that Chi Yan was a human — how could he possibly take him away?

Suddenly, he glanced at the calendar and remembered something. “What’s the date over there?”

The dragons fell silent.

After a moment, Astor cleared his throat nervously and whispered, “In the Universal Era, it’s the twenty-seventh of August.”

Wen Xingze murmured, “Ah, so it’s the twenty-seventh of August.”

Wen Xingze had asked casually, and the dragons seemed a little disappointed but not too disheartened. Then Astor said, “Um, actually…

Wen Xingze interrupted, “Wait.”

The dragons couldn’t see His Majesty’s actions on the screen, and they were getting anxious. But then they saw—

A bouquet of flowers.

Adorned with tiny bell-like snow lotus blossoms, pure white and delicate, the petals glowed even brighter in the moonlight. Wen Xingze cradled the bouquet, as if embracing a cloud.

The snow lotus symbolized “rebirth.”

Many years ago, on the twenty-seventh of August in the Universal Era, it was Wen Xingze’s first day on the Dragon Clan’s home planet. Later, this day became the planet’s birthday — a day of renewal.

Every year on this day, if Wen Xingze visited the Dragon Clan’s home planet, they would set off fireworks throughout the night.

Wen Xingze chuckled. “Did you think I forgot? Another year older. Just so you know, no crying allowed.”

Although he couldn’t log into the game this year, Wen Xingze had never forgotten. Back in Desolation, every year on this day, he would send a bouquet of flowers to the Dragon Clan’s home planet.

The dragons were on the verge of tears, but they held them back, finally erupting in a resounding hiccup.

Wen Xingze: “…”

Why were his citizens so adorable? Did they grow up eating cuteness?

Astor sniffed and bashfully said, “Actually, we’ve prepared a gift for you too. It should be arriving soon.”

The Light Tower Logistics allowed one weekly delivery. Last time, the Blood Clan had beaten them to it, but luckily, they secured it this time. Originally, it was scheduled for tomorrow morning, but they’d pulled some strings to have it delivered tonight.

Sure enough, as soon as the words left his mouth, someone knocked on Wen Xingze’s door.

Wen Xingze felt a bit apprehensive when he received the small box. He worried it might be another extravagant gift like a private jet or a private island. Fortunately, it turned out to be a modest little box. Curious, he asked the dragons, “What is it?”

Jade answered, “It’s the Book of Foresight.”

Although they called it a “book,” it contained only a single page of slightly yellowed paper. Beside it lay a feather quill.

The dragon clan had a penchant for collecting rare and exotic treasures. One of their favorite pastimes was amassing treasures from all corners of the universe and piling them up outside the main star palace.

Over the years, Wen Xingze had received countless gifts — priceless treasures that ordinary people could hardly imagine. From private jets to hand-knitted sweaters, they had offered him everything they possessed.

“This year’s gift,” Auster scratched his head, “we thought you should decide for yourself.”

The Book of Foresight was unique throughout the cosmos. Wen Xingze had once believed it was a mere legend.

According to the Treasure Map, “Simply write down your desires with the feather quill on the paper, and they will come true.” If Wen Xingze wished, he could use this paper to acquire boundless wealth, power, fame, and even a lifespan beyond mortal reach.

In just three seconds, Wen Xingze decided what he wanted to write. Shielding his words from prying eyes, he quickly penned a single line.

The paper’s edges curled as an unknown flame consumed it, swallowing the entire sheet.

The dragons were practically bursting with curiosity, desperate to know what Wen Xingze had written. Their massive heads crowded together, jostling for a better view.

Then, unexpectedly, Wen Xingze extinguished the room’s sole lamp and whispered, “Shh, close your eyes.”

The dragons obediently shut their eyes.

In the next moment…

Whoosh—boom!

A magnificent fireworks display erupted against the dark night sky. The silent snow-capped mountains and glaciers reflected the brilliant colors, captivating their eyes.

Gradually, the dragons opened their eyes.

It was as if a celestial rain of fire and light had descended, akin to shooting stars scattered across the heavens. Finally, the fireworks burst forth, showering back down to earth.

Then, a clear, melodious voice filled the air, tinged with amusement:

“Happy birthday.”

This was what Wen Xingze had written on the paper.

He didn’t desire wealth, power, fame, or a long life. Instead, he gifted the silly dragons a fireworks display.

________________________

That evening.

As the three-hour communication window ended, the dragons gathered around the campfire, gazing at the star-studded night sky after the fireworks had faded.

They hadn’t succeeded in coaxing the Cub to say, “I really like you.” The Dragon Clan failed the first parent PK.

Yet, it was a delightful failure — one that left them feeling blissful. For years to come, they would proudly showcase this fireworks memory to other clans.

“I really like him.”

“Wooooo! Not only did he remember, but he also bought flowers and specially arranged fireworks for us.”

“But the challenge… Forget it, who cares about that task.”

“Our family has the best Emperor in the world.”

“Agreed!!!”

The dragons lay on their backs, raising their short claws toward the sky.

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