Mirror Dream Tree V.5.02. Li Xuanyi (2)

The past rises within him, slow and unavoidable, pulling him into mories long buried.

He rembers the beginning, the mont of his birth in this unfamiliar world.

When he was born, he still carried mories from another life, fragnts that ended in his teenage years on Earth.

Along with those mories, a single technique existed within him, the Virtual Body Technique.

During his first year, he could not understand the language spoken around him.

Voices passed over him like noise, aningless yet constant, filling his surroundings.

He observed, listened, and slowly began to grasp patterns within the unfamiliar words.

At the sa ti, he studied the Virtual Body Technique, reading it again and again within his mind.

He did not rush, choosing instead to understand every detail before attempting anything.

That entire year passed in quiet observation, slow comprehension, and careful thought.

By the second year, the language no longer felt foreign to him.

He began to understand every word spoken around him with growing clarity.

It was then that he learned his new na, Li Xuanyi.

He was born within the royal palace of the Dali Kingdom, surrounded by power and silent tension.

He was the first son of the king, a position that carried both privilege and unseen danger.

His mother died giving birth to him, leaving behind only whispers and distant sorrow.

As for his father, the king, he never ca to see him.

Li Xuanyi only caught glimpses of him during formal royal family dinners.

Those brief monts revealed nothing but distance and indifference.

By the third year, he understood the reason behind that distance.

The king had loved his mother deeply, far beyond what words could express.

Her death during childbirth beca a wound that never healed.

And Li Xuanyi, as the cause of that loss, beca soone the king could not accept.

If he were truly a child, such rejection might have broken him.

But he carried mories of another life, one spent as an orphan without family.

Compared to that past, this life felt vastly better, filled with comfort and endless resources.

He accepted his situation without resentnt, treating it as sothing already familiar.

While enjoying the luxury around him, he began practising the first chapter of the Virtual Body Technique.

His young body grew steadily stronger, shaped by quiet discipline and hidden effort.

Thus, his third year passed in calm routine, growth, and silent preparation.

The fourth year followed a similar path, though one major change erged.

His royal education began, introducing him to history, governance, and court etiquette.

He paid close attention to every lesson, absorbing knowledge with sharp focus.

He perford exceptionally, surpassing expectations with ease and consistency.

He understood his position as the firstborn prince carried unavoidable implications.

Even if he did not desire the throne, others would never believe that truth.

To survive, he needed to show value, enough to make the king protect him.

Thus, he revealed his intelligence openly while keeping his deeper capabilities concealed.

The fifth year continued much the sa, though change once again arrived.

His father married a princess from a neighbouring kingdom, strengthening political ties.

The palace atmosphere shifted subtly, becoming more complex and layered with hidden intentions.

Li Xuanyi continued to excel in his studies, maintaining his image as a gifted prince.

At the sa ti, he began to hide his growing physical strength more carefully.

The Virtual Body Technique advanced quietly within him, unseen by all.

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From the sixth year to the tenth year, nothing significant stood out in mory.

Days passed in repetition, filled with study, practice, and careful observation.

He followed his routine without interruption, steadily building both mind and body.

The palace remained calm on the surface, though undercurrents of tension never truly disappeared.

Then, after his tenth year, everything changed.

The king fell ill, his condition worsening with each passing day.

Despite all efforts, his health continued to decline without recovery.

In ti, the king died, leaving the throne without a direct successor in power.

His stepmother had only given birth to a daughter, leaving Li Xuanyi as the only son.

The balance within the palace shifted instantly, power gathering toward him whether he wanted it or not.

The path ahead narrowed, pulling him toward a fate he could no longer avoid.

Within a few days, the ceremony is completed, and he is crowned as the new king of the Dali Kingdom.

Yet, as he is not yet an adult, authority does not rest in his hands.

The kingdom is governed by his stepmother and the pri minister, Shen Guozhen.

Li Xuanyi shows traces of dissatisfaction, his expression tightening during court assemblies.

His words carry mild resistance, just enough to be noticed, yet never enough to threaten.

But all of it is a performance, carefully asured and deliberately controlled.

His mind remains calm, far beyond his years, shaped by mories and quiet discipline.

He understands clearly that survival depends on remaining unseen until the right mont arrives.

Thus, he chooses invisibility over confrontation, silence over reckless ambition.

He continues his routine without change, studying, observing, and cultivating in secrecy.

From his eleventh year to his sixteenth year, nothing about him draws true attention.

He exists within the palace like a shadow, present yet never central.

Court politics swirl around him, yet rarely touch him directly.

By the ti he reaches sixteen, he steps fully into adulthood.

On that day, he ascends the throne not as a child king, but as a ruler in na and form.

Yet the mont he takes his seat, new currents begin to move beneath the surface.

His stepmother and Shen Guozhen begin sending won into his chambers.

Night after night, different faces arrive, carefully chosen and subtly instructed.

Li Xuanyi understands their intentions imdiately, without confusion or hesitation.

They have tasted power for years and have no desire to relinquish it.

If he produces an heir, they can eliminate him and continue ruling in his na.

It is a simple plan, cruel yet effective.

But they underestimate him.

Even when they lace his food and wine with aphrodisiacs, he remains unmoved.

This world holds no spiritual energy, no cultivation systems known to others.

Yet he has pushed his body beyond ordinary human limits through relentless training.

Within that extre refinent, he forms a faint wisp of inner qi.

With that fragile yet controlled force, he purges every toxin from his body.

Each attempt they make fails silently, leaving no trace behind.

Outwardly, he shows nothing, neither resistance nor suspicion.

He begins involving himself in minor decisions, offering thoughts that seem harmless.

Major decisions, however, he leaves entirely to them.

Thus, they continue competing, balancing, and governing the kingdom in his place.

anwhile, he continues his cultivation, unwilling to accept a life bound by ordinary limits.

At the sa ti, he begins leaving the palace in disguise.

Moving through the capital city unseen, he observes the lives of common people.

He gathers information, studies trade, power structures, and hidden influences.

Within his mind, a greater plan begins to take shape.

Beyond cultivation, he holds another ambition, vast and unyielding.

He intends to turn his kingdom into an empire that will one day rule the world.

Then one day, during one of his quiet excursions, he enters a well-known brothel.

From a private room above, he watches the performances below without drawing attention.

Among the dancers, one woman briefly captures his gaze.

She is beautiful, her movents graceful, her voice clear and captivating.

For a mont, his attention lingers, then he turns away.

A woman of such a place holds no place in his path, or so he believes.

Yet as he continues visiting, he notices sothing unusual about her.

She only sings and dances, never accepting private guests.

Despite being within such an establishnt, she preserves herself with quiet determination.

This draws his interest, not as desire, but as recognition of strength.

Her na is Xue Rong.

One day, while walking through the corridor, a familiar voice reached his ears.

It carries distress, fear, and resistance.

Without hesitation, he pushes the door open and steps inside.

Within the room, he finds Xue Rong struggling beneath a man forcing himself upon her.

His expression turns cold as he moves forward without a word.

The man is thrown aside, powerless against him.

That day, he saved Xue Rong.

And in that mont, a connection forms between them.

Neither of them realised it then.

That their bond is destined to be ill-fated.

He continues to visit the brothel, his steps steady, his presence unnoticed among the passing crowd.

Each ti, he asks for a private room, and each ti, Xue Rong is sent to him.

Inside the quiet room, he says little, often nothing at all.

He sits in silence while she sings, her voice soft, carrying emotions he never speaks.

She dances before him, her movents graceful, restrained, never crossing the boundary she has set.

He watches, calm and distant, yet never leaves before she finishes.

And when the final note fades, he rises without a word and departs.

It becos a pattern, subtle at first, then steady.

What begins as a monthly visit soon turns weekly.

Weeks pass, and the visits grow more frequent until they beco daily.

The brothel becos a place of quiet rest for him, separate from the weight of the palace.

Within that room, he allows himself brief monts of stillness.

One day, as he reclines in the room, a faint scent lingers in the air.

The incense burns slowly, its fragrance thicker than usual, almost cloying.

Neither of them notices at first.

Ti passes, and the scent deepens, slipping silently into their breath.

Their awareness dulls, their bodies growing heavy without warning.

The trap closes without sound.

Hours later, he wakes.

His mind clears instantly, sharp despite the lingering haze in his body.

He feels warmth against him and looks down.

Xue Rong lies asleep on his chest, her breathing soft, her body unguarded.

For a brief mont, his expression stills, unreadable.

Then his gaze hardens, understanding forming without confusion.

Without a word, he carefully moves, placing her aside without waking her.

He dresses himself in silence, his movents precise and controlled.

From his sleeve, he takes several gold coins and places them on the table.

He does not look back again.

Then he leaves.

From that day onward, he never returned to the brothel.

Ti passes, the routine broken as if it never existed.

Two months later, within the palace, he encounters sothing unexpected.

He finds Xue Rong standing beside his stepmother.

Her presence there is out of place, yet undeniable.

His gaze lowers slightly, and he notices the change imdiately.

Her once slender belly now protrudes faintly, carrying unmistakable aning.

Voices around him speak quietly, confirming what he already understands.

She is pregnant.

With his child.

Li Xuanyi’s eyes narrow slightly as he looks toward them, his expression turning cold and sharp.

Silence gathers around him, heavy with unspoken consequences.