Warring States Survival Guide - Chapter 98 - 61: The Green Jade Gourd

“Coming live to you, from Cerou Street, this is MBP News, and we have an unfolding situation to report. Late last night, at approximately 3:00 AM, an explosive-like sound reverberated through this area, disrupting the sleep of residents and instilling fear in their hearts,” the news anchor, a striking figure, delivered the report with poise, standing before the camera amidst a bustling scene.

In the background, the blaring horns of ambulances and police vehicles disturbed the serenity of the beautiful morning light. Two individuals wearing protective suits, presumably forensic experts, held a stretcher carrying a charred body.

The news anchor, who had been reporting earlier, placed a hand on her ear, fitted with an earpiece, and looked visibly surprised. Her voice filled with urgency as she continued, “We have just received an update from our headquarters regarding the sole fatality in this unexpected incident. The victim of this tragic event is none other than Norman, the famous gigolo of Night palace.”

“My colleague, who was set to cover an event today at Nightplace, obtained this information firsthand from Countess Maria, who held a special place for Norman in her heart. Our focus this morning is on this breaking news,” the female news reporter continued amidst the chaotic scene, while Norman's charred body lay alone in the ambulance.

Meanwhile, in a different world, a young boy lay fast asleep with his head on the table. The sun, seemingly displeased with the boy's carefree slumber, cast its rays directly onto his face. Annoyed by the intrusion, the boy shifted his head in another direction, unwilling to be roused from his deep sleep.

*ZZZr Zzrz Zzrzzr* However, an additional source disturbed his sleep, filling the room with a buzzing sound. The boy furrowed his brows in annoyance, his eyes still closed. He searched his surroundings and discovered a glass-like slab. With closed eyes, he slid his finger across it and placed it near his ear.

“Hello...” he mumbled in his drowsy voice, which carried a hint of depth.

“Hey, Pissed-up Prat, where are you?” a voice laced with disdain emanated from the slab.

The boy, referred to as the “Pissed-up Prat” by the irritating female voice, recognized it as a voice he heard frequently but couldn't recall its owner. With his eyes still closed, he inquired, “Who is this?”

“What do you mean, 'who is this'? Wake up, come home, or eat shit for breakfast if you prefer!” the voice behind the transparent slab retorted before falling silent.

The boy, still not fully awakened, gazed at the half-opened glass slab with a mixture of confusion and surprise. As his eyes darted around the room, he became increasingly shocked.

As he recollected the fragmented memories from the night before he lost consciousness, his gaze fell upon the entrance of the shop. Once old and damp, it now bore a different appearance. While not transformed into a luxurious space, it had undergone improvements compared to its previously dilapidated state.

The shop took on a rectangular shape, with one longer side adorned with wooden shelves intricately patterned. Rows of empty glass jars lined these shelves. On the opposite side, there was another wooden shelf, also displaying empty jars. Towards the beginning of the counter, where the boy had been sleeping, there stood a peculiar machine.

Confusion etched across his face, he murmured to himself, “Whose shop is this?”

In response to his question, a mechanical voice resonated in his mind.

[The Omnistore belongs to you, host.]

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In a world of countless schemes, where you are being manipulated at every moment,often without even knowing it.A world where you can't be sure if what you see is reality… or just another illusion crafted as part of a deeper scheme.This is the story of someone who survives it all kind of schemes both small and vast, some he understands, and others he never even realizes.Even he, who is constantly being schemed against, crafts schemes of his own against others.This is a world ruled by deception and Yuan will persevere it, shape it, and rise through it.------------English is not my native language, so please understand if there are any mistakes

I traverse along the pathway of darkness and imagination…

The youngest, silly fourteenth son of the Yan Emperor had reached the age where he should be given a separated territory now. He rejected the wealthy land, neighbouring the capital city, and instead chose the wildest land in the western region— Liangcheng. Everyone shook their heads and sighed. A fool is indeed a fool. If you go to Liangcheng, you will be killed by barbarians in less than three to five years.

One year later, the watermelon presented to the Emperor as the tribute from Liangcheng in the west was sweet and crispy. There was no one in the palace who did not love it.

Two years later, Liangcheng presented corn as a tribute to the Emperor. The yield was high, and the taste was good. No one in the country could resist liking it.

Three years later, Liangcheng defeated the barbarians and presented their prisoners in front of the imperial court. The people of Yan were excited and their morale was greatly boosted.

Four years later… Everyone said that the fourteenth prince Mingyu was a fool, while the little fatty Yu, who transmigrated with the golden finger, chuckled. Let’s see how you guys look at this fool build his own territory, then.

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