Li Yu was facing a life-or-death crisis.
As a Film Emperor, he had encountered many life-or-death moments—when his undercover agent role in a spy thriller was nearly exposed, when he played a general making a last stand in a historical epic, when he portrayed a narcotics officer infiltrating a drug cartel in a crime drama. Even in a romance film, when he played a prince donating a kidney for his Cinderella, it could be considered a life-or-death moment.
But this time was different. This time, there were no cameras and no script to dictate what would happen next. This time, it was a real, undeniable life! or death! crisis!
“Your Highness, when we meet the Emperor and Empress, you must be extremely careful not to—” Zhao Shiwu supported Li Yu as he stepped down from the carriage, whispering a reminder.
Li Yu, sore from the bumpy ride, longed for his comfortable van. He gave Zhao Shiwu a small nod in acknowledgment.
He stepped onto the red-carpeted stairs leading into the palace. Palace attendants standing on either side called out in unison: “Prince of Ruyang—arrives—”
“Prince of Ruyang—arrives—” The announcement echoed through the grand hall.
Three days ago, Li Yu had been a respected Film Emperor, happily promoting his latest critically acclaimed film. Then, while filming a reality show, he accidentally fell into a lake. (He felt bad for that show. Losing a guest to drowning might mean it would never air.) But when he woke up, his mind was intact. Only his body changed. He became the Prince of Ruyang1汝阳 (Rǔyáng) – Ruyang county in Luoyang 洛阳, Henan in the Great Sheng Dynasty.
The Prince of Ruyang’s name was also Li Yu. He even resembled the original him by about seventy percent. Perhaps that was why he ended up in this Prince of Ruyang Li Yu’s body.
However, this Prince of Ruyang was twelve years younger than him—just eighteen.
At first, Li Yu was relatively calm. Transmigrating to an era with poor technology, backward healthcare, and no entertainment industry was unfortunate, but waking up as a young prince wasn’t the worst fate imaginable.
As long as said eighteen-year-old young prince wasn’t the type to court death. Unfortunately, that was exactly what this prince had been doing.
Li Yu still remembered the moment he first woke up in this world.
His mind was groggy and his body felt like it was run over by a carriage. He was feverish, achy, and unable to move.
Late at night, he overheard whispers: “Did His Highness really fall into the water because he was drunk?”
“Shut up!” a stern voice cut in.
After that, doctors came and went, diagnosing and prescribing treatments. The palace maids took turns caring for him day and night.
Li Yu lay motionless for two days—at first because he was weak, then because he wanted to eavesdrop. Like a possum playing dead, he gradually pieced together the relationships of those around him and learned about the key figures in the palace.
Finally, when the time was right, he “woke up.” He played out this kind of dramatic awakening in countless films. It was second nature to him.
“Zhao Shiwu…” He rasped, voice weak.
Zhao Shiwu was the chief eunuch serving by the Prince of Ruyang’s side. All the eunuchs and palace maids around the Prince of Ruyang followed his orders. The original Prince of Ruyang seemed to trust Zhao Shiwu immensely. He entrusted him with many internal affairs without hesitation.
“His Highness is awake!” Zhao Shiwu exclaimed in surprise and joy. He had originally served by Consort Yunshu’s side. After her death, he devoted himself to serving her son, the Prince of Ruyang. He had already made up his mind—if anything happened to Li Yu, the only way to atone to Consort Yunshu would be with his own life.
But the Film Emperor Li Yu had no idea about Zhao Shiwu’s inner turmoil. He simply followed the script and said, “What… happened to me?”
Hearing the Prince of Ruyang’s question, Zhao Shiwu’s expression darkened. “Your Highness was drunk in the palace and accidentally fell into the water.” Zhao Shiwu dismissed the palace maids and eunuchs who were standing by the bedside and ordered them to wait outside. Then, he carefully turned back and asked, “Did Your Highness truly fall by accident? Was there anyone nearby when you fell?”
Li Yu held his forehead and spoke vaguely, “I can’t even remember getting drunk in the palace… let alone falling into the water. I don’t recall a thing. Could someone have tried to harm me? But why?”
Zhao Shiwu’s face turned pale with shock. “Your Highness doesn’t remember anything?”
Li Yu shook his head. Being drunk was a convenient excuse, so he decided to stick with it. “I drank too much, fell ill, and everything became a blur. Tell me in detail what happened that day.”
Zhao Shiwu counted the days and said, “On the third day of the third month, a banquet was held in the palace and invited several princes who were in the capital. Your Highness got drunk and, in a moment of indiscretion, offended the Empress. Not only did you praise the Empress’s beauty, but you also said that she should have been… should have been…”
By the end of his sentence, Zhao Shiwu’s voice became barely audible. He was too terrified to speak the words aloud. This showed just how reckless those words were.
Li Yu could already guess what the young prince had foolishly said. “Should have been mine?”
Zhao Shiwu gasped, shocked that Li Yu dared to say such words even now. He lowered his voice and whispered urgently, “Your Highness! The Emperor has only recently ascended the throne and just married the Empress. Your visit to the capital was to congratulate him on his wedding. Even if the Emperor has deep brotherly affection for you and chooses to laugh this off, the Empress and the Duke of Qi will not let this slide! The Emperor’s first decree upon taking the throne was to make the Duke of Qi’s daughter the Empress. The Duke has placed high hopes on her…”
Li Yu fell into deep thought. This Duke of Qi seemed even more powerful than the Emperor himself. He was openly controlling the imperial couple.
Unless…
Could it be…
The term “powerful minister” flashed through Li Yu’s mind. The Emperor was young and newly enthroned. The real power was still in the hands of the powerful minister. And that powerful minister had installed his own daughter as Empress. This was literally the script of Cao Cao from the Three Kingdoms2Cao Cao (155–220 CE) was a powerful warlord and statesman during the late Eastern Han Dynasty and the early Three Kingdoms period of China. He is best known for his role in consolidating power under the Han dynasty while essentially ruling as the de facto leader. His story is one of political maneuvering, military brilliance, and, according to some accounts, ruthless ambition. Cao Cao started as a general and official in the Han court but later gained significant power by controlling Emperor Xian of Han. Though he never took the throne himself, he effectively ruled China through the emperor, using him as a puppet to legitimize his own authority. This is a classic example of a powerful minister overshadowing a weak emperor. While Cao Cao did not install his daughter as empress, his political tactics set a precedent for future regents and power-hungry officials who would do exactly that. Instead, his son Cao Pi eventually forced Emperor Xian to abdicate and established the Cao Wei dynasty, ending the Han Dynasty entirely. So here, Li Yu realizes that the political situation he’s in resembles a powerful minister controlling the emperor—similar to what Cao Cao did. The Duke of Qi (齐国公) has placed his daughter as Empress to ensure that his influence over the imperial court remains strong.!
Li Yu felt a chill in his heart. On the bright side, he understood the importance of keeping a low profile. He wouldn’t make reckless mistakes again. That is, if he still had a future to worry about.
Later that day, word spread through the palace that the Prince of Ruyang had awakened. A eunuch soon arrived with an imperial decree summoning him to the palace for an audience the next day.
Standing in front of Donghua Palace3
, Li Yu decided to rely on his best skill—acting.
This was a life-or-death moment. His only option was to bring out his top-tier acting skills. He was fully prepared: the moment he saw the Emperor, he would cling to his leg (not literally), cry bitterly (he had rubbed some garlic juice on his fingertips to help with the tears), tremble all over (after all, he had just recovered from illness), and sincerely beg for forgiveness—but only for his drunken misconduct, without mentioning a word of what he had actually said. His ultimate goal was to plead for permission to return to his fief in Yunzhou as soon as possible.
He had heard that before the Emperor ascended the throne, his closest friend was none other than the Prince of Ruyang. If the Emperor still had a shred of brotherly affection for him, and if he still had enough authority to make decisions, then maybe—just maybe—Li Yu could survive this.
The palace maids led Li Yu into the side hall of Donghua Palace, where the Emperor handled state affairs.
The Emperor had not yet arrived, so they asked Li Yu to wait in a small adjoining chamber.
Outside, the peach and plum blossoms were in full bloom. Their shadows swayed against the red palace walls. But Li Yu had no time to appreciate the scenery. He simply waited in silence.
After a while, he heard footsteps approaching. He turned his head and saw the palace attendants kneeling in greeting—but the person who entered was not the Emperor.
Li Yu’s mind went blank.
The newcomer was not extraordinarily beautiful, but their features were as clear and refined as mountains after the rain. Their eyes, neither joyful nor angry, made Li Yu realize for the first time that true compassion was not just an empty concept.
At this life-or-death moment, he had only one thought—Love at first sight. Even the movies weren’t this romantic.
