Chapter One: A Solitary Soul

Chaoge, Star-Plucking Pavilion.

Jiang Yuan held a bronze wine goblet in his hand, his face expressionless as he gazed upon the extravagant revelry before him. The women draped in gauzy silk before him—each one a rare beauty—were all tributes sent by ministers and minor vassal states eager to win his favor. As for their origins, Jiang Yuan did not inquire. It was clear not all of them came willingly; some were surely abducted by force.

The woman reclining in his arms was even more breathtaking—a peerless beauty, her skin like jade, her figure graceful and alluring, and her peach blossom eyes mesmerizing as she gazed seductively at the stern-faced Jiang Yuan.

Seemingly returning to his senses, Jiang Yuan looked at the beauty in his arms, smiled gently, pulled her closer, and kissed her deeply. Only then did he drain his goblet in satisfaction.

He could hardly believe that he had crossed over into the Shang Dynasty and become the infamous tyrant King Zhou!

At this moment, the Shang Dynasty was teetering on the edge of doom. The Star-Plucking Pavilion had been built, the cruel paoluo torture had already been enacted—his empire was no longer the heart of the people.

Jiang Yuan, who knew a bit of history, understood his current situation: he was merely enjoying himself while waiting for death.

He was filled with indignation. Damn it, if transmigration was his fate, couldn’t he at least get a cheat code? Why did he have nothing at all?

He had complained about this countless times, but still received no response. He began to wonder if, during his journey across time, he had somehow left his cheat behind.

Now, after transmigrating, Jiang Yuan was left with only a body growing more emaciated by the day, his eyes sunken, dark circles etched beneath them. There was nothing to be done—he had never been exposed to such extravagance before, let alone faced so many beauties at once.

Upon learning he was King Zhou, he had resolutely chosen to indulge in the pleasures of a tyrant, finally understanding why so many emperors of old preferred beauties to their thrones.

The unrivaled beauty in his arms was none other than the fox spirit, Su Daji. Jiang Yuan knew well that she was one of the reasons for Shang’s downfall, yet he refused to confront the truth. In his eyes, beauty was justice—her looks were simply irresistible. Since the Shang Dynasty was doomed, he might as well enjoy himself while he could.

Su Daji’s face flushed from his kiss, her charm only growing as she gazed up at Jiang Yuan.

Jiang Yuan, feeling his strength ebbing, could not suppress the heat rising within him at the sight. He began to disrobe, eyes closed, whispering to himself: “So be it—if I must die, I’d rather perish in an embrace of pleasure than be burned alive by the rebels.”

From what he remembered, King Zhou had self-immolated in the Star-Plucking Pavilion. He would rather die in ecstasy than in flames.

With a grim resolve, Jiang Yuan stood, scooped Su Daji into his arms, and strode toward the curtained bed. He had done this countless times, but every time he lifted Su Daji, he couldn’t help but marvel—did this woman have any bones at all?

“My King…” Su Daji’s soft, delicate voice sounded, sending shivers down Jiang Yuan’s spine.

“Beauty, tonight I shall die in your tender embrace!” Jiang Yuan said, feigning fierceness.

“You jest again, my King. You are the Son of Heaven, blessed with boundless fortune—how could you possibly die?” Su Daji replied coquettishly.

Jiang Yuan smiled wryly to himself. Of all people, shouldn’t you know best whether I’ll die or not, you fox spirit sent by Nuwa to bring chaos to my Shang Dynasty?

Yet he said nothing, only gazed at Su Daji with indulgence. “Yes, yes, as you say, my beauty.”

At that moment, a minister entered from outside the hall—a man whose villainous face could inspire no trust. With a sharp nose, monkey-like cheeks, protruding jaw, and narrow eyes, he was none other than Fei Zhong, the greatest traitor at King Zhou’s side.

“My King, I have a report,” Fei Zhong said, fawning as he approached.

“Speak quickly. Can’t you see I’m busy?” Jiang Yuan had a soft spot for Su Daji, but none for Fei Zhong. If not for the kingdom’s dire straits, he would have executed this traitor the moment he arrived.

Fei Zhong immediately prostrated himself and trembled as he said, “My King, the northern barbarians—the demon clans—have rebelled. They say…”

“What do they say? At a time like this, are you still trying to conceal the truth?” Jiang Yuan snapped, his patience thin. His mood was already foul; he hadn’t indulged enough, and the world was already in chaos.

“They say Your Majesty is unworthy of the throne, that you have no right to be the Son of Heaven. They claim they act on Heaven’s behalf,” Fei Zhong stammered, finally blurting it out.

“Unworthy, am I? And are their demon clans worthy? Humanity has always been the leader of the hundred spirits—where do they find the nerve?” Jiang Yuan replied angrily.

“Indeed, Your Majesty. But what should we do now?” Fei Zhong asked, cautious.

Jiang Yuan snorted coldly. “What should we do? You’re the inspector general—you should know better than I! Whoever dares rebel, crush them without mercy!”

“Yes, yes, I will issue the order to suppress the demon clans at once,” Fei Zhong said, scrambling out of the Star-Plucking Pavilion.

Once Fei Zhong was gone, Jiang Yuan lost all interest in revelry. He dismissed the palace maids and officials, set Su Daji down, and slumped to the floor in resignation.

“My King, what troubles you?” Su Daji slipped into his arms, her voice gentle.

Jiang Yuan, now sprawled on his back with Su Daji in his arms, placed his hands behind his head and exhaled a heavy sigh. “Beauty, you must know the Shang Dynasty’s fate hangs by a thread.”

Hearing this, Su Daji looked stricken and hastened to comfort him. “You are the chosen of Heaven, and Shang’s rule follows destiny. How could it fall so easily?”

Jiang Yuan didn’t look at her, but instead gazed up at the lavish, almost gaudy ceiling of the Star-Plucking Pavilion. Even if he could only be a short-lived king, at least he hadn’t lived in vain.

“I know you were sent by Lady Nuwa to watch over me. Now the demon clans have rebelled—this is only the beginning. More than just the demons will rise. Your mission is nearly complete; you’d best leave now.”

Upon hearing this, Su Daji immediately slipped from his embrace, dropping to her knees beside him, weeping prettily. “Though I was sent by Lady Nuwa, my feelings for you are sincere, my King. I am willing to live and die by your side!”

Having spoken, she seemed utterly spent. The hall fell into silence, broken only by her soft sobs.

Jiang Yuan was silent for a while, then looked at Su Daji with a gratified smile. “You should go. For a beauty such as you to perish here—I could not bear it.”

“My King…” Su Daji wailed, as if she wanted to say more.

“I know you have no choice. Nuwa holds the Demon-Summoning Banner; you must obey her. I’m only asking you to return to your own chambers, nothing more. Shang is not lost yet—how could I bear to let you go now?”

Jiang Yuan playfully pinched her delicate nose, and Su Daji, through her tears, broke into a smile, looking even more endearing.

“I wish to be alone for a while.”

“Then I shall take my leave.”

Knowing his mood could not be eased, Su Daji left him alone in the vast Star-Plucking Pavilion, its silence tinged with loneliness and chill.

Jiang Yuan slowly closed his eyes, alone at last. A self-mocking smile appeared on his lips. “What a solitary king I am.”

“Ding! Password correct. Host system binding commencing!”

“Ding! System binding successful! Activating!”

“Ding! System successfully activated. Initiating!”

“Ding! Congratulations, Host, for binding to the Tyrant System!”

“Ding! Host receives binding reward: Ten Consecutive Draws at the Start!”

Hearing this series of notifications, Jiang Yuan was first stunned, then overwhelmed with joy!

He leapt with excitement—thankfully, the Star-Plucking Pavilion was empty, or else his ministers might think their king had gone mad.

At this moment, Jiang Yuan could not help but roar with delight, punching the air in elation. Damn it! The golden finger he had waited for so long had finally arrived!