The story begins with a power struggle among nine princes, but the protagonist doesn't vie for

Although Qingluo closed the door and left, the shocking news she brought about the "financial collapse of the royal palace" and the "rubbing to squander the family fortune" completely shattered Luo Zhaoheng's tranquility in his focused cultivation.

Luo Zhaoheng sat in the quiet room for a while, his mind racing with various ways to break the deadlock.

Cost-cutting? In theory, if he just gave up making talismans and cultivating immortality, the financial crisis of the royal palace would be resolved, but that's not what Luo Zhaoheng wanted.

As for increasing revenue? Easier said than done. The existing farmland and shops, while providing stable income, are limited by the small amount of land and shops.

Opening up new avenues to wealth? Luo Zhaoheng racked his brains, recalling the "treasure trove of wealth for transmigrators" from his past life—glass, soap, perfume, high-proof liquor…

Glass? He doesn't have the skill; soap? He deeply regrets not studying chemistry well in his past life; perfume? He doesn't seem to be able to make that either; as for high-proof liquor, that requires filtering, right? What do you use for filtering? It seems like you need glassware, a funnel, or something like that…

Luo Zhaoheng thought for a long time, racking his brains, but still couldn't come up with a feasible solution.

In the end, Luo Zhaoheng gave up his idea of ​​starting his own business, making money from money, and making a lot of money.

Although Luo Zhaoheng was a prince, Emperor Xuanxi did not assign him any official duties. In the capital, he had no wealthy friends. Apart from his imperial brothers, Luo Zhaoheng did not know anyone he could borrow money from.

Luo Zhaoheng had considered borrowing money from his brothers, but borrowing meant repaying it. His cultivation of immortality seemed like a bottomless pit. If he really borrowed money to cultivate, he would definitely not be able to repay it in the future, and sooner or later he would be in deep trouble.

As for Luo Zhaoheng using his princely status to seize things by trickery and force, it seems somewhat beneath him. Moreover, outsiders might not give him the respect due to an unfavored prince...

Luo Zhaoheng rejected every possible way to make money, until finally, only one path remained...

Thinking of this, Luo Zhaoheng returned to his bedroom to change his clothes, then called out to the door, "Xiao Shunzi, prepare the carriage for me; I'm going to the palace to meet the Emperor!"

Before long, a blue-canopied carriage, which had no royal insignia and looked rather ordinary, silently drove out of the side gate of the Prince Yu's mansion, rolled over the wet streets, and sped towards the inner city and the imperial city.

Inside the carriage, Luo Zhaoheng closed his eyes to rest, silently rehearsing what he would say when he met the emperor later. He planned how to "complain," how to "ask for money," and even rehearsed his tone, expression, and when his eyes would redden.

The carriage of Prince Yu's mansion passed through the bustling streets of the outer city, through the heavily guarded inner city gates, and finally stopped outside the majestic Meridian Gate.

"Your Highness, we've arrived at the Meridian Gate," Xiao Shunzi announced in a low voice from outside.

Luo Zhaoheng took a deep breath, lifted the carriage curtain, and stepped down. The enormous shadow of the Meridian Gate loomed over him, carrying an invisible pressure. He looked up at the towering palace walls and the tightly closed gates, his eyes calm and unwavering.

Then, he straightened his casual clothes, stepped forward, and walked steadily toward the door that led to the highest power center of the empire, and also to his "father".

"Please inform Your Majesty that Prince Yu, Luo Zhaoheng, has urgent business to discuss with the Emperor."

Qianqing Palace.

Behind his desk, Emperor Xuanxi was reviewing an urgent military report about the unusual movements of the Di people in the northern border, his brow furrowed. His aging body and the continuous autumn rain made his joints ache, and his mood became increasingly gloomy.

The court appeared calm on the surface, but how could he not know the undercurrents beneath? It was just that he was too exhausted to do anything but turn a blind eye to many things.

"Your Majesty," Cao Jin entered quietly, bowing and whispering, "Prince Yu is requesting an audience outside the palace, saying... he has important matters to report."

"Prince Yu?" Emperor Xuanxi paused in his writing, looked up, and a hint of surprise flashed in his eyes. Ever since the farce in front of the palace last time, when he changed the title of his eleventh son to "Yu," fined him, and issued a decree that "he is not allowed to enter the palace without a reason," he had never set foot in the palace gates again.

I heard he's been "quietly cultivating" in the outer palace, keeping such a low profile that people have almost forgotten he even has a son. Why the sudden request for an audience today? Is it because he "has something important to discuss"?

What important matter could he possibly have to do? Emperor Xuanxi instinctively felt a surge of impatience and suspicion. Could it be that he felt stifled in the Prince's residence and was plotting some kind of "ascension to immortality"?

But then I thought, he's still my son. Although he caused quite a scene last time, he's been relatively "well-behaved" since then and hasn't caused any more trouble.

Moreover, his title of "Yu" and the imperial decree that he "must not enter the palace without a reason" were themselves a form of exile and neglect. Logically and emotionally, since he had taken the initiative to request an audience, it would seem rather inhumane to refuse him entry.

"Let him in." Emperor Xuanxi put down his vermilion brush, rubbed his temples, and spoke calmly.

"Yes." Cao Jin withdrew to relay the imperial decree.

Shortly after, footsteps were heard outside the hall. Cao Jin led a person into the hall.

Emperor Xuanxi looked up and saw that Luo Zhaoheng, who had entered, was not wearing the imperial court's robes, but rather a worn-out, dark indigo-blue casual robe, with his hair simply tied up.

Emperor Xuanxi frowned almost imperceptibly. This kid, dressed like this, came? Was he deliberately putting on a show to impress him, to demonstrate his "poverty"? Or was he really... having a hard time at the Prince's residence?

"Your subject Luo Zhaoheng greets Your Majesty, may Your Majesty live ten thousand years." Luo Zhaoheng took a few steps to the imperial desk and performed a respectful salute. His voice was steady, but upon closer listening, it seemed to carry a faint hoarseness.

"Rise," Emperor Xuanxi said calmly. "What brings you to the palace today?"

Luo Zhaoheng rose, stood with his hands at his sides, and did not answer immediately. Instead, he first raised his head slightly, quickly glanced at the emperor, his eyes seemingly filled with concern, then quickly lowered his head and whispered:

"The autumn rains are continuous and the weather is getting colder. Your Majesty looks rather tired. I urge Your Majesty to take good care of your health."

This simple greeting, carrying a son's most instinctive concern for his father, slightly eased the displeasure Emperor Xuanxi felt due to the son's attire and sudden visit.

Emperor Xuanxi hummed in agreement, his tone softening slightly: "I'm fine. But you, are you getting used to life in the Prince's residence?"

"Thank you for your concern, Father." Luo Zhaoheng's tone seemed to lighten slightly, but then it returned to its worried state. "The Prince's residence... everything is fine. With the servants managing things, everything is in good order."

He paused, as if hesitating, before continuing, his tone even lower: "However... I have come here today because there is something I find difficult to say, but I must inform Father Emperor and beg Father Emperor... to do my best."

"Oh?" Emperor Xuanxi picked up his teacup and slowly took a sip. "What's so hard to say? Tell me." He wanted to see what kind of nonsense this kid could come up with.

Luo Zhaoheng seemed to take a deep breath, as if gathering his courage, and looked up at the emperor. His eyes were open yet tinged with grievance, and his voice rose slightly, but he remained respectful.

"Father, your son... your son's palace is overspending and has run out of money. Please grant me some funds."

"Pfft—!" Emperor Xuanxi almost spat out his tea, coughing twice as he choked. Cao Jin, who was standing next to him, quickly stepped forward and handed him a handkerchief.

Emperor Xuanxi wiped his mouth while staring at Luo Zhaoheng with an incredulous look.

What did he hear? In broad daylight, his son, a prince of the mighty Xu Empire, actually came to the Qianqing Palace and told him in such blunt terms—"I'm broke, can you give me some money to spend?" Has he no shame at all?

"What...what did you say?" Emperor Xuanxi put down the handkerchief, his voice trembling.