My brother entrusted his child to me, and I livestreamed raising the baby, making the Empress cry wi

That morning, just as dawn was breaking and the eastern horizon was beginning to lighten, the people of the Great Flame Kingdom began their day's work as usual.

The breakfast vendor lifted the lid of the steamer, and white steam billowed up, mingling with the aroma of steamed buns that wafted through the streets and alleys.

The man carrying water swayed his carrying pole, the water in the wooden buckets rippling gently with each step, leaving a trail of wetness.

The craftsmen, rubbing their eyes and yawning, hurried across the still dimly lit streets as they rushed to their jobs.

Then, suddenly it became bright daylight.

It wasn't the gradual brightening of sunrise, but rather like someone suddenly lighting a lamp in the sky, the light pouring down from above, covering the entire sky and making it as bright as day.

"The sky curtain! The sky curtain has reappeared!"

This shout instantly startled the entire Great Flame.

"Didn't the government say it was a smokescreen?!" The butcher was startled by the sudden brightness of the sky. The knife he was using to cut meat fell onto the cutting board, the tip of which embedded itself in the wood and vibrated with a buzzing sound.

He stared wide-eyed, his voice shrill and hoarse, as if someone had grabbed his throat, "Why are they here again?! How dare that demon come back?!"

"That sorcerer is incredibly audacious! The authorities are arresting him everywhere, yet he still dares to show his face?"

People dropped what they were doing and looked up at the sky.

The image gradually became clear.

That was a... study?

The walls of the room were snow-white and smooth, without a single gap, as flat as if they had been polished from a single piece of jade, and when the light shone on them, they had a soft, matte finish.

The ground was covered with light-colored wooden planks, their grain clearly visible, so bright they reflected people's images. Some sharp-eyed villagers noticed that the wooden planks reflected the images of various objects inside the house, and they gasped in surprise.

In the center of the sky, a man is sitting on a dark gray "tatami".

No, that wasn't a tatami mat. Although it was about the same size, it had a backrest and armrests. The man sitting in it sank into it completely, as if half of him had been swallowed up by that thing. It must have been incredibly soft. What should it be called? Nobody knew.

He was dressed in a strange black outfit, consisting of two pieces, resembling an inner garment, but connected in the middle by a row of small, round buttons that reflected a shell-like sheen in the light.

The fabric of his clothes was indistinguishable, but it looked softer and smoother than the finest silk. The fabric undulated slightly with his breathing and shimmered faintly in the sunlight.

He leaned casually against the back of the "tatami" chair, one arm draped over the armrest, his fingers tapping lightly on the armrest with his fingertips.

His face was facing this way, with distinct features, sharp eyebrows that slanted upwards into his temples, and high brow bones that cast a small shadow in his eye sockets, making his eyes appear even more deep and unfathomable.

What's most striking are the two beauty marks under his eyes, one on the left and one on the right, as if they were painted on with ink, adding an indescribable charm to his face.

He was just casually leaning on the sofa, doing nothing, but he exuded arrogance, making people's fists itch to punch him.

And behind him—

Those watching the sky all gasped in shock.

book.

It's all books.

The bookshelves stretched from floor to ceiling, row upon row, all neatly arranged. The dark wood had a warm luster, and every shelf was filled with books.

The books were colorful and varied, some thick and some thin. Some had words they recognized on their spines, while others had symbols they couldn't understand at all. They stood quietly on the bookshelf, row upon row, like soldiers in formation.

"What are those?! What are those walls covered in books?! Books?! All books?!"

"Good heavens?! How many books is that?! A thousand? Ten thousand?"

In the teahouse, an old scholar's teacup fell to the ground with a "clatter," shards of porcelain scattering everywhere and tea spilling all over the floor. Oblivious to the crash, he lunged to the window, half his body leaning out, his withered fingers gripping the window frame, his knuckles turning white from the effort.

"Books...all books..." His lips trembled violently, his gray beard quivering with each tremor, his expression as if he had witnessed something utterly incredible.

"That bookshelf...that bookshelf is taller and has more books than the library of Xiaoshan Academy! How many books must there be?! How many books must there be?!"

He became more and more agitated as he spoke, his voice growing louder and louder until he finally leaned against the windowsill, tears welling up in his eyes.

People nearby quickly pulled him back, saying, "Sir! Sir, please don't get agitated!"

"How could I not be excited!" He slammed his hand on the window frame, sending dust flying.

"I've been reading all my life, and my family has amassed over three hundred books, making us one of the more well-known book collectors in the city—but look at that! Look at all those books on the wall! Three hundred books? Three hundred books don't even fill one corner of that bookcase!"

"Ten thousand volumes..." His friend sat beside him, stunned. His lips trembled, his voice hoarse and almost inaudible, "This is truly... a collection of ten thousand volumes..."

"If I could just see those books... even just one glimpse... I'd die happy!"

In the silk shop, a merchant who supplied cloth to the imperial palace stared wide-eyed. He involuntarily took two steps forward, his knee slamming into the counter. He winced in pain, but didn't even bother to look down.

"That fabric! The fabric that person was wearing—I've been supplying fabric to the imperial palace for over twenty years, and I've never seen anything like it! It's finer than Shu brocade! Smoother than silk!"

A carpenter on the street corner rubbed his eyes hard: "That floor... is it made of wood? How come it's so shiny? And... wood can be used to make flooring?! Won't it rot if it gets wet?"

On the street corner, several children tugged at their parents' clothes, their voices urgent and crisp, like sparrows chirping on a branch.

"Dad! How come that person has so many books? So many more than we have in school!"

"Mother! I don't recognize any of the words in those books! Do I recognize that person?"

"Did he read all the books? Does that mean he's even more knowledgeable than Confucius?"

The adults stared, mouths agape, none of them able to answer.

The Imperial Palace, Hall of Supreme Harmony.

It was the time for the morning court session.

The hall was brightly lit by candles, and ambergris incense burned in a gilded incense burner, with wisps of blue smoke rising gently.

Civil and military officials stood in two rows on either side, holding tablets and bowing their heads in solemn silence.

Shu Jingwei sat high on the dragon throne, wearing a twelve-tassel crown, with strings of white jade beads hanging in front of her eyes, swaying slightly with her breath.

The Ministry of Revenue is currently reporting on this year's tax revenue.

"Your Majesty, this year the weather in the Jiangnan region has been favorable, resulting in increased grain production—"

Before he finished speaking, a commotion suddenly broke out outside the hall.

"The sky! The sky has reappeared!"

The exclamations of the guards outside the hall reached in, and the entire court of officials changed color.

Shu Jingwei suddenly stood up from the dragon throne, and the sleeve of her dragon robe accidentally knocked over a teacup on the table, which shattered on the ground with a "crash".

She strode out of the main hall, looked up, and her pupils suddenly contracted—