He Burns Brighter Than the Empire

Jiang Linyuan died once.

In his previous life, he was the CEO of Chuanxing Capital and a leading expert in microexpression analysis. At thirty-one, his heart stopped. Before he died, he saw a pair of phoenix eyes: the eyes of a young emperor, sharp and restrained, like a crane with its wings chained, holding its head high and refusing to let anyone see it tremble.

When he opened his eyes again, he had become the regent of the Great Sheng Dynasty, a man with power over the entire court.

The original owner of this body was a madman who had killed over a hundred people in three years. The young emperor, Feng Zijin, hated him to the core. He acted gentle and respectful to his face, but secretly he was sharpening his knives. Every official at court wanted him dead.

But Jiang Linyuan could read minds. He could see clearly who was lying, who was afraid, and who was plotting against him. This mess was rather interesting, especially the young emperor who put on an act of harmony between ruler and minister with him every day.

From psychological manipulation to sincere devotion, from political scheming to entrusting each other with their lives. He gradually made his way into the depths of those phoenix eyes, only to uncover a secret hidden for thirteen years: the boy who had once wiped away his tears in a corner of the Imperial Ancestral Temple wore a black jade pendant at his waist, engraved with a single character: Jiang.

Feng Zijin looked at him and said, “All these years, I thought I hated you. It turns out I was only waiting for you to come back.”

Having power over the court was an act. Giving my heart to you alone was real.