Back from Yanhuang Star, that night my wives gave me a thorough "punishment." Who'd have thought the next morning, before dawn, I'd be dragged to the Senate to discuss reforms? Arriving at the meeting, everyone's yawning. "Greetings, Your Majesty!" "Greetings, my foot! Who holds meetings at not even five AM?" I grumbled. "Your Majesty, morning court's always been this early," Fenlanlei said.
"Prime Minister, morning court's long scrapped. Tasks are assigned individually now, so this timing's gotta change. Government offices start at eight, right? From now on, the whole empire follows suit. We'll clarify this later—waking this early's bad for health," I said, feigning concern. (Per the classics: "Boss, never heard early rising's bad for you." Feitian: "Big bro, gimme some face! Early to bed, early to rise, sure, but I'm late to bed, early to rise! Wanna take a few of my wives off my hands?" Classics: "Drop dead! You dare pawn off your worn-out shoes? I'll make you a eunuch for life!" Feitian: "My dear brother, I'm sorry! Under your wise brilliance, I'll donate my 'essence' for the nation, no complaints!")
Sitting center, I sipped bitter kuding tea to jolt my brain. "Morning, everyone. You know why I called you. Let's cut to it. The demon invasion these past years wrecked our Flying Dragon Star's tribes. But now, we've driven them to the demon realm, our strength's unmatched, and our tech's soared, launching us into the space age. No more sticks and swords. This demands a robust government and fair laws to curb crime and protect our tribes' interests. Reform's a must. Xiaohe, pass the documents to the elders and lords," I ordered my secretary.
The elders, lords, and reps got the papers, outlining:
Five-Year Plan: Starting Heavenly Dragon Year 0001, the first five-year plan aims to double the empire's GDP by 0005. Everyone gets food and clothes, erasing poverty among minority tribes.
Legal Framework: "Equality before the law." Beyond the Marriage Law allowing men multiple wives while mandating respect for women, laws blend the best of Chinese and Western systems. Why waste centuries of human experience? I'm not reinventing the wheel—save effort where I can.
Ethnic Policy: The empire has eight tribes, including humans: cat, bear, wolf, tiger, dragon, elf, and fox, making up one-fifth of the population. Collectively, we're the Heavenly Dragon Tribe. I tweaked China's ethnic policies to fit. The old-timers stared like I was a god; the dragon elder was less shocked.
Military Structure: Four military districts—East Continent, West Continent, Dragon Island, and Yanhuang. Six legions: Yellow Dragon, White Dragon, Green Dragon, Black Dragon, Imperial Guard, and Rapid Response. Each legion has 10 large warships, 100 medium, 1,000 small, crewed by 40,000, with robots for other tasks, plus 60,000 ground troops and 10,000 logistics. Yellow Dragon's at Demon Saint Pass, White Dragon at Dragon Pass, Green Dragon at Dragon Island's Dragon City, Black Dragon on Yanhuang Star, Imperial Guard in Wudu, and Rapid Response in Beast Forest. Yanhuang's run by Chinese humans; the other districts split command by tribal population ratios. No complaints.
This month, we hashed out laws and policies based on these principles. Thank god my wives know this stuff, or I'd be bawling. No time even for street strolls. Since becoming emperor, beyond waging wars, I feel like I've got nothing to do. Hitting the streets is my only escape, but there's nothing to do there either. Today, I finally get a break.
Bored, I had Cohen roll out computers to major city centers. East Continent's network's decent—some small cities are online. West Continent, freshly reclaimed, only has it in big cities. Continent-Dragon Island links use satellites. An emperor should dive into people's lives to understand them, but I'm trailed by a posse every time. So, I surf the net—people speak freely online, no worries. This move's a hit, especially with Earth transplants. New worlds are fun at first, but old habits die hard. Earth's a network era, so the internet's vital here. To dodge Earth's pitfalls, we cap daily use at eight hours, require ID to log in, and ban under-16s from surfing. Violators go to juvie. Wartime's my excuse—schools are under military control. Kids only touch computers in class, and our AI, Bbi, sniffs out any game-playing fast. Empire rules, heh.
I hit "Magic-Martial Net" to solve folks' training queries. This government-run site teaches basic magic and martial arts. People used to think they'd live a few decades; now, with lifespans hundredfold longer, they're training hard. I used my clout to snag a moderator gig. (Per the classics: "Down with dictatorship, autocracy, empires!" Bricks fly. Reader A: "No empire, how's he gonna charm all those girls?" Reader B: "I love it, I'm throwing!")
Using our institute's KXYL chat tool, we talk across our star systems. My handle's "Emperor Feitian," but nobody believes I'm the real Majesty. I explained at first—got flamed to death, so I shut up. People's creativity and gullibility are wild. The net's barely up, and it's like the '90s classic: "On the internet, nobody knows you're a dog." Any name, nobody cares. I met an "I'm Empress Xue" —thought it was Xue'er. Checked the database: ugh, a 19-year-old dude. My wives cracked up. Good thing I'm not into that, or I'd drag him to "fulfill empress duties." Post-reform, I keep smashing my own foot with rocks. Like this—back in the day, who'd dare? Heads would roll.
I'm an enlightened emperor, but my wives saddled me with their KXYL IDs. Sometimes, I log on and bam—wives galore. Daytime talks spill online, pulling me into password-protected chatrooms for more sweet nothings. I'm wrecked. No emperor in history sweet-talked ninety-plus wives for three years, right? Today, they're out—finally, I can flirt with the empire's ladies online, heh.
A message popped up: friend request from "I'm Princess." A girl, nice! Peach blossom luck's unstoppable. I hit accept, waiting.
I'm Princess: "You really Feitian?" She didn't catch my title.
Emperor Feitian: "What's up, wanna pair up?"
I'm Princess: "You dare? Guys like you are a dime a dozen online, using His Majesty's name to scare folks."
Emperor Feitian: "You dare marry, I dare wed. A man's word is bond. But if you're too ugly, I'm returning you." Gotta hedge—Earth's "meet-and-die" blind dates are real.
I'm Princess: "Brother, it's Little Yan. I'm holding you to that—no backing out!" My head spun. First day hunting chicks, and I hit her? Who leaked my handle? Gotta kill 'em. Xue'er—she's the only one who's met Little Yan.
Emperor Feitian: "How'd you get my handle? And how're you online from the barracks?"
I'm Princess: "So clueless. Asked Commander Meng for your handle. And duh, barracks have nets. Where else would I go—Flying Dragon Star? You're overworked, huh?"
Emperor Feitian: "Not what I meant. You're supposed to be training, not surfing," I typed, smug for diverting her. Gotta delete her logs later, heh.
I'm Princess: "I'm an electronic soldier, so it's break time," Little Yan said, curious. Meng must've misread my orders, thinking I sent her to goof off. My bad for not being clear.
Emperor Feitian: "What're the other four doing?"
I'm Princess: "Training on the field. Their skills suck. Brother, I know you're dodging to delete my logs. I've backed 'em up—you're not wiggling out!" she gloated.
Emperor Feitian: "Little Yan, I've got tons of wives. I don't want you getting hurt. You're young—you'll find someone who truly loves you." Since when am I this noble, passing on a beauty?
I'm Princess: "Brother, you like me?"
No hesitation: "Yeah."
I'm Princess: "Would you let me get hurt?"
No way: "Nope."
I'm Princess: "That's that. With so many sisters and no complaints, you're clearly skilled. I won't lose out. Done deal—you tempted me to kiss you back then!" My head's toast—I've met my match. It's like a femme fatale set a trap, winking to lure me in. Little Yan, I just let you kiss my cheek—does it warrant this? You were a kid; it meant nothing. I'm logging off, or who knows what trouble I'll hit next.
Oh, Meng Jiang, you sold me out. You're in for it. I dialed the military line. "Yo, Meng Jiang?" "Your Majesty, it's me. Orders?" he replied, loud and respectful. "No biggie. Just checking on my sister—how's she doing?" "Rest assured, I'll keep her safe. Want to speak with her?" Meng asked cautiously. Bet he thinks she's my mistress or something, acting all nervous.
"Nah, just glad she's good. To reward you, I'm granting you a hundred women. Treat 'em well, or you know what happens," I threatened. Meng, on Yanhuang Star, broke into a cold sweat. A hundred women? Insane. He pictured himself drained like a husk by a bone demon, shivering. Four wives already push him to the limit.
"Your Majesty, I messed up. Please retract that decree," Meng pleaded, no fool, knowing I'm screwing with him. Good kid, owning up. "How's that fair? I'm the emperor, but we're brothers. When I'm living large, I can't forget you," I teased. Keep playing smart, punk.
"Your Majesty, we're brothers, and I appreciate it. But a hundred? That's more than you! As a brother, I wouldn't dare," Meng said, then froze—crap, he fell for my trap again.
"Too many? Fine, fifty. No less," I smirked. Checkmate. Just then, Meng's fourth wife grabbed the phone, sorting things out. "Your Majesty, you're brothers with my man, right?" A woman's voice—after Little Yan, I'm wary. Gotta tread carefully. "Yup."
"You wouldn't let him wreck his health, right?" I saw where this was going. "Of course not."
"Majesty, you don't know—our baby took three months of overtime to conceive. We were wiped out. Sending dozens more sisters? That'll kill him!" Hilarious. Meng piped up, "Why say that? Now everyone'll laugh me to death!"
She shot him a look. "Laughing's better than dying. You really wanna burn out for the empire?" Meng had no comeback. Four wives, yet he's scared of the youngest. Why're good guys always whipped?