Damn, She Really Read It
"How extraordinary. This was really written by someone from the Empire?"
"Yes, Your Highness. So it seems."
Her black hair cascaded down like ebony, an exotic sight. Uncommon in the Empire, but a familiar hue in the lands far to the east. That alone suggested the woman receiving bows from the man in Eastern garb hailed from those distant extremities.
Anyone could tell her status was no ordinary one from the ornate sword tucked diagonally at her waist, its hilt gleaming with intricate inlays. Her skin was as white as fine jade—commonplace to the point of cliché in Kun'Rung—contrasting sharply with her glossy, ink-black locks that shimmered like polished ebony. It was as if light and shadow had fused into one perfect form. Her crimson eyes lent a strange distortion to her Eastern features, yet from it sprang an otherworldly beauty.
"Fascinating. This Clan seems to refer to something like the sects back home. What do you think, Shen?"
The black-haired girl addressed her guard, holding in her hand the novel that had lately set the Empire ablaze. Shen, her bodyguard knight, bowed his head. His liege was royalty from Kun'Rung. Meeting her gaze without leave would violate decorum.
"For a novel by such a young author, it shows remarkable boldness. The Empire's novels tend to be stiff and formal. Compared to them, this reads far more comfortably."
"Our homeland's novels are stiff too, in their own way. How intriguing. Alan Edgar von Mueller. Hard to believe this came from the scion of the Sword King family."
Lin, the ebony-haired girl, flipped pages with evident delight. Shen added, "As a son of the Sword King house, his knowledge of swordsmanship must be exceptional. Writing skill is another matter entirely."
"True enough. But it makes me curious. It's hard to dismiss this as mere fantasy."
Thud. The book snapped shut. Lin set it down and rose.
"To think the Western Empire has a writer like this. I assumed it was overrun with pedants churning out dusty tomes."
"Please refrain from such words, Your Highness."
"I know."
The sole princess of the Eastern Empire, which dominated the Kun'Rung region. Even a casual remark from her carried immense weight. That was the burden of representing a nation as its imperial blood. For Lin, the only princess—who would ascend as empress upon returning home after her studies—that gravity was all the heavier.
"I'm looking forward to the academy entrance ceremony."
"It's tomorrow. He'll draw attention wherever he goes, so you might cross paths immediately. Or we could contact House Mueller now."
"That would be imposing, Shen."
"...My apologies."
Brushing off her overzealous guard, Lin stepped forward.
"Shall we take a stroll? I need to familiarize myself with the layout anyway."
"I shall accompany you."
This world had way too little to do. No smartphones, no computers, no tantalizing music to fill the ears, no K-pop or anime to binge. Without TV or PCs, the options boiled down to pricey hobbies like horseback riding, theater, or opera.
Reading was the cheapest diversion, but limited to novels, Alan had zilch worth his time.
"...Yeah, this is unreadable. Is this even a novel?"
Even the Empire's bestsellers looked like trash to Alan's eyes. Brick-thick prose that choked him just scanning it. A far cry from webnovels' snappy, no-frills style—about a hundred thousand light-years apart, really. Every page gave him a headache.
"I'm reading to relax, and it hurts my brain. Who writes this crap?"
He could see why novels were a noble pastime. They'd only trickled down to commoners after paper production scaled up. Pre-internet, they were for niche readers or school assignments. Most folks never touched one after graduation if they weren't hooked.
Then internet novels boomed, rental shops paved the way, and trailblazers ushered in the webnovel era. The market exploded. Alan had lived in that world.
"No clue what people see in this garbage."
The plots? Worshipping the deified founder-emperor or hero-worshipping the throne. Not that epics or war tales couldn't be fun—it was the cookie-cutter execution that sucked.
Alan tossed the book aside like junk.
"Ah, entrance ceremony's tomorrow, huh?"
Volume 2's manuscript was shaping up. The snag? Academy life would swamp him.
"At least I'm the duke's youngest. Small mercies."
Born to nobodies instead? His name leaking would've invited endless duels. House Mueller's rep shielded him. Without the Sword King's lineage, someone would've called him out already.
"Academy life..."
Nothing like his old school, surely. Excitement bubbled at studying in a fantasy academy from novels. Still, Albert and Alice warned it was grueling.
"And now this Eastern Empire princess coming over..."
Two empires ruled the continent: the Eastern Empire over Kun'Rung in the far east, and the Western Empire sharing hegemony.
Alan, naturally, was Western-born. He'd heard of the princess recently.
"...No way she's read my novel, right?"
Please no, he prayed. Slim odds, sure, but hope sprang eternal.
"People always check it out if you tell 'em not to."
Alan scratched his cheek.
"Hate running into her at the ceremony."
Nobility had perks, but he preferred distance from VIPs. Get too close, and who knew when you'd get kidnapped or worse. Without the duke's protection, dangers lurked everywhere.
"Wait, am I in a pretty risky spot...?"
So damn loud...
The next day at the entrance ceremony, Alan faced a sea of people. Nobles, commoners, Kun'Rung exchange students, delegations from continental kingdoms. Strong personalities clashed; they clustered by faction.
Alan blended with Empire freshmen.
"That's the famous Mueller duke's...?"
"Yup. Alan Edgar von Mueller. Hard to believe the Shuren Chronicle guy is our age. No way."
"Maybe he ghostwrote it? Same age as us."
"Ghostwriters exist, so possible."
Whispers stabbed like arrows. Alan grimaced faintly.
Ghostwriting, really...?
For a writer, ghosting was taboo. Selling someone else's work as your own? Alan, who saw peddling unpenned prose as selling your soul, bristled.
No point snapping at kids who don't get it.
Who'd buy a 16-year-old academy newbie penned the Shuren Chronicle? Denial was their cope. No need to overthink.
Pretty spacious.
Alan craned his neck at the dome-stadium-sized auditorium, whistling inwardly.
Princess Lin from Kun'Rung is entering.
A jolt snapped him alert. Alan looked up to see a black-haired girl in wuxia-novel robes ascending the podium. Subtle Japanese vibes made it surreal.
What the...?
Kun'Rung wasn't purely Zhonghua-styled, apparently.
"Heard a Kun'Rung princess studying abroad is super rare..."
"Yeah. And she's the emperor's only kid."
"For real?"
"Yup. That's why Kun'Rung's group has all those... what, martial artists? Warriors? Like our knights."
Princess intel flowed freely—no digging needed. Alan itched to whip out a notebook but held back.
I hope you are well. I am Lin Xiao Mei, princess of Kun'Rung.
A lovely voice. As a wuxia author, Alan clocked its refined timbre before its beauty. The rowdy hall hushed instantly.
Chinese-style name too? Kun'Rung's a cultural mashup?
Such trivia flitted through as Lin's words pierced:
Lately, thanks to the Shuren Chronicle, interest in Kun'Rung has surged. Joyful days.
Cough. Damn, she really read it...!!
