In this world, indeed, there is no one who cannot be bought. You can bait or compromise them with "justice," "integrity," "belief," and the like—possessions beyond material wealth. This is also a kind of bribery.
But Prince Fu is only a tributary prince. Perhaps all he has is money. This type of prince has no soldiers and no power. Maybe he has a bit of dignity left, but once you’re associated with his dignity, your reputation will stink.
Prince Fu gave a somewhat embarrassed, reserved, and shy smile.
"What does that laugh mean? You can’t possibly be broke, can you?"
Prince Fu rubbed his hands together and said, "Actually, I’m quite poor."
Silence ensued, lasting for about a minute.
Xue Three asked, "Are you... high?"
A bitter smile touched Prince Fu’s lips. "Can ’high’ be interpreted as being under the influence of drugs?"
"You’re very clever. So clever that I find you rather frightening. I consider myself a smart man, but in your presence, sir, I admit defeat."
"Oh, that’s because you haven’t met someone even smarter. He’s blind. If he were here, I reckon he wouldn’t need to think before declaring you’re on drugs."
"Is that so? I’ve always enjoyed interacting with intelligent people."
Saying this, Prince Fu lowered his head to look at Man Le, who lay breathless on the ground. He shook his head and said, "He wasn’t a smart man."
Apparently, Prince Fu had known Man Le’s identity for quite some time.
But the Silver Armored Guard is a secret service organization directly under the Emperor. They infiltrate your ranks. Even if you discover one, you have to pretend you didn’t.
That regional commander was just like that. He knew full well his wife was a Silver Armored Guard, yet he still enthusiastically offered up the public grain, of which there was already little stock.
"That guy was a complete idiot. He probably took you for an idiot too, which is why he never really bothered to hide his nature. His every move and gesture practically screamed to everyone that he was a Martial Cultivator."
Xue Three had been watching for quite some time and had figured out Man Le’s background long ago.
"You’re not much different. Your panic earlier wasn’t entirely feigned."
"So, you were bluffing me earlier."
"I don’t like doing pointless things. When I came in, some of your muscle reactions gave you away. I’m quite sensitive to that sort of thing."
"You have a keen eye, sir." ᴛʜɪs ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪs ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ʙʏ NoveI(F)ire.net
"No need for flattery. Let’s get back to our original topic. Although you look plump, Prince, your martial arts skills should be quite good. That move when you slapped the ground, that shockwave... TSK TSK, an Eighth Rank Martial Cultivator probably couldn’t produce that, right?"
He thought this because Prince Fu hadn’t mobilized his qi and blood, and there was no glow. As for why he used an Eighth Rank Martial Cultivator as an example, it was because My lord was an Eighth Rank, so everyone had a thorough understanding of what an Eighth Rank martial artist was capable of. Living with various demon kings, eating together, basking in the sun together—how could anyone keep any secrets?
Prince Fu said, "My identity is somewhat special. I need to keep a low profile."
"No, I’ve mentioned this issue before. Once the city falls, your life might be forfeit unless you’re confident you can move freely within this siege. Otherwise, there’s no need for you to hide your strength at this time. Afraid of suspicion from the court? That’s not a concern, at least not right now."
Prince Fu narrowed his eyes. Already small due to his chubbiness, they became almost imperceptible.
"Then in your opinion, sir, what is the reason?"
"Afraid? There are indeed many things that I am afraid of."
As a tributary prince, one must be wary of watchful eyes from the court, whether from civil officials or the one on the Dragon Throne. They are inherently suspicious and scrutinizing towards tributary princes.
To the civil officials, the royal families of tributary princes are parasites on the state and potential sources of instability. For the one on the Dragon Throne, while a tributary prince may seem like kin, the relationship is, in reality, an extremely delicate game of "kill or be killed."
"No, what you’re afraid of is actually very simple. Don’t overthink it or intentionally beat around the bush with me. What you fear is straightforward. In short, you are simply afraid."
Prince Fu patted his belly and asked, "How so?"
"Stop pretending to be calm. I’ll be direct: you’re very strong."
"Can you tell me, what rank are you exactly?"
"Sixth Rank Martial Cultivator."
Xue Three dramatically sucked in a breath. Prince Fu added, "I briefly reached Fifth Rank, but for some reason, I slipped back to Sixth Rank."
A knowing smile touched Xue Three’s lips.
Prince Fu opened his palm, and a purple halo rose from it. Under the violet light, Prince Fu’s complexion flickered.
The surprise and fear on Xue Three’s face quickly vanished. He shrugged and said, "See? Even though you’re being so cooperative, you’re still afraid."
Prince Fu turned his palm over and fell silent.
"When a person is afraid, they often lose some of their..." Xue Three tapped his temple. "...rationality."
"Yes, rationality. Because fear will engulf your rationality, making you involuntarily succumb to its influence."