On the vast and boundless Aelia Continent, there was a renowned kingdom called Lannister. It was like a dazzling pearl, radiating an aura of awe and irresistible power across the land.
The capital of this kingdom was dominated by a magnificent and breathtaking castle. Its sheer scale was enough to make anyone who saw it gasp in amazement and stand in stunned silence. The castle was like a majestic, enormous beast, firmly entrenched in place, exuding a powerful, intimidating, and inviolable presence.
The castle walls were exceptionally thick and strong, meticulously constructed from massive stone blocks. These stones had weathered the passage of time, bearing witness to countless thrilling wars and the relentless erosion of storms. Yet, they stood firm and unyielding, like loyal and fearless sentinels, guarding the land.
Each stone carried the unparalleled glory of the Lannister family for hundreds of years. The mottled marks left upon them by the ages were like silent but deeply moving chronicles, quietly narrating the rise and fall, the ups and downs of this family. When the breeze blew, it seemed possible to hear whispers from the distant past, recounting former glories and hardships.
Inside the castle, in the resplendent grand hall, gold and silver treasures were piled up like rolling mountains. Exquisite jewels were as numerous as stars, and glittering gold coins resembled a shimmering golden sea. Reflected in the flickering candlelight, they emitted a dazzling light, like countless sparkling stars twinkling in the deep night sky.
The amount of wealth here was beyond imagination, enough to drive anyone mad with desire. Even the greediest person, upon entering, would be stunned by this astonishing wealth.
The scene in the armory was even more breathtaking. Various fine weapons and equipment were neatly arranged in an orderly fashion. The cold blades of swords gleamed with a captivating cold light, and the sharp spears were so keen they seemed capable of piercing through anything. They stood there silently, like loyal guards awaiting their master's call.
Ready to be deployed at any moment, they were like slumbering Mighty Lions, ready to awaken in an instant and charge onto the battlefield with the force of thunder at the slightest roar from their master.
These weapons not only represented the Lannister family's immense strength but also perfectly displayed their mastery of the art of war. It was as if they were naturally gifted war artists, using weapons as magical brushes to paint magnificent, breathtaking pictures on the smoke-filled battlefields.
The Lannister family's wealth and power stemmed from their firm control of trade and their unparalleled craftsmanship.
Around the castle, the bustling market was like a radiant, dazzling mountain of gold, exuding endless charm and strongly attracting merchants from all over.
The merchants, without regard for hardship, brought their precious goods, such as flawless pearls, delicate silk, and sparkling gems, traveling thousands of miles to trade here. Because of this, the castle had become a thriving, bustling commercial center.
At the same time, the Lannister family also possessed a powerful army that could be called elite. They were well-trained, every movement was uniform, and every attack was swift and powerful. Their combat effectiveness was extremely strong, like an extremely sharp sword that could cut through iron, always defending the family's supreme dignity.
The existence of this army was like an unbreakable steel Great Wall, ensuring the family's safety. The powerful aura they exuded made enemies fearful just by looking at them from afar.
In addition to their significant advantages in material aspects, the Lannister family also had a very deep cultural foundation.
The library inside the castle was like a treasure trove of knowledge, containing a large number of precious and valuable books. The fields covered by these books were extremely wide, ranging from ancient and mysterious history to thought-provoking philosophy, to exploring unknown science, and so on. It could be said to be all-encompassing, constantly providing the family members with a rich source of knowledge.
Whenever family members stepped into this library, they felt as though they were immersed in an ocean of wisdom, able to absorb knowledge and broaden their horizons and thinking.
In addition, the castle housed numerous talented artists and erudite scholars. The artists' ingenious works, whether beautiful paintings, lifelike sculptures, or flowing calligraphy, were all breathtaking; the scholars' in-depth and forward-looking research results provided solid theoretical support for the family's development in various fields.
Their presence was like brilliant stars, adding a rich and unique cultural atmosphere to the family, making the Lannister family shine brightly in the cultural sky.
In short, the Lannister Kingdom, with its unparalleled financial strength, its indomitable military might, and its unique cultural charm, deservedly became one of the most prominent and eye-catching powerful forces on the Aelia Continent.
The far-reaching influence they exerted was like a powerful storm, sweeping across the entire continent. It made other countries envious while also filled with deep fear.
However, behind this seemingly brilliant and impeccable facade, the Lannister family was actually facing countless severe challenges and potential crises. The fierce and cruel power struggles, like a silent but thrilling secret war, were quietly taking place within the family; the covetous gazes and hidden attacks from external forces formed a huge threat, like a dense cloud always hovering over the family; and the constant intensification of internal conflicts was like an ant nest hidden inside the fortress, which could erode the family's foundation at any time.
But no matter how many thorns were on the road ahead, no matter how unpredictable the future situation might be, the Lannister Kingdom still resembled a never-fading brilliant pearl on the Aelia Continent, and its glorious achievements would forever be engraved in the vast and magnificent long river of history, shining brightly and never fading.
Hu Yulun, when this name was mentioned, it seemed to come with an inherent, eye-catching noble temperament, and he himself displayed this nobility to the fullest.
As a young nobleman from such a prominent family, he had grown up in the dreamlike atmosphere of the Court since childhood. The Court was like a magnificent castle woven with dreams and luxury.
The environment he lived in was like a meticulously crafted, beautiful palace, overflowing with luxury and permeated with elegance. Here, every detail was refined like a work of art, and every seemingly insignificant action needed to strictly follow specific rules; any mistake could cause trouble.
Hu Yulun was like a rare gem held in everyone's palm and carefully cherished. In the Court, this garden filled with flowers and vying for beauty, he eagerly absorbed all kinds of knowledge and skills.
He was as familiar with everything in the Court as he was with his own palm prints. Whether it was the complicated seating arrangements at grand banquets or the carefully chosen words and tone when communicating with nobles of different ranks, he could handle it all with ease and precision.
Every time he appeared, he always had a confident smile, his eyes bright and firm, and his words and deeds were full of elegance and composure. For example, at a certain banquet, he bowed slightly and politely greeted a noble: "Esteemed sir, I wish you a pleasant day." His well-chosen words were pleasant to hear, making people feel like they were bathed in a spring breeze and couldn't help but be deeply moved.
Hu Yulun had a keen sense, as if from the depths of his soul, of the delicate balance of power, which was as subtle as a veil dancing lightly. He often pondered, "In this game of power, every step must be taken with caution."
He was like a seasoned helmsman, able to accurately grasp the direction of progress in the turbulent and unpredictable sea of power.
He deeply understood how to skillfully navigate the intricate and labyrinthine network of relationships in the Court and how to use his unique advantages to strive for more benefits. This extraordinary ability allowed him to thrive in the Court, becoming the focus of everyone's attention with ease, and becoming the most dazzling and unforgettable presence in the starry sky.
Hu Yulun's father, the renowned, respected, and highly esteemed King's Advisor in the Court, was undoubtedly a shining, irreplaceable beacon and mentor in his long life.
His father was tall and upright, much like an ancient, sturdy pine tree that had weathered countless storms but still stood proudly. His deep, profound eyes often revealed a wisdom only possessed by the wise, as if he could effortlessly see through all the secrets of the world. His snow-white hair, like the marks left by the merciless painter of time, each silver strand silently told the moving story of his tireless efforts and dedication to Court affairs over many years.
Whenever facing Hu Yulun, his father always wore a complex expression of both love and seriousness. He would gently pat Hu Yulun's shoulder and earnestly teach him, "Yulun, you must know that Court politics are like a sea with surging undercurrents and unfathomable depths. The surface may seem calm, but underneath, waves are rolling. Power struggles are even more cruel and ruthless; one misstep can lead to eternal damnation. As for interpersonal relationships, they are intricate, like a dense net that's hard to escape."
Hu Yulun always stared at his father, his eyes filled with admiration and concentration, nodding solemnly from time to time, responding, "Father, I will definitely remember your teachings."
Under his father's careful and unreserved guidance, Hu Yulun learned many strategies of Court politics, how to deal with power struggles, and the clever methods of handling interpersonal relationships. These precious experiences were like shining pearls, deeply embedded in Hu Yulun's heart. They would accompany him throughout his long and challenging life, becoming the solid foundation for him to stand firm and move freely in the Court.
However, the wheel of fate, without any warning, suddenly began to spin wildly and rapidly, like a runaway horse. A sudden Court Coup, like a ferocious, unexpected storm, swept through the originally calm and peaceful Court with a destructive, overwhelming force.
It was a day filled with gloom, making one's heart tremble and feel oppressed. The sky was completely covered by layers of dark, ink-like clouds. Those heavy clouds were like huge, heavy black blocks of lead, pressing down on the Court, like a mountain that could collapse at any moment, ruthlessly crushing the entire Court. The sunlight tried its best but, like a caged beast, couldn't penetrate the airtight darkness.
A suffocating atmosphere permeated the Court, as if the air had frozen into ice, making each breath difficult. The conspirators were like venomous snakes hidden in dark corners, waiting for an opportunity, their tongues flickering coldly and creepily, quietly and discreetly launching that fatal blow.
When Hu Yulun heard the devastating news, his face instantly turned ashen, devoid of any color. His hands trembled like leaves in a cold wind, and his lips quivered uncontrollably as he muttered, "How can this be? This is impossible! This must be a conspiracy, a slander!" His eyes were filled with disbelief and burning rage, making him resemble a Mighty Lion provoked.
"Father, I will clear your name! I will spare no cost!" He clenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles turned white, veins bulging on his forehead as he gritted his teeth and vowed.
Hu Yulun's father, a man who was once respected and trusted everywhere he went, a figure who always garnered admiring glances, had, in a single night, fallen from grace like a shooting star, becoming a target of everyone's ire. The people in the Court, those faces that once wore obsequious smiles, now cast him glances filled with disgust and wariness, gazes that felt like sharp blades piercing his heart. The so-called friends who had once drunk with him, swearing brotherhood, now fled as if avoiding a plague. Their hurried figures seemed to be telling of their inner fear, fearing to be associated even in the slightest with this man labeled a "traitor."
Hu Yulun himself felt as if he had plunged from the clouds into an abyss of endless pain. His brow was furrowed all day, like two deep ravines, and his eyes were empty and lost, as if devoid of a soul. He often sat in a corner, hands clasped to his head, muttering to himself, "Why? Why is this happening?" He didn't understand why such absurd and unbelievable things had happened, nor did he know how to face the sudden, cataclysmic changes before him.
The impact of the Court Coup was far more than just a personal tragedy; it was like a violent, merciless superstorm that brought devastating upheaval to the entire nation. The government changed hands in a storm of blood and gore, and the fierce power struggles were terrifying. People's hearts were like startled birds, living in constant fear. Social order instantly plunged into chaos, and the streets were filled with unease and fear. The once bustling markets became deserted, shops closed their doors, and people hurried along, afraid to linger on the streets.
Hu Yulun witnessed all this firsthand, and a volcano of anger seemed to erupt within him, scorching his heart with hot magma. It was also as if a boundless, helpless ocean was churning wildly, ready to swallow him whole. He clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white with force, his gaze firm and resolute. He roared in his heart like thunder: "I can't just sit here and wait to die! I must stand up and seek justice for Father, even if the road ahead is full of thorns, even if I'm crushed to pieces, I will never retreat! At the same time, I must do everything I can to restore stability to the nation!"
So, Hu Yulun unhesitatingly and resolutely decided to embark on a long journey, full of thorns and hardship. His eyes shone, he bit his lips until they bled, and secretly vowed in his heart: "I must find the truth and clear Father's name! Even if it costs me my life, I won't hesitate!"
Along the way, he encountered many unimaginable and terrifying difficulties and challenges. When the wind raged, he trudged along the muddy, uneven road, each step sinking deep into the quagmire. The rain poured down, soaking his clothes mercilessly, and the coldness seeped into his bones, but it still couldn't extinguish the burning fire of his belief.
Under the scorching sun, his mouth was dry, as if his throat was about to smoke, and his steps were as unsteady as if he were walking on cotton. His vision swam, but he stubbornly refused to stop his forward march. He never had, and absolutely would not have, the thought of giving up, not even for a fleeting moment.
Because right there, under the eyes of a crowd filled with grief and indignation, Hu Yulun's Father was brutally dragged towards the Execution Ground by a group of soldiers, as savage and ferocious as wolves. His hands were tightly bound by heavy, cold chains, which clinked together, making a cold and piercing "clatter" sound. Each sound was like a merciless mockery and wanton trampling of justice.
His eyes were filled with surging anger and unyielding defiance, a deep-seated, bone-deep pain of being wronged. He struggled with all his might, the veins on his neck bulging, and he tried to shout and defend himself with all his might: "I have been wronged! I am loyal to the country, as the sun and moon can attest! You villains who twist black and white!" The mournful voice echoed violently through the Palace's empty corridors, but it was mercilessly drowned out by the arrogant clamor of the conspirators, like a drop of water falling into a raging sea, instantly disappearing without a trace.
Hu Yulun stood nearby, frozen in place. His eyes were wide, bloodshot, and on the verge of tears. His body trembled uncontrollably. He watched as his Father's dignity was ruthlessly trampled, his life cruelly and brutally taken. In that instant, he felt as if the world was collapsing, the foundation of his spirit crumbling. The entire world plunged into darkness, suffocating him.
The once flourishing and glorious Imperial Court, which had seemed so vibrant, now appeared to him as a fragile illusion. Some of the Nobles were coldly watching, their chins slightly raised, their eyes filled with malicious glee or indifference, occasionally whispering and sneering. Others showed signs of distress, their lips pressed into a tight line, brows furrowed, hands clenched into fists, chests heaving with anger. But they dared not speak out, only sighing helplessly in their hearts, fearing to bring disaster upon themselves.
The atmosphere in the Imperial Court was as heavy as lead, suffocating, as if everyone was about to be crushed into dust by the invisible pressure, even each breath was labored. The tension and fear in the air was like an invisible net, tightly binding everyone, unable to escape.
Hu Yulun felt his heart pounding wildly, the sound of "thump, thump, thump" becoming increasingly clear and rapid in his ears. His chest heaved violently, each breath was difficult and short. He clenched his fists tightly, his knuckles turning white from the force, his nails digging deep into his palms, piercing the skin, and blood slowly seeping out. But he seemed to have lost all feeling, oblivious to the piercing pain.
His body leaned forward, his feet seemingly nailed to the ground, wanting to break free and rush to save his Father. The urge within him surged like a tidal wave, constantly crashing against his rational defenses, "No, I must save Father, I can't let them take him away!" But the remaining shred of reason was like a cold, solid shackle, ruthlessly dragging him back. He cried out in pain in his heart, "No, don't be impulsive, acting rashly will be useless and only plunge yourself into the abyss, and then Father's injustice will never be cleared!"
Hu Yulun's gaze burned like a flame, intense and resolute, following his Father's fading silhouette. Tears flowed like a broken dam, blurring his vision instantly. His throat felt as if it were choked by a large, sharp stone, each breath accompanied by a broken sob. He choked, his voice trembling and full of sorrow, muttering, "Father, you are innocent, this blatant injustice is clearly a victim of a dirty political struggle." However, facing the enemy, so powerful it was almost suffocating, he felt so small and weak, like a withered leaf in a raging wind, unable to control his own destiny. The endless grief and helplessness in his heart burned like a raging fire, searing his soul.
The power struggles of the Imperial Court were cruel and merciless, like sharp blades, wantonly cutting into the fates of everyone, shattering everything beautiful. Hu Yulun deeply realized that he must become incredibly strong, strong enough to stand against this dark and powerful force, to protect himself and his family from further harm, and to seek justice for his Father.
Hu Yulun knew in his heart, as clear as a mirror, that he had become the center of attention in this seemingly glamorous but treacherous Imperial Court. The gazes of those with ulterior motives were like cold, venomous snakes, emitting a malicious and greedy aura, locking onto him. Their sinister eyes seemed to say, "Boy, your fate is in our hands." At any moment, they could open their bloody mouths and devour him mercilessly. This Imperial Court, which had once made him feel honored and safe, was no longer a warm haven, but rather a gloomy, terrifying tomb, filled with the stench of death, ready to bury him mercilessly at any time.
Thus, in the inky blackness of that impenetrable night, Hu Yulun, like a vigilant lone wolf, took advantage of the soft moonlight to conceal himself. Holding his breath, he silently changed into the most humble of servant's attire.
His hands trembled slightly, his movements cautious to the extreme, as if he were holding not clothing, but the most fragile treasure in the world. He carefully hid his formerly resplendent, luxurious noble garments, his eyes filled with longing and reluctance. The silk embroidered with his Family Crest was meticulously folded, each movement brimming with nostalgia and determination. He murmured silently to himself, "Farewell, to the past me." It was as if he were bidding a final, heavy, and sorrowful farewell to the carefree, pampered version of himself.
Then, a trace of bitterness appeared on his face as he slowly put on a coarse cloth garment. The rough, sandpaper-like texture of the fabric constantly rubbed against his delicate skin, each touch like a merciless lash, making him keenly aware of the unbearable disparity in his current status.
His face was etched with grief and despair. His furrowed brows were seemingly locked by a heavy burden, never to be smoothed. His tightly pursed lips revealed a stubbornness, as if conveying his inner resentment. However, deep within his dull, ashen eyes, a resolute, unwavering light always flickered, like a stubbornly burning flame in the darkness.
He slowly reached out his hand, his fingers slightly stiff with tension, and gently closed the door. The action was so light that it was barely more than a whisper, fearing that even the slightest sound would attract attention. His figure was like a phantom in the dark night, silent and unseen, as he quietly left the magnificent Palace that had once been filled with endless glory and supreme power.
"I will definitely return, definitely!" he vowed silently, his footsteps becoming firmer, resolutely marching towards the unknown darkness.
The moment he stepped out of the Palace gates, he was as if he had been struck by a binding spell. His feet felt as though they were weighed down by heavy lead blocks, and he couldn't help but slowly and laboriously turn his head back for a look. The Palace still stood there, majestic and cold, solemn and imposing, exuding an aura that inspired awe, yet also caused a chill to run through him.
However, under the heavy cover of the ink-like night, its outline appeared so eerie and terrifying, like a giant haunted castle. Especially the towering towers that pierced the night sky. In the hazy and strange moonlight, they seemed to transform into a ferocious beast lurking in the abyss of darkness, opening its gaping maw, ready to swallow the heavens and the earth, with endless greed and ferocity, as if it couldn't wait to devour him mercilessly.
His face was etched with complex emotions. His eyes held a deep longing and nostalgia for the beautiful past. The former glory and warmth flickered before him like a series of colorful, magnificent paintings, constantly flashing and overlapping. Yet, there was also extreme confusion and fear for the uncertain future. The unknown path ahead was like a fog-laden, perilous swamp, leaving him feeling utterly lost and helpless.
Has everything really ended like this? What am I supposed to do now? He murmured painfully to himself.
However, his footsteps didn't pause even for a moment. Instead, like a tightly wound, frantically spinning gear, he accelerated. His ears perked up, and every hair on his body trembled with tension, as if he could hear the faint, indistinct footsteps behind him. The sound grew closer and clearer, as if countless ferocious, evil ghosts were madly chasing him. Each sound was like a death knell, making his heart leap into his throat.
With each step, his heartbeat accelerated like a rapid war drum, drumming "dong dong dong" incessantly, as if about to burst through his chest. Cold sweat, like large beads, began to uncontrollably pour from his forehead, rapidly sliding down his cheeks, leaving icy, stinging trails.
He hastily crossed the once magnificent, now desolate and withered garden outside the Imperial Court. The flowers that once bloomed vibrantly and competed for beauty had now withered and fallen, leaving only a few broken branches and leaves trembling in the night wind, rustling in a mournful sound. They appeared blurred and indistinct in the night, as if they were also mourning his tragic fate, weeping for the injustice of fate.
He continued to run desperately forward, his chest heaving violently, sounding like a bellows. In his heart, he prayed, "Heaven, please have mercy and protect me so that I can escape smoothly. I don't know what awaits me ahead, whether it's the dawn of hope or deeper darkness. But I know clearly that only by leaving here can I have a chance to find new hope, and clear Father's name from this injustice."