If there was one thing my life as a corporate shark in 2026 taught me, it was this: when things are going too well, a disaster is usually putting on its shoes.

  I had spent the last week after the "Sneeze Incident" pretending to be a very diligent, very average five-year-old. I spent my mornings "struggling" to lift a wooden sword and my afternoons "failing" to memorize the basic characters of the Divine Realm’s script. I thought I was doing a great job of lowering expectations.

  But then, the Western border bells rang.

  The Qin Empire—the Rank 2 military juggernaut of the Heavenridge Continent—had sent an envoy. And they weren't sending diplomats or scholars. They were sending the "Heavenridge War Prince," the Eldest Son Qin Zhanlong, and the family’s youngest terror, Qin Chenfeng.

  I sat on a small jade stool in the Audience Hall, flanked by my brothers and sisters. My siblings were vibrating with a terrifying mix of protective instincts and "recruitment" energy.

  "Listen, Xian-er," my eldest brother, Lu Tianhao, whispered, his hand resting on the hilt of his dragon-engraved sword. "The Qin family are battle-maniacs. They don't understand the 'subtle arts' of our family. If they try to bully you, don't use your 'Sneeze of the Primordial God.' It’s too good for them. Just blink twice, and I’ll send them back to the Qin border in a hundred different pieces."

  "Brother, please," I muttered, my inner businessman screaming for a PR manager. "We are a peaceful empire. Let's not start a world war because someone looked at me funny."

  "Peace is for those who aren't currently being hunted for the throne, Little Brother," Lu Chenyi, the 4th brother, added with a wink. "I’ve already rigged the floorboards of the guest quarters. If they breathe too loudly, they’ll fall into a pit of 'mildly inconvenient' formation traps."

  Suddenly, the heavy doors of the hall burst open. No, they didn't just open; they were kicked inward with enough force to send a gust of wind whistling through the chamber.

  A boy, no older than eight, blurred into the room. He didn't walk; he flickered like a glitching video game character. One second he was at the door, the next he was standing three feet in front of me, his nose inches from mine.

  He wore blood-red robes and had a wild, jagged scar across his left forearm. His eyes were like two emerald storms. This was Qin Chenfeng, the youngest of the Qin family, the one with the fastest growth rate in the history of the West.

  "So," Chenfeng said, his voice crackling with excitement. "You're the one who sneezed a 9th Stage Qi Gathering disciple into a fountain?"

  I did what any sensible, peace-loving "Shark" would do. I let a bit of drool escape the corner of my mouth and stared at him with empty, vacant eyes. "I... I like ducks. Do you have a ducky?"

  Chenfeng’s eyes narrowed. He circled me like a shark—a real one, not a corporate one. "Don't play with me, Lu Xian. My father says the Lu family are all 'Hidden Foxes.' You’re suppressing your Qi. I can feel the space around you warping. It’s like standing next to a black hole that’s trying to pretend it’s a puddle."

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  Damn it, I thought. These Qin kids don't follow the script. They don't care about politeness; they only care about vibes!

  "I don't know what a 'black hole' is," I said, putting on my best 'innocent child' voice. "Is it a type of cake? Mother says I can't have cake until after the ceremony."

  "Enough!" A booming voice thundered from the entrance.

  A tall, imposing teenager strode in. This was Qin Zhanlong, the Eldest Prince. He carried a spear that looked like it was forged from the spine of a dragon. His aura was suffocating—the Rank 2 Empire's pride personified.

  My father, Emperor Lu Tian, sat on his throne, looking bored but secretly clutching his armrest so hard the jade was cracking. He was enjoying this far too much.

  "Emperor Lu," Qin Zhanlong said, performing a perfunctory bow. "My father, the War-Emperor, sends his greetings. He also sends a challenge. The Qin and Lu empires have been allies-in-rivalry for a thousand years. It is only fitting that our youngest generations test each other’s mettle."

  "A test?" my father asked, his voice echoing. "My Seventh Prince is only five. Your Chenfeng is eight and already at the Peak of Qi Gathering. Surely, this is a bit... lopsided?"

  "I'll fight with one hand tied behind my back!" Chenfeng shouted, drawing a dagger that glowed with a vicious wind-element light. "No, I'll fight using only my left foot! Just let me see that sneeze again!"

  I looked at my siblings. They were all smiling. Not the "Oh no, our brother is in danger" smile. It was the "Oh boy, we get to see Xian-er accidentally conquer another Empire" smile.

  "Xian-er," my 3rd sister, Yueran, said, stepping forward. She adjusted my collar, but I felt her secretly slip a 100% Purity Berserker Pill into my pocket. "Don't be afraid. Just remember your 'Basic Breathing.' If you happen to 'accidentally' break his ribs, I have the medicine ready."

  "I don't want to break ribs!" I hissed at her. "I want to go to the kitchen and hide in the flour bin!"

  "The spar will take place in the Heaven-Falling Arena tomorrow morning," the Emperor declared, ignoring my silent pleas for mercy. "Until then, our Qin guests will stay in the Jade Orchid Pavilion."

  As the Qin brothers left, Chenfeng pointed a finger at me. "Tomorrow, Lu Xian! I’m going to show you that speed beats power every time! Prepare to be the second-most famous genius in the continent!"

  He vanished in a blur of wind.

  I stood there, alone in the center of the hall, as my siblings began discussing what kind of victory feast we should have.

  "He's too fast," I whispered to myself. "If I try to lose, he might actually hit me. If I hit him back, I’m the next Emperor. There is no winning here."

  I looked at the floorboards. I looked at my small, five-year-old hands.

  Wait, I thought, a spark of my old "Shark" brain lighting up. He said he’s the fastest. If I can't be weaker than him, and I can't be slower than him... what if I make the match so confusing that the judges call it a draw? A draw is a diplomat's best friend. It’s the corporate 'No-Op.'

  I spent the rest of the night not practicing martial arts, but studying the rules of the arena. I needed a loophole. I needed a way to satisfy the battle-maniacs without becoming their new idol.

  Little did I know, while I was planning a "No-Op," my 6th sister Lingshu was already outside, taking bets from the city’s nobles. The odds for me winning by "Accidental Sneeze" were currently 2-to-1.

  My own family was betting against my failure.

  I sat by the window of my nursery, looking out at the moon. Somewhere in the Han Empire, my future fiancée was probably listening to stories about my greatness. Somewhere in the Qin Empire, they were preparing for a new era. And here I was, five years old, trying to figure out how to commit "Strategic Incompetence" against a hurricane.

  "Even a dog won't become an Emperor," I whimpered, hugging my rubber duck. "But I think the dog has a better chance of retirement than I do."