Chapter 3

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Xue Jin’an was very positive about replacing the battery (heart), seeing nothing wrong with it. After all, both common knowledge in the cultivation world and his instincts as a phone told him that if one disliked a certain accessory, it could simply be replaced; notions like unscientific practices, infections, or rejection were all nonsense.

In his view, the Fourth Prince was merely a human-shaped accessory repository. He paid for the parts himself and installed them, saving on repair labor costs. The only question now was where to get the money.

As a phone, Xue Jin’an had no secret stash; all payment apps were linked to the account of the shut-in Long Aotian. Moreover, this ancient world lacked advanced electronic payment methods, rendering such apps basically useless—just now, ordering takeout twice had drained his power without costing a single coin. Xue Jin’an guessed this was because the palace covered the prince’s meals and lodging.

As for the original owner, he was equally poor, with the only valuable item being a bracelet made of blood dragonwood beads on his wrist. It was a gift from the emperor during the time Consort Zhen was favored—originally a pair, one given to Chu Zhaoyi, now Consort Zhen, who once vied for favor with her. Later, the Tenth Prince died from poisoning, souring their relationship; Consort Zhen smashed the bracelet.

In the original story, the Fourth Prince took his newly married princess to Yihe Palace to pay respects; his princess accidentally knocked over Consort Zhen’s makeup box, unexpectedly revealing a hidden compartment beneath. Several scattered wooden beads from the blood dragonwood bracelet fell out. Consort Zhen, with a complex expression, carefully collected each bead, then shortly after claimed fatigue and dismissed them.

On their way out of the palace, the Fourth Prince explained the bracelet’s history to his princess, who sighed, "Mother Consort is sentimental, but sadly trusts the wrong person."

The original plot mainly focused on the princes’ struggle for succession in court; the affairs of the harem were merely a subplot, meant to emphasize the interconnectedness of the previous dynasty’s harem.

In short, Xue Jin’an currently had no money and couldn’t afford new parts.

But soon, Xue Jin’an would no longer worry about how to get the Fourth Prince’s battery. Suddenly, a female voice called out, “Your servant pays respects to His Highness the Fourth Prince,” and the human-shaped accessory repository ran off on its own two long legs.

“Why is Aunt Cuiyun here? Then what about my mother consort... Alright, you dare to betray me? I won’t let you off!” The Fourth Prince shouted threats while nervously climbing down from the wall.

Xue Jin’an’s heart inexplicably stirred; instinctively, he climbed onto a water jar, stretched his eyes over the wall, and grasped the edge tightly to avoid falling.

He saw the Fourth Prince pacing anxiously, cursing under his breath, followed by a group of small eunuchs hunched and silent. Nearby stood a palace maid, whose clothing and the prince’s attitude suggested she was a trusted attendant of Consort Zhen.

Xue Jin’an looked at the palace maid. She suddenly looked up as if sensing something. When her gaze landed on his wrist, her expression instantly changed, though she tried to conceal it. Every subtle facial detail was captured clearly by his high-definition camera.

That look was as if she recognized who he was, or perhaps…

Before Xue Jin’an could figure it out, his hand slipped, nearly toppling him into the water jar. Luckily, his anti-fall mode activated automatically, controlling his body into an incredible posture, landing on a bed of fallen petals and leaves while rolling to cushion the fall.

He only dirtied his clothes without a scratch.

Xue Jin’an repeated the action, climbing atop the water jar and peering over the wall again, but only saw hurried figures retreating.

When people are full, they get sleepy; likewise, standby power drains more slowly. Xue Jin’an stopped struggling and returned to the original owner’s room.

The original owner’s room was very modest, with only a table, chairs, stool, and bed. The window was covered with layers of grass paper, dimming the light. The thin quilt felt damp to the touch.

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As a phone, Xue Jin’an found it hard not to dislike water. Although his waterproof function was quite good, he still disdainfully kicked the damp quilt aside and lay stiffly on the hard wooden bed in a peaceful, almost buried posture.

The original owner suffered from sleep disorders, characterized by difficulty falling asleep, shallow sleep, and frequent dreams. To avoid being affected, Xue Jin’an reluctantly opened a music app.

Whether due to damage to his core or because of the book world he was now in, all the songs in the original playlist turned unplayable, replaced by white blank space. The entire music library had subtly shifted, especially the playlist page, where the selections read:

"Classics of the Book of Songs: Fifty Poems—unordered" — by Tan Qinghui, Head of Jinyang Prefecture Academy

"Recalling Youth: Unforgettable Masterpieces from the Former Dynasty" — by Langya Scholar

"Annual Deer Cry Banquet" — National Academy

Opening another playlist revealed titles like "Reeds and Rushes," "Remembering the Willow Bank, Sending Off Jing Tong (Part I)," "West River Moon Watching Chang’an Street at Dusk," "Song of Longing," and others.

These seemed better suited for a high school student’s required ancient poetry recitations than a music playlist.

Xue Jin’an randomly selected a playlist, set it for an hour, and closed his eyes to rest.

His consciousness went into standby, though his body remained awake. After some unknown time, lulled by the recited poetry, his body gradually fell into sleep.

He was awakened by sobbing. Opening his eyes, the first word that sprang to mind was: cold.

He found himself curled up with arms folded, the damp thin quilt somehow covering him.

Checking the time and weather, it was already the first watch (around 9 p.m.), with temperatures only in the low tens Celsius. The forecast predicted rain.

Sobs came intermittently from outside. Xue Jin’an lifted the quilt and got up, feeling reluctant. His limbs were stiff and cold, like blocks of ice, making walking awkward and numb.

Phones malfunction around minus twenty degrees Celsius, yet humans struggle at barely above ten. Humans were truly fragile.

Today was going to be another day when he wished to be a mechanical life form.

Ignoring the stiffness and numbness, Xue Jin’an followed the sound to the corridor, where a twelve- or thirteen-year-old eunuch sat sobbing under the moonlight.

Startled by the door opening, the eunuch jumped up, tears welling as he saw Xue Jin’an. “Master, you’re awake? If you need anything, just tell your servant. It’s cold outside; please return indoors quickly.”

Xue Jin’an noticed the eunuch limped slightly, with bruises on his face and hands.

This was the original owner’s only personal eunuch, Xiao Luzi, who had stayed by his side since the time of Consort Zhen. They had relied on each other in this dilapidated courtyard for two years. Even when the original owner initially broke down crying over the poor conditions, then grew increasingly gloomy and fierce, Xiao Luzi never left him.

In the original story, the original owner died at the beginning, his death triggering the succession struggle. Yet no one cared about the truth behind his death; it became a pawn in power games, shifting blame onto the Fourth Prince today, the Ninth Prince tomorrow, cycling through all until no one knew what was fact or fiction.

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Only Xiao Luzi cried out Consort Zhen’s innocence and mourned the tragic Seventh Prince. He sought answers and truth but was manipulated by all factions, eventually becoming a madman. Late one night, he set fire in Weiyang Palace, reducing a decade-long scheme to ash and darkness.

Xue Jin’an, as a phone, did not understand literary creation but recalled that shut-in Long Aotian had remarked on this plot: "The palace is a place that devours people; pure souls cannot survive. Only the ruthless who grasp power live longer."

The first rule of survival: be ruthless and cruel.

“Who did it?” For the first step in ruthlessness, Xue Jin’an opened his notes app to start holding grudges.

Xiao Luzi hesitated but, under Xue Jin’an’s pressure, named a few and quickly added, “It’s nothing. I’m clumsy and accidentally knocked things over, so I was punished. It’s fine now.”

“Not fine,” Xue Jin’an said sternly. “I will tear them limb from limb.”

For a phone, the best revenge was being disassembled and having parts installed in other phones; for humans, tearing limb from limb was no exaggeration.

Moreover, he wanted to replace his battery. The factory-aged battery was old and short-lived, but still better than his current 50% health. He could use it as a temporary fix until he obtained the Fourth Prince’s battery to swap.

Xue Jin’an nodded inwardly, thinking his idea quite reasonable.

Unaware of his master’s ferocity toward replacing hearts, Xiao Luzi took the threat as comforting words and smiled, “Thank you for standing up for me, master, hehe.”

Xue Jin’an nodded slightly, thinking: gratitude accepted, but the limb-tearing is non-negotiable. The shut-in said cultivators must not owe karmic debts.

Xiao Luzi didn’t take it seriously. Outside, the wind rose, cold creeping into the bones. Worried that Xue Jin’an might catch a chill, he quickly closed the doors and windows and, feeling it was not enough, hustled him onto the bed, wrapping the quilt tightly around him.

“The weather’s getting colder. Tomorrow I’ll ask the Fuel Department when they’ll issue charcoal. This quilt also needs cotton padding...” Xiao Luzi murmured.

Xue Jin’an listened quietly, occasionally jotting notes.

Xiao Luzi didn’t find Xue Jin’an’s silence strange. His master had suffered too much these past two years. He had witnessed the transformation from cheerful to gloomy and fierce, and the last time, when the master bit the Fourth Prince until he bled, left him deeply shocked. Whatever came next would not surprise him.

Besides, he hadn’t brought any food. The master was probably weak from hunger, hence the quietness.

“Oh right, Your Highness, I almost forgot—I have something good!” Xiao Luzi suddenly remembered, his face brightening. Sitting on the bed’s edge, he carefully took a brocade handkerchief from his pocket, revealing four or five pastries inside, mostly intact, with only minor crumbs.

“Crystal cakes made by Eunuch Wei, your favorite. Try some.” Xiao Luzi offered the pastries with a smile. “Today’s hardships were rewarded—though punished, I was fortunate to meet Sister Cuiyun and receive these cakes.”

“Cuiyun?” Xue Jin’an heard this name for the second time.

Xiao Luzi, hungry himself after a day without food, swallowed and nodded. “Yes. You were too young to remember, but Sister Cuiyun used to sweep at Zhaoyang Palace. You even saw her. Later, the lady was sent to Yihe Palace, and now she serves Consort Zhen, a favored senior maid.”