It’s just that William Carter ultimately survived, which means that the Immortal Scripture Pavilion, which spent all day learning from him to call itself “this seat” and was inspired by him to develop its own sentience, still managed to escape. The wisp of divine soul he had split off to help the Immortal Scripture Pavilion also survived, and for some unknown reason, by a twist of fate, actually entered this body.

William Carter suddenly spoke, cursing the heavens in anger. Both David Bolton and Tommy were stunned—what nonsense was he spouting?

“When did being a librarian become the strongest profession?”

“And you even want to pierce the heavens?”

“What is he saying? He looks like he wants revenge, but it’s not aimed at us. Is he hinting at something?”

“Or… has he gone mad?”

“That can’t be right, can a corpse talk after coming back to life?”

……

“Young… young master… no, the little prince is alive again…” At this moment, Tommy suddenly shuddered, as if recalling something, and shouted with all her might. Though the cry came from her frail body and wasn’t very loud, it was enough to reach outside.

The previous voices hadn’t been very loud, but now with Tommy’s shout, the guards outside, worried that something had happened, rushed in to check. But when they saw William Carter, they too were stunned.

This is bad!

At this moment, David Bolton also snapped back to his senses. Although he was still terrified—how could someone who had been dead all night suddenly come back to life?—this wasn’t what concerned him most. But with the guards present and Tommy’s shout likely to spread, it was already too late to do anything.

In fact, he knew very well that under no circumstances could William Carter’s death be linked to him in any way. Otherwise, no matter how vast the world, even the Prince Who Guards the Nation, who keeps the entire Han Dynasty on edge, would never let him go.

“Hm?” At this moment, William Carter, startled by Tommy’s shout, snapped out of his excitement and agitation from being reborn, then looked up at Tommy and the others.

In an instant, William Carter felt a slight tremor in the divine soul within his spiritual platform, followed by a faint sting, but it was quickly absorbed—these were some of the original memories of this body.

Although only a tenth or so of William Carter’s original divine soul had survived, the memories in this body were pitifully few, so digesting them was no trouble at all.

William Carter—the name was actually the same as his original one. But this identity was truly extraordinary: the son of the first non-imperial, nine-star Prince Who Guards the Nation in the thousand-year history of the Han Dynasty. Yet William Carter couldn’t help but want to laugh, because this little prince was actually quite pitiful—the least favored among the Prince’s sons, sent to the capital as a hostage before he was even three years old, and had lived there ever since.

This was the first time the emperor’s harem was returning home to pay respects to their ancestors, and on the way back to the capital after the ceremony, trouble struck at this post station before they even left the Prince’s territory.

The little girl in front of him was called Tommy—such a strange name. It turned out that thirteen years ago, when three-year-old William Carter was sent to the capital as a hostage, he found her on the road, and she kept pouting her lips the whole way.

Later, when the little girl fainted from hunger, William Carter cried out in panic. The guards found a family and learned that she was just hungry and wanted to eat. Strangely, in all his memories, Tommy had never cried.

Now he finally understood—the one who had kept his body warm and whose voice had been ringing in his ears was this frail little girl.

The man in his thirties before him, David Bolton, had been the deputy steward who followed William Carter to the capital over a decade ago. This time, the old chief steward had a relapse of an old illness, so only David Bolton led eight guards to escort William Carter back from the ancestral rites.

When William Carter looked at David Bolton, he caught a strange look in his eyes. Thinking back to the words he’d just heard and comparing them to his current expression, William Carter understood.

And with Tommy’s timely shout, plus all the memories of this little girl always being by his side, William Carter quickly formed a rough judgment.

“Why are you all just standing there staring at me, not doing your jobs? Is there something you need?” William Carter quickly sorted out a few clues, but he still knew too little. Still, he seized the initiative and questioned them directly.

“Uh… last… last night… the little prince drank too much, and at night… he… stopped breathing, and today… uh…” Suddenly hearing the little prince speak, David Bolton, out of long habit as a servant, immediately began to answer while thinking, his eyes darting to William Carter, trying to figure out what had happened. Could it be that Tommy’s dozens of basins of hot water had really brought him back to life?

Impossible—he’d been dead as could be. David Bolton had checked himself yesterday. Not to mention dozens of basins of hot water, even a Golden Immortal couldn’t have revived him. But now, this…

“Enough with the ‘uh’s. Aren’t I standing here just fine? I just drank a bit too much, no need to make a fuss. Alright, all of you leave. Tommy, you stay. My head still hurts a bit—come and massage it for me.” At a time like this, the less said the better. William Carter was no longer the timid hostage prince who would rather live as an ordinary person than dare to cultivate.