Sunlight spilled gently through layers of drifting clouds, draping Saigon in golden silk. A new day began with a purity so clear it seemed as if no shadow had ever existed.

  The sky stretched high and unblemished, white clouds drifting lazily across it. Sunlight slanted through the trees, gilding each leaf as if with glitter. The morning breeze carried the scent of fresh grass and roasted coffee from roadside stalls, painting the illusion of a peaceful morning.

  ---

  In the Japanese-style garden of C?u D?ng’s villa, the first rays fell softly over mossy stones and green carpeted paths. A koi pond stirred faintly, ripples spreading outward like echoes of a dream not yet broken.

  But inside the villa was a far less tranquil scene.

  Anh Th?, overcome with severe morning sickness, lay pale and weak on the living room sofa. Dì T? bustled in the kitchen, stirring a steaming glass of salted lemonade as her voice softened in comfort:

  – “Miss Th?, it’s your first pregnancy, and your body’s always been frail. Please endure a little. Drink this hot lemonade to ease the nausea — I’ve got dried plums in the cupboard and can make sour-sweet pickled tamarind later.”

  M? Linh and C?u D?ng descended the stairs, worry clouding her eyes at the sight of her daughter’s sickly face.

  – “I was the same when I carried you,” M? Linh recalled gently. “It didn’t ease until the fourth month.”

  Dì T? dabbed Anh Th?’s forehead, rubbing her back:

  – “Tell me what you feel like eating later, I’ll cook it separately. You need strength.”

  C?u D?ng, however, could not contain his agitation. He paced the floor before snapping:

  – “I just paid off your debt, and now this?! Call that damn boy and tell him to bring his parents here immediately!”

  M? Linh hurried to calm him, smoothing his chest:

  – “You must stay composed! They are our future in-laws. We’re a respected business family — don’t let anger tarnish our reputation or the company. We must show… class.”

  ---

  Across the street, in Erion’s Gothic villa, morning light streamed through towering European-style windows, gilding wooden floors and carved statues. It spilled across walls of climbing roses, casting Baroque shadows alive with color.

  In the kitchen, Din ground coffee, shaking his head:

  – “It’s barely morning, and the neighbors are already in chaos. Trouble must be coming.”

  Erion, sleeves rolled to his elbows, was frying eggs and bacon, their aroma filling the room.

  – “The D?ng family is always noisy. But don’t worry — soon, we’ll make sure they scream even louder… in their dreams.”

  Din glanced up at the loft, where the little demons were still curled in their blankets, snoring.

  – “What kind of subordinates sleep harder than their masters? Wake up!”

  His voice echoed through the villa.

  Erion smirked:

  – “Imagine — masters cooking breakfast and handing out Bentleys to their minions. Truly, we are far too generous.”

  ---

  At the Bình Chánh stronghold, the sun lit up vast royal gardens that sprawled like a miniature imperial park.

  Along cobblestone paths, Crown Prince Arian and H?ng Nhung strolled hand-in-hand. Birds sang above, camellias bloomed beneath ancient eucalyptus trees, and golden sunlight spilled across velvet cloaks like flowing wine.

  In her chamber, Princess-Warrior Trang, fresh from her bath, sat drying her hair before a gilded mirror. Wrapped in silk, she looked every inch the legendary heroine reborn in morning light.

  ---

  Downstairs in the royal dining hall, chefs laid out H? Ti?u Nam Vang noodles in fine-dining elegance—each strand, each slice of pork liver, shrimp, and quail egg arranged as if part of a masterpiece.

  In the grand hall, Demon King Satan sat upon a limewood throne, one leg crossed, eyes fixed on an encrypted laptop, reviewing his business empire spread across Southeast Asia.

  At his side, the Grand Advisor, clad in black Gothic robes lined with lace, flipped through dossiers marked in crimson. Her hands moved swiftly across an elite keyboard, rerouting military satellites toward locations from a dreaded “black ledger.”

  ---

  Everyone began their day…

  Each with private concerns, hidden schemes, and the illusion of peace.

  But behind the brilliance of the morning sun…

  …a storm was already waiting.

  Early morning in a narrow alley of District 8, the world was still gentle. Sparrows chirped along the high-voltage lines, while hidden behind rows of concrete buildings lay a modest neighborhood.

  Among them stood a small one-story house, tiled floors faded with time, walls weathered by rain and sun. It was the humble home of Huy—the brash, bleach-blond troublemaker, a low-ranking centipede spirit — now scheming for a coveted spot as the prized son-in-law of C?u D?ng’s family.

  In the kitchen, Mrs. Nguy?t, though a centipede spirit herself, lived with kindness and humility. She carefully arranged beef shank and pork hock into steaming bowls of Bún Bò Hu?. The aroma of fermented shrimp paste, lemongrass, chili, and fish sauce filled the house.

  – “Husband, it’s ready! Bring these three bowls to the table,”

  she called.

  Mr. Tín, a stocky man in a worn T-shirt, had just finished boiling water for tea. He carefully placed the bowls on the small table in the living room, then called out:

  – “Huy! Where are you? Come down for breakfast, son!”

  Up in the loft, Huy stood before a mirror, slicking back his dyed blond hair with gel, slipping on sunglasses as if auditioning for a music video. He called back:

  – “Coming, Dad!”

  Suddenly, his phone rang — an unknown number.

  Frowning, he answered. Before he could speak, a furious voice thundered from the other end:

  – “Huy! Today, you will bring your parents to my house! If you won’t take responsibility for my daughter, I will not let this go!”

  Huy frozen. It was Anh Th?’s father. He stammered:

  – “Y-Yes, uncle… I’ll tell my parents right away. I swear, I want to marry Th?!”

  – “Good. But hear me: if you dare to run, I will have people hunt you down. Don’t test me. Click.”

  The line went dead. Huy dropped the phone onto the mattress, his face drained of blood. He bolted downstairs, shouting in panic:

  – “Mom! Dad! It was Anh Th?’s father! He said you both have to come today… to talk about the marriage!”

  Mrs. Nguy?t gasped, wide-eyed:

  – “Oh heavens… could it be, they’re finally ready to discuss the wedding?”

  Mr. Tín set his chopsticks down, his voice calm but heavy:

  – “You got their daughter pregnant. You will take responsibility. Your mother and I won’t scold you in front of them, but inside… we’re furious, boy. Don’t forget that.”

  Huy lowered his head, voice weak:

  – “Yes, Dad… I know I was wrong.”

  Mr. Tín rose slowly, reaching for his old pith helmet hanging by the door. He turned to his wife:

  – “Wife, get ready. We’ll head over soon, and we must speak properly.”

  Mrs. Nguy?t nodded:

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  – “I’ll check if my old áo dài from Father’s memorial is still decent. We can’t show up shabby, or they’ll look down on our son.”

  Mr. Tín’s gaze hardened as he looked at Huy:

  – “Go to the shop at the alley’s end. Buy a box of good tea and some pastries. You do not show up empty-handed.”

  Mrs. Nguy?t added with a sigh, her voice both scolding and tender:

  – “You cause all this trouble, yet you still strut around like you’re off to a festival… But no matter what, as long as your parents live, we’ll shoulder this burden for you.”

  Flushed with shame, Huy scratched his head and gave a sheepish grin before dashing out the door, muttering under his breath:

  – “Oh God, my fate has caught up with me…”

  Meanwhile, back at C?u D?ng’s villa, tension thickened like a taut string.

  – “Go upstairs and dress properly, will you? That boy’s family will be here any moment,”

  M? Linh snapped as she stirred her bowl of crab soup.

  C?u D?ng remained seated, scrolling his laptop to check the stock market. His voice, however, was iron:

  – “If they utter a single word of disrespect toward us, I’ll send them packing on the spot. Forget the wedding — my grandchild, I will protect!”

  He tightened his grip around the steaming cup of coffee.

  In the lavish dining hall of the Bình Chánh headquarters — a blend of European grandeur and Eastern refinement — everyone savored steaming bowls of H? Ti?u Nam Vang, crafted by the royal chef. The rich broth of slow-simmered bones, shrimp, minced pork, and pig’s liver mingled with the scent of pepper and fried garlic, enough to win over even the most fastidious of palates.

  The Demon King Satan set down his chopsticks and turned toward Crown Prince Arian.

  – “Later, you, H?ng Nhung, and Trang will head to the Gothic Mansion. Today, D?ng's family is holding an important event.”

  As he spoke, his hand swept across the Velkhanis Mirror — a mystical artifact reflecting fragments of time and space. A hazy image appeared.

  – “The centipede spirit’s family is on their way there.”

  Prince Arian nodded with a faint smile. His ice-blue eyes shifted toward the royal agents awaiting orders.

  – “Prepare a Cadillac Escalade and a Porsche. After breakfast, we’ll head there with my royal sister.”

  A smirk tugged at his lips as he added teasingly:

  – “And perhaps… I’ll pay a visit to my future brother-in-law.”

  ---

  At the Gothic Mansion, Erion, Din, and their lesser demons enjoyed breakfast: Toast, sunny-side-up eggs, bacon, and strong coffee brewed with Din’s proprietary blend. Erion glanced into the Black Crystal Mirror, his brow furrowed.

  – “That D?ng’s household is about to receive guests.

  Din took a sip of coffee and asked:

  – “Who are they, General?”

  Erion’s gaze drifted toward the Gothic arched windows, where morning light slanted through wisteria vines.

  – “The parents of the centipede spirit boy. They’re not dangerous — monsters, yes—but good-hearted ones. Let’s see what kind of people they really are.”

  One of the little demons muttered around a mouthful of bacon:

  – “It’s fine if the parents are decent… but their son is sly. All he wants is to climb high and become a leech on wealth.”

  Din exhaled with a sigh.

  – “Parents may give birth, but Heaven gives the nature. Perhaps they too are helpless against a son so bent on squandering.”

  ---

  An hour later, while Erion and Din were reviewing data on their laptops, a small demon burst into the room, breathless.

  – “General, Count! The centipede family has arrived!”

  Both men closed their laptops and strode to the front courtyard. Across the way, a taxi stopped before C?u D?ng’s villa. Mr. Tín stepped out first — dressed plainly yet neatly in gray slacks and a white shirt. Mrs. Nguy?t followed, modest and graceful in a violet Hu? áo Dài and black pants, carrying a gift of tea and pastries.

  And, of course, there was Huy — the conniving centipede spawn, supposedly here for marriage talks, but dressed more like he was heading to a street race.

  At that same moment, two sleek cars pulled up before the Gothic Mansion gates: A black Cadillac Escalade and a gleaming black Porsche.

  Din arched a brow in surprise.

  – “That’s Princess Trang… and Crown Prince Arian, with Fairy H?ng Nhung. Hah. Looks like the dragons are visiting the shrimp today.”

  The little demons rushed to swing open the gates.

  From the Cadillac, Princess Trang emerged—youthful and striking in a Balenciaga crop top, pleated denim skirt from Mi Mi, and tall black Dr. Martens boots.

  From the Porsche, Crown Prince Arian descended — radiant in a pale blue Armen dress shirt, black T-Ford trousers, and polished S-Ferragamo leather shoes. His long platinum-blond hair fell in sleek strands to his back — every inch the son of an emperor.

  With effortless grace, he extended a hand to help Fairy H?ng Nhung alight. She floated down in a pastel pink Eli Saa gown of flowing tulle, paired with white Jim Cho heels — her beauty ethereal, like a maiden from a fairytale.

  Behind them, the royal agents disembarked in flawless formation — black suits adorned with the royal crest of Satan over their hearts. They fanned out immediately, spacing themselves with precision, their solemn presence radiating authority. Each moved as though ready for battle at the first hint of danger.

  Crown Prince Arian strode through the Gothic Mansion gates, one brow arched, his icy gaze laced with mockery as he looked at Erion.

  – “Future brother-in-law, why leave your brother-in-law-to-be standing outside like this?”

  Erion narrowed his eyes.

  Princess Trang spun around and glared at Arian, letting out a sharp hmph:

  – “What nonsense are you spouting, royal brother? When did I ever agree to marry Erion?”

  Arian chuckled, brushing back his silken platinum hair, a mischievous light glimmering in his ice-blue eyes.

  – “Ah, you’re right, I almost forgot. Later, we still have to visit Trúc Di?n in District 3.”

  At the mention of that name, Erion clenched his jaw, his expression darkening.

  – “Hey, hey, why bring up that snake here? Your Highness… are you trying to pick a fight?”

  Nearby imps covered their mouths, stifling laughter as they chimed in:

  – “Future brother-in-law, General… your future brother-in-law…”

  The whole courtyard burst into morning laughter.

  Din, forced to play mediator, quickly cut in:

  – “Please, honored guests, come inside. The sun’s already growing harsh.”

  ---

  Across the street, the gates of C?u D?ng’s villa swung open. His family came forward to receive their future in-laws from Hu?.

  C?u D?ng composed his face into something approximating respect, though his tone betrayed a touch of condescension.

  – “Welcome, brother, sister. I half-thought you wouldn’t come. The journey was long—are you tired?”

  Mr. Tín smiled sincerely.

  – “Thank you. My wife and I only learned of the matter between the children last night. So today we came to properly discuss their marriage with you.”

  Mrs. Nguy?t added softly, her voice tinged with regret:

  – “Children make mistakes, but parents must bear them. We didn’t want it to come to this, but since it has, we humbly ask for your daughter Anh Th?’s hand in marriage for our Huy.”

  No sooner had she finished speaking than both husband and wife stiffened, as if pulled by a powerful aura. Their gazes turned instinctively toward the Gothic Mansion opposite. For a brief moment, they stood frozen, struck by the overwhelming presence radiating from those “neighbors.”

  Huy’s knees wobbled, his lips trembling as his face drained of color.

  – “Oh heavens… it’s… it’s the royal demons! And even fairies… vampires too…”

  M? Linh frowned in confusion.

  – “Huy, what strange nonsense are you babbling?”

  Flustered, Huy forced an awkward laugh.

  – “Ah, no, I was just talking about… some characters from a movie!”

  Quick-witted, Mrs. Nguy?t stepped in to cover for him.

  – “Yes, my boy loves those fantasy, magic films. He’s always talking like that.”

  But every eye from C?u D?ng’s household was still locked on the Gothic Mansion. The figures standing there radiated authority, charisma that stole the breath.

  Crown Prince Arian — porcelain skin, an oval face as though carved by a master, high nose bridge, razor-sharp lips, and those deep ice-blue eyes. Towering above one-eighty meters, his platinum hair flowed straight down his back like a silver waterfall.

  Beside him stood Erion — his “disguised” amber-brown eyes still sharp as a predator’s, a face chiseled with masculine angles, exuding the aura of a Western war god. And Din — his ocean-deep eyes, lips curved in a dangerous smirk, charm steeped in cunning allure. The three of them together formed a living tableau of raw power and impossible beauty.

  Next to them stood two noble ladies of entirely different essence. H?ng Nhung, the fairy maiden, pure as if stepped from a fairytale itself. And Trang, radiating the wild allure of a warrior princess — untamed, captivating, impossible to ignore.

  From the sidelines, Anh ?ào’s heart fluttered wildly. She swallowed a sigh, her thoughts trembling.

  – “Am I really living inside a novel? Those two elegant men yesterday… and now, another aristocratic prince from England…”

  Across the road, Erion shot her a sharp side glance, muttering darkly:

  – “Again… first she fantasized about me and Din, and now Arian too…”

  H?ng Nhung giggled behind her hand and tugged at Trang’s sleeve.

  – “Ignore them… let’s go inside.”

  One curly-haired imp also stole a glance toward Anh ?ào and snickered:

  – “Now all we need is miss My to show up every lady with a husband already, and still drooling over pretty boys. Hopeless…”

  The group had barely set foot toward the Gothic Mansion when a silver Innova suddenly pulled up at the gates, throwing the scene into further chaos.

  The imps and royal agents burst into muffled giggles.

  – “Oh heavens… spooky timing! The Crown Prince just mentioned the snake, and here he comes!”

  The car door swung open. First to emerge was Trúc Di?n — his long black hair tied half-up with a silver serpent-patterned pin, a crisp white Burberry mandarin-collar shirt hugging his frame to reveal sculpted muscle, paired with light brown Brunello Cucinelli slacks. Polished Churche’s derby shoes gleamed in the morning light, and a Patek Philippe Calatrava gleamed on his wrist. His gaze was cold, tinged with arrogance — like the whole world was nothing but scenery to his stride.

  Behind him stepped Master V?nh, clad in black trousers and a pastel brown Chinese-button shirt, his face stern as ever.

  Erion’s chest heaved, fists clenched, rage erupting like a volcano.

  – “Why… why is this snake here? I never invited you!”

  Trúc Di?n smirked, sliding a sidelong glance at him.

  – “Didn’t you declare just yesterday that the Gothic Mansion was now the headquarters of drama — open to anyone?”

  Before anyone could retort, he turned to Trang, eyes melting, voice as soft as the morning breeze.

  – “Good morning, princess.”

  Jealousy flared like wildfire. Erion’s face flushed, his voice nearly a roar.

  – “Snake, how dare you flirt with my future wife?!”

  Trúc Di?n flicked his hair back with arrogant ease.

  – “Since when did she agree to marry you? And Satan himself hasn’t given his blessing, has he?”

  The air bristled with gunpowder, as if bullets had already been chambered.

  Master V?nh gave both men a dry look, then cut in, deadpan:

  – “The sun’s too hot. Why don’t we all just go inside?”

  Everyone froze for a moment, then burst into helpless laughter.

  ---

  Across the street, C?u D?ng’s villa entered a second round of stunned silence.

  Huy stood rooted, eyes wide, words slipping from his mouth unbidden.

  – “It’s… it’s him… the Serpent King, an ancient divine beast…”

  Realizing too late, he slapped a hand over his mouth, scrambling for an excuse with a forced chuckle.

  – “I mean… uh… another character from a movie I like.”

  C?u D?ng narrowed his eyes.

  – “Strange… why are Trúc Di?n and Sorcerer V?nh going over there? Do they know the owners?”

  M? Linh, still staring at the Gothic gates, interjected:

  – “Well, he and Trúc Di?n are exorcists, aren’t they? Maybe the owners asked them to perform a ritual.”

  C?u D?ng nodded slowly, half-convinced.

  – “That makes sense. Mr.V?nh is a skilled sorcerer — people seek him out all the time.”

  But despite their words, every pair of eyes in the household remained fixed on the figures across the street. Partly because they were so different… and partly because their presence was simply extraordinary.

  M? Linh eventually ushered the Hu? family inside, though her focus was clearly divided.

  – “Please, come in. Let’s sit down and talk about the children.”

  But inwardly, her thoughts sharpened.

  – “These people are too calculating, pushing their son into a wealthy family for shelter. But the rich aren’t fools. If we were fools, we wouldn’t be rich.”

  ---

  Meanwhile, inside the Gothic Mansion, the key players had already taken their seats in the grand, darkly elegant Gothic parlor.

  On the surface, the air seemed calm… yet beneath it, an invisible storm brewed. Two names — Erion and Trúc Di?n — two rivals who could never share the same sky, now forced into the same room.

  Their gazes collided like blades crossing in the clash of light and shadow.

  Two arrows aimed at one target — while countless unknown variables hung waiting in the wings…