Since that conversation, Vian had not mentioned marriage again.

  However, her mother still frequently brought it up.

  To this, Elo’s attitude remained unchanged—he let it go in one ear and out the other, responding perfunctorily.

  He had thought about having a serious talk with his mother, to finally clear up the issue, but every time he truly considered speaking, he found it hard to bring up.

  Perhaps it was because his mother was an elder, or maybe because such a topic was not meant for serious discussion; in any case, each time the words were on the tip of his tongue, he swallowed them back.

  He was not like Vian, who could openly discuss anything with her mother.

  Some things, he preferred to have Vian communicate his thoughts.

  This matter was no different. Elo was certain that Vian had already conveyed his stance to her mother.

  So, the question arises—why does mother still push for marriage?

  The answer was actually quite obvious—she didn’t truly not know Elo’s feelings; she was deliberately pretending not to know.

  She simply found it amusing, and when bored, she would tease him with it, enjoying Elo’s slightly helpless reactions.

  Elo did not like this "interaction," but since his mother took pleasure in it, he could only helplessly continue to play along.

  As for the "friends" Vian spoke of—those whom her mother referred to as the "future daughters-in-law"—Elo had never met any of them.

  This wasn’t particularly strange, considering that unless there was official business, Elo rarely left the house, and not leaving meant there were no "chance encounters."

  But what was strange was—

  Since they were Vian's friends and "regular visitors" according to his mother, why had there been almost no female visitors at the house after Elo's awakening?

  This made Elo feel a faint sense of curiosity itching at the back of his mind—

  Did those people, who were repeatedly mentioned by both his mother and Vian, truly exist?

  Out of curiosity, Elo privately asked the Prime Minister in a tentative manner.

  However, to his surprise, the Prime Minister’s reaction was one of shock, as though hearing about it for the first time.

  “Your Majesty, are you saying... selecting consorts?”

  Elo couldn't help but roll his eyes inwardly: The old fox sure knows how to play the fool...

  The Prime Minister paused for a moment, then revealed a polite yet slightly awkward smile, his tone sincere and flawless:

  “I beg your pardon, Your Majesty, but... I truly had no knowledge of this matter.”

  Elo raised an eyebrow, staring at him with an unreadable expression.

  The Prime Minister continued, maintaining his composure:

  “We have never prepared for any consort selection, let alone interfered with the royal marriage.”

  Seeing that the Emperor remained indifferent, the Prime Minister quickly added:

  “If Your Majesty does not believe me, I am willing to swear on my own honor.”

  Elo: (?_?)

  This was the expression Elo had at the time.

  And internally, he was muttering—How much is your honor worth?

  Though Elo was speechless, he knew very well that behind the Prime Minister's seemingly perfunctory response lay the true meaning—

  They have already left, and we will erase all traces of their existence.

  Elo slightly nodded and didn't press the issue further. This was undoubtedly the ideal arrangement.

  Then, in a casual tone, he asked:

  “So, how many citizens are there in the country now? It should be less than ten thousand, right?”

  The Prime Minister was taken aback, confusion evident on his face.

  Elo chuckled lightly, shaking his head slightly, and spoke in a tone neither harsh nor soft:

  “Then let’s leave it at that.”

  The Prime Minister lowered his head slightly, a faint, almost imperceptible smile appearing on his lips, his tone respectful yet subtle:

  “Your will, Your Majesty.”

  Although Elo was certain that those people had already left, there was one thing that continued to puzzle him—Vian really seems to have a lot of friends.

  The reason he said this was because she was always chatting with her friends, and the topics never seemed to stop.

  However, Elo knew this not because he had nothing to do and spent his days observing Vian’s life.

  He knew this simply because—

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  Every time the family had a meal, Vian’s phone would vibrate every now and then.

  Elo hated that damn vibration because he suffered from "phone anxiety."

  Every time he heard a phone vibrate or ring, he would instinctively tense up, an inexplicable sense of unease rising in his heart, as if some trouble was about to occur.

  So, every time he heard that familiar "buzz" during meals, he would have a fleeting urge to crush the device.

  However, in the end, he would silently take a bite of his food, forcing himself not to snap.

  After all, he had no right to criticize Vian for using her phone during meals,because he himself would read novels and watch videos while eating.

  And because of this, his mother would always frown and sigh helplessly:

  “Both of your table manners are absolutely terrible!”

  However, the truly strange part of this matter wasn't Vian's behavior, but her attitude.

  Did Vian not know that Elo had "phone anxiety"?

  There was no doubt—of course, she knew.

  In the past, she would chat with her friends during meals, but at that time, her phone was always on silent, never disturbing the peace of the table.

  Vian had always been a considerate person; she would never suddenly forget such a detail.

  Was it possible that the phones produced by the Empire didn’t have a silent mode?

  Impossible, and moreover, Vian’s phone was made by Alaya, so it certainly wouldn’t lack in functionality.

  Furthermore, Elo had already granted her [System Usage Rights], so she could easily use the system's communication features without needing a phone at all.

  In fact, since his awakening, Elo had completely bid farewell to phones and computers, because the system could perfectly replace them—enhancing and optimizing the experience in every way.

  Reading novels or flipping through comics?

  With a single thought, the images would appear in his consciousness, as though the pages were turning in reality.

  Sometimes, when he smiled during a meal, it wasn’t because he was talking to someone, but because a character in his novel had said something so hilarious that it made him laugh.

  Listening to music?

  The melody no longer came from headphones but resonated directly in his mind, with perfect, lossless sound quality and distinct layers, as if the world itself were playing a symphony just for him.

  Sometimes, he would pause briefly, seemingly lost in thought, but in reality, he was fully immersed in the world of music.

  What about games?

  He no longer just stared at characters moving on a screen, but had truly stepped into an incredibly realistic world.

  The battles in the game world were thrilling and lifelike, each exploration filled with unknown surprises.

  Even the taste of food in the game could be perfectly simulated, as if he were truly experiencing it.

  Sometimes, it seemed like he was napping, but in reality, he was strolling through a magnificent fantasy kingdom, enjoying the majestic scenery beneath the sky.

  And outside the game world, his body autonomously maintained its basic functions.

  Breathing, blood circulation, muscle responses—everything operated naturally, requiring no additional control.

  This was the "convenience" brought by the system.

  When handling state affairs, Elo often “slacked off” using the system.

  In that moment, his consciousness seemed to split into two independent entities—

  One part focused on the tedious state affairs, mechanically reviewing documents and signing orders;

  While the other part was engaged in fierce battles on a virtual battlefield, fully immersed in the intense combat.

  For Transcendent Beings, multitasking was just basic operation.

  And for Elo, who had the "cheat" of the system, it was a piece of cake.

  Vian also had the system, so she could easily communicate with her friends through it, with no need for her phone to keep vibrating.

  So—she was doing it on purpose.

  But why?

  Elo knew the answer in his heart, but he didn’t want to probe further or dwell on it.

  —Let her be.

  Speaking of Vian and her mother, they were not idle—they had their own work.

  Before Elo's awakening, they bore the heavy responsibility of holding the Empire's highest authority.

  Although they knew Elo did not want them deeply entangled in political affairs, during the turbulent founding period of the nation, they had no other choice.

  Of course, like Elo, neither of them had ever been involved in politics in the past.

  Therefore, the importance of the Cabinet was self-evident, and they held great respect for these political elites.

  Especially her mother—she had never received a full education, not even finishing elementary school.

  When she sat at that long table, a symbol of power, facing the sharp-tongued and logically rigorous Cabinet members, that innate sense of inferiority would unconsciously arise.

  She respected their wisdom, respected those who could deconstruct the world with cold data and strict logic.

  It wasn’t out of a need for power, but out of a sincere self-reflection—she knew she did not understand.

  She did not hide this respect.

  She would listen carefully, humbly ask for advice, even when facing experts and scholars much younger than herself.

  She was never ashamed to admit her ignorance.

  For her, the true weakness was not ignorance itself, but the refusal to understand and the refusal to change.

  Her humility did not diminish her dignity; instead, it conveyed a sense of unwavering strength.

  Vian, on the other hand, was much more complex.

  She also respected the intellect of the Cabinet elites, but deep down, she remained cautious—

  Cautious of these politicians secretly playing power games, trying to gain personal benefits in the cracks of power.

  She knew well that the brilliance of power often concealed the shadows of greed.

  Compared to those eloquent, smooth-talking politicians, Vian trusted the military, intelligence agencies, and Alaya’s loyalty more.

  Especially Alaya, she knew—Alaya was the true support of the royal family.

  In these cold, hard systems, she found the simplest and most reliable logic:

  Orders must be obeyed, information must reveal the truth, and power itself is the most effective deterrent.

  There were no false smiles, no vague promises, only orders and results.

  Her decision-making process was simple and direct, avoiding the hypocritical games of politics, but it also made her appear cold and ruthless.

  The difference between his mother and Vian was like the gentle spring breeze and the cold winter night.

  Although their methods were different, both, with the help of the Cabinet, firmly held the reins of the country in their hands.

  Of course, after Elo's awakening, they gradually let go of these heavy responsibilities.

  This was exactly what Elo had hoped for.

  He didn’t want his family to be deeply entangled in politics, nor did he want them to bear unnecessary pressure.

  His thinking was simple—

  The royal family is just a mascot, and the important affairs of the country should be left to those true experts to handle.

  However, even with the delegation of power, the royal family's position remained unshakable, and the responsibilities of mother and daughter had not truly disappeared.

  They became an important bridge between the royal family and the imperial government, taking on the role of communication and coordination within the country.

  Although Cabinet members did not need to seek royal approval for every matter, they would still proactively report progress to them on key policies.

  Even a brief nod from his mother, or a simple affirmation from Vian, was enough to give those government officials a sense of invisible support and endorsement.

  Their presence was a part of the empire’s order, reminding everyone that the core of power still belonged to the royal family.

  Beyond their symbolic political significance, they were also Elo’s most important work partners.

  Like secretaries, they assisted in organizing Elo’s daily affairs, sorting documents, screening reports, coordinating meetings, ensuring Elo was not overwhelmed by trivial matters.

  In those unavoidable audiences, inspections, and parliamentary meetings, they always stood by Elo’s side.

  When handling daily affairs, mother and daughter often discussed things together.

  Vian preferred a direct and efficient approach, often succinctly pointing out the core of the issue;

  while his mother was more focused on human relationships, considering the emotional impacts behind matters.

  This complementarity created a subtle balance in their work, ensuring that each decision was both rational and full of warmth.

  Their presence made the royal family not just a symbol of power, but also the empire’s warmest home, and Elo’s most solid support in this world.