The Celestial Throne groaned under Xiao's weight—not because he was heavy, but because the universe itself flinched. With one ass-drop, centuries of tradition, dignity, and rigid hierarchy crumbled like a dry cookie in soup.
Xiao slouched.
He slouched on the Celestial Throne.
Somewhere, a monk who had meditated for 900 years died from spiritual reflux.
"Bring me the officials," Xiao said.
And so came… The Parade of Idiots.
First, a man with seventeen beards (why?) waddled forward. He wore ten layers of gold-stitched robes, each louder than the last.
"I—I am the Grand Minister of Spiritual Infrastructure and Interdimensional Sewage," he said, bowing so low his forehead left a crater.
"...Sewage?" Xiao blinked. "You manage poop… between dimensions?"
"Yes, Your Highness! I humbly monitor the astral waste pipeline between the 7th realm and the latrine dimension of Sector Gamma-13!"
Xiao stared.
"…Get out."
The minister burst into tears and was dragged away, sobbing about toilets in the void.
Next came a man who looked like a malnourished praying mantis. His hat was taller than he was.
"I am the Prime Strategist! I once defeated an army using only chess pieces and a chicken."
"Interesting," Xiao said. "Show me."
The man clucked, threw a bishop piece at a guard, and yelled "TACTICAL SUPPRESSION PECK!"
The guard punched him into a wall.
"Next."
The third man walked in with six maids fanning him, five musicians following behind, and two birds sitting on his shoulders.
"I am the Divine Planner of Ceremonies. I designed your entrance music."
"…You mean the one where trumpets played 'I'm Too Cultured For This Planet' on loop?"
"Yes, Your Highness. It was to reflect your divine swagger."
Xiao nodded.
"Execution."
The guards hesitated. Xiao sighed.
"Of the birds. They're innocent."
The man fainted. The birds exploded into feathers. Nobody understood how or why.
---
By now, the entire court was trembling.
Then—then—came the final boss of stupidity: The Council of Supreme Old Men™.
Six ancient cultivators. Beards so long they had to be rolled in carts. Eyebrows that touched the floor. Wrinkled to the point of looking like cursed bedsheets.
One stepped forward.
"Young one… you are too immature to rule. We demand you step down and return the throne to the Elder Council."
Xiao just blinked.
"…You're still alive?"
The old man trembled.
"I cultivated my liver into a cosmic core! I am 9,874 years old!"
"Oh," Xiao said, standing.
Then he clapped.
The ceiling exploded.
A satellite cannon in orbit redirected its beam through the palace roof and atomized the entire Elder Council, except their sandals.
Silence.
Then Xiao pointed at the sandals.
"Clean that up. And send their ashes to the nearest black hole."
The janitor bowed so hard he created a sinkhole.
---
Suddenly, a young noble rushed in.
"Your Highness! My sect objects to your recent destruction of our wine cellar!"
Xiao turned to the woman beside him.
"Remind me, what's his name?"
She flipped a tablet.
"Liu Mang, heir to the Sect of Purple Peacocks and Known Idiot Number 349."
Xiao nodded.
He raised a finger.
Black chains shot out of the floor.
"No! Wait! I have a treasure! It's called the Everlasting—AAARGH!"
He was dragged underground, again. Screams. Silence.
"Trash should know their place," Xiao muttered.
The woman smiled.
"Your Highness, you've already declared three wars, dissolved seven ministries, and vaporized twelve nobles today."
Xiao sipped tea.
"Light work."
---
Later, in the Royal Garden of Eternal Serenity™ (now renamed the Backyard of Violence), Xiao sat under a moon made of crystal.
The woman asked, "So… what now?"
Xiao smirked.
"I think tomorrow I'll raid a sect, slap a dragon, and promote the janitor to Grand Elder."
She paused.
"…Why the janitor?"
"He's the only one here doing actual work."
From the distance, the janitor shouted, "Long live Prince Xiao!"
A single tear ran down his face.
And somewhere, in the void, a god choked on his divine popcorn.