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Summary
I transmigrated into the Heirloom Seal of the Realm. The System told me that whoever possesses me possesses the world. On the night of the new Emperor’s coronation, the entire civil and military court knelt on the ground, waiting for him to place me reverently upon the imperial desk. The Tyrant picked me up, gave me a couple of looks, and then shoved me under the front-left leg of the desk. “Finally, it stopped wobbling.” I was so furious I cursed at him inside his head. “Are you out of your mind?” The Tyrant’s hand, poised with a brush, froze. After a long silence, he looked down at the foot of the desk. “Who just cursed at Us?”
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