I rely on unlimited life extension

Inside the banquet hall of the cultural exhibition, dignitaries from various countries gathered, their elegant attire creating a solemn yet warm atmosphere.

The Russian Orca Emperor, dressed in a sharp suit with gold embellishments on the pockets gleaming under the lights, was speaking quietly with an official beside him.

The 80-year-old King of Thailand was in good spirits, walking steadily forward with a perfectly appropriate smile on his face.

He turned to the side and pulled Cheng Yi along, introducing him to the Orca Emperor: "Your Majesty, let me introduce you to my long-lost son, Cheng Yi."

Upon hearing this, the Orca Emperor's deep eyes flashed with surprise. He then carefully examined Cheng Yi and laughed loudly, "No wonder this young master's facial features are so similar to Your Majesty's, especially the heroic spirit between his brows. Indeed, like father, like son!"

The King of Thailand beamed with joy and waved his hand repeatedly, saying, "Your Majesty is too kind. This child is still young and doesn't know any better. He still needs to learn more from his seniors."

After saying that, he pulled Cheng Yi towards the prime ministers and presidents of the other three countries who had come to participate in the exhibition. His words were full of affection and admiration for Cheng Yi, and his words implied the extraordinary nature of his son.

Cheng Yi stood to the side, a polite smile on her face, responding to the greetings from all sides.

However, his extraordinary mental strength keenly detected that deep within the Thai King's smiling eyes, there seemed to be a subtle calculation, as if he was intentionally or unintentionally pushing him into the spotlight.

The cultural exhibition area is filled with a dazzling array of distinctive exhibits from various countries.

As Cheng Yi paused before an ancient Chinese painting, he unexpectedly caught sight of a familiar figure—Kenneth Fok from Hong Kong.

He is in Beijing to participate in the exhibition in his capacity as Deputy Secretary-General of the Hong Kong Olympic Games, and is currently exchanging views with several foreign guests.

Kenneth Fok's gaze inadvertently swept over Cheng Yi, and when he saw the white uniform he was wearing, adorned with jewels and sashed with a pure gold belt, his heart skipped a beat.

When Huo Qigang saw the Thai King next to Cheng Yi and the four girls with different temperaments surrounding them, he was so shocked that his heart skipped a beat and he almost dropped his wine glass.

In that instant, he finally understood why Cheng Yi dared to pull out a gun and point it at Xu Hengheng at the auction in Hong Kong last time—to be so close to the King of Thailand, and even to accompany him like a prince, such confidence was something that ordinary tycoons could not match.

Because there were too many people present, including dignitaries and VIPs from various countries, the two only exchanged a glance across the crowd, nodded briefly, and then looked away without going up to greet each other.

Cheng Yi didn't notice that several cameras in the corner of the exhibition hall were always pointed at the Thai King, and the lenses naturally captured Cheng Yi and the four girls next to him.

These images will be broadcast on the evening news, along with reports of the Thai King's visit to China.

As night falls, countless families gather around their television sets to watch the evening news.

When the screen showed the Thai King visiting a cultural exhibition, and Cheng Yi and the four girls appeared, Fan Binbin and Yang Mi's fans instantly went wild.

"Isn't that Binbin? How come she's on the evening news?"

"And Yang Mi! And the person next to them is... the King of Thailand?!"

"Who is that man standing next to the King of Thailand? The King claims he is his son who has been lost for twenty years?!"

Fans were completely stunned. They never imagined that their favorite star would appear in such a serious official news report, and even be seen in the same frame as the King of Thailand and his "prince". The amount of information was too much for them to process.

In the He family villa in Hong Kong, He Xiaoqiong was sitting in the living room watching TV when Cheng Yi's figure appeared on the screen, and the remote control in her hand fell to the ground with a "clatter".

She stood frozen in front of the television for a full ten minutes before she snapped out of it and, with trembling hands, dialed her father, He Hongsen, and her fourth aunt's number.

After hearing her story, He Hongsen and his fourth aunt immediately made a long-distance call to He Xiaoying, who was overseas.

He Xiaoying had just gotten up and was about to have breakfast. After listening to her family's words, she simply raised an eyebrow and said calmly, "Now you know about Cheng Yi's background? What do you think? Is he good enough for your seventh brother? It's a pity that your seventh brother is probably not good enough for him now."

His words left the people on the other end of the phone speechless.

After hanging up the phone, Ho Hung-sen leaned back on the sofa and sighed deeply: "Are our judgment... really that bad?"

He Youjun, who was standing nearby, couldn't help but interject: "Dad, I think that in terms of status alone, my sister is indeed a bit unworthy of my brother-in-law."

He Xiaolian's eyes lit up, and she chimed in, "How about I go with you as part of your dowry?"

He Youjun curled his lip and mercilessly rebuked her: "You'd better ask your brother-in-law if he wants you, and also whether he'll give you an extra dowry."

He Xiaolian happily counted on her fingers: "I don't need more than 10 billion, I'll be content with 5 billion."

"You want to squeeze five billion out of your sister?" He Youjun rolled his eyes at her. "Do you think she'll agree?"

He Xiaolian's smile vanished instantly. She thought about it seriously for a moment, then lowered her head dejectedly.

Everyone knows that He Xiaoying is notoriously stingy; getting money from her is harder than climbing to heaven.

What's more, if she dared to say something like that, He Xiaolian had no doubt that her sister would slap her across the face the next second.

The atmosphere in the living room became somewhat awkward. Everyone watched Cheng Yi's calm and confident figure on the TV, each with their own thoughts.

For the remaining three days, Cheng Yi, along with her two energetic little girls, Fangfang and Yuanyuan, accompanied the King of Thailand on another trip to Harbin and Guangzhou.

In Harbin, they saw ice sculptures and experienced the freezing cold of minus twenty degrees Celsius. The Thai king, wrapped in a thick mink coat, watched two little girls having a snowball fight in the snow with a loving smile on his face.

Upon arriving in Guangzhou, the mild climate was soothing. The Thai king savored authentic Cantonese morning tea, listened to Cheng Yi recount the local customs and traditions, and nodded in agreement from time to time, as if he were just an ordinary elderly man on a trip.

The last stop was Guangzhou Airport. Cheng Yi stood on the tarmac, watching the King of Thailand, his guards, and entourage board the special plane.

Beside the gangway, the Thai king turned back and waved to him, his eyes filled with complex emotions, as if he had a thousand words to say.

Cheng Yi smiled and waved goodbye until the private jet's engines roared and it slowly taxied to the runway.

However, 25 minutes after takeoff, an urgent message spread around the world—the Thai King's private plane suddenly exploded at an altitude of 10,000 meters, turning into a huge fireball that tore through the clouds and crashed into the South China Sea.

The news shocked the whole world.

The Thai government immediately issued a statement declaring that the King had been involved in an "accidental plane crash" and vowed to thoroughly investigate the cause of the accident and provide an explanation to the people and the international community.

The United Nations headquarters issued a statement expressing its deepest condolences on the passing of the King of Thailand, and leaders from many countries sent messages of sympathy.

Just as Thailand was mourning, neighboring Cambodia bared its fangs, launching a large-scale military exercise on the Thai-Cambodian border under the pretext of "maintaining border stability." Tanks and armored vehicles were assembled along the border, creating a tense atmosphere.

Beset by internal and external troubles, Thailand's political scene has descended into chaos. The Prime Minister, claiming to be "recovering from a serious illness," has remained secluded and unable to preside over the Legislative Assembly.

The vice premier was appointed to the post in a time of crisis, but he was unable to control the situation.

Just as the Legislative Assembly was debating over the selection of the "acting head of state," Prince Lalongkorn stormed in with a troop of guards. His face was filled with grief and indignation as he loudly proclaimed, "My father has been assassinated (he deliberately referred to the 'plane crash' as ​​'assassination'). The country cannot be without a ruler for a single day! As the legal heir, I implore the Legislative Assembly to immediately approve my application for succession. I want to avenge my father and stabilize the country!"

The Deputy Prime Minister was pale-faced. On one side was military pressure at the border, and on the other side was the strong pressure from Lalongkorn. Amid the commotion, the members of the Legislative Assembly finally succumbed to the pressure and voted to approve Lalongkorn's application to succeed to the throne. The succession ceremony was scheduled to be held in Bangkok Plaza three days later, and the coronation ceremony was to be held a week later.

Three days later, Bangkok's square was already packed with people.

From the very first light of dawn, people from all directions poured in, crowding the huge square to the point of being completely packed.

The air was thick with heat, mixed with the sounds of people talking, shouting, and street vendors hawking their chilled drinks, creating a lively atmosphere like boiling water.

Thailand's national television broadcast van was parked early at the edge of the square, with countless cameras set up, their lenses aimed at the temporary platform erected in the center of the square, broadcasting the entire highly anticipated enthronement ceremony live.

Countless people who could not be there in person watched from their television sets, their eyes glued to the screen, waiting for the historic moment of the new king's ascension to the throne.

On the high platform, a bright yellow silk, symbolizing royal dignity, was laid out, with exquisite gold thread embroidery along the edges, shining brightly under the blazing sun.

Lalongkorn wore an extremely gorgeous royal robe, the dark blue velvet fabric embroidered with gold threads with totems symbolizing royal power, and his chest was covered with all kinds of medals—military medals for outstanding military achievements and civilian medals for honors, each telling the story of his "sixty years as crown prince".

He stood in the center of the platform, his chin slightly raised, his face radiating barely suppressed smugness.

Those eyes gleamed with a thirst for power and the excitement of soon achieving their goal, glancing occasionally at the dark mass of people below the stage, as if they were already looking down upon their own vast empire.

Following the established ceremony, Lalongkorn straightened his clothes and walked slowly to the huge portrait of the Thai king on the north side of the platform with seemingly steady but actually anxious steps.

The Thai king in the portrait has a dignified face and deep eyes, as if he is quietly watching everything.

An incense burner and offering table were placed in front of the portrait, with incense and candles already prepared. Next to it was a carefully selected bouquet of white jasmine flowers—the Thai king's favorite flower.

Lalongkorn took a deep breath, bent down to fetch incense and candles, intending to first offer them to his father's portrait before receiving the worship of the people, thus completing this highly symbolic part of the enthronement ceremony.

Just as his hand was about to touch the incense and candles, and his body bent down—

"You cannot succeed to the throne!"

A loud and clear sound, like a thunderclap from a clear sky, suddenly shattered the silence of the square.

The sound wasn't loud, but it possessed a penetrating power that instantly overwhelmed all the noise and clearly reached everyone's ears.

The entire venue fell into a deathly silence at that moment.

Whether it was the officials and monks on the stage or the tens of thousands of people below, everyone seemed to have been put on pause, their movements frozen in place.

Everyone's eyes, as if drawn by a magnet, followed the direction from which the sound came, their faces filled with shock and confusion.

Lalongkorn froze in mid-air, his body still bent over, like a sculpture suddenly frozen in time.

He was taken aback at first, clearly not realizing what had happened, and a hint of confusion flashed in his smug eyes.

But just half a second later, his confusion was replaced by rage. He straightened up abruptly, turned around abruptly, and looked in the direction of the sound, his eyes as fierce as a wild beast whose territory had been invaded.

A passageway was slowly cleared from the crowd on the east side of the square.

A young man in a pure white uniform is walking steadily out from there.

His uniform was tailored to fit perfectly, making his figure appear even more upright. A striking gold sash was slung across his shoulder, its gemstones gleaming in the sunlight, perfectly complementing his calm and aloof demeanor.

He walked steadily, each step seemingly on a beat, exuding an aura of "dragon's stride and tiger's gait," unhurriedly approaching the platform.

Sunlight shone on his face, highlighting his clear features. There was no panic in his eyes, only a calm coldness, as if the attention of thousands of people and the overwhelming pressure before him were nothing but fleeting clouds.

Many people present, especially those who had followed the news of the Thai King's visit to China and watched the evening news, recognized the face and the outfit instantly.

"It's him! The son the King of Thailand found in China!"

"Cheng Yi! I remember his name is Cheng Yi!"

"My God, how did he get here?"

"Wow—"

Like a boulder thrown into a calm lake, the square erupted in chaos.

The sounds of discussion, exclamations, and gasps rose and fell, spreading like a tide.

The once orderly crowd began to stir, with people standing on tiptoe and craning their necks to get a better look.

The cameras around the square, like sharks smelling blood, all turned their lenses and pointed them at Cheng Yi.

In the live broadcast on national television, his figure instantly occupied most of the screen, and every subtle expression and every steady step was clearly presented to the audience across the country.

On the high platform, Lalongkorn stared intently at Cheng Yi, his hands clenched into fists, his knuckles turning white from the force.

He never expected that this "obstacle," which he thought had long been excluded from his plans, would appear at his enthronement ceremony in this way, publicly declaring that "he cannot succeed to the throne!"

The air seemed to freeze at that moment. A thrilling battle for the throne was about to begin, under the watchful eyes of the world.