The Emperor of Great Xia forced a smile that looked like he'd accidentally swallowed a lemon. "You're… *most* welcome," he rasped, eyeing the shimmering Sky Treasure Gourd in Little Rascal Qin Feng's clutches like it was his firstborn child. Internally, he was screaming. *Why did I think bringing the "cheapest" treasure in my vault was a good idea?!* The kid had already swindled him for two legendary artifacts! Next, he'd probably ask for the palace drapes!
Then Qin Feng blinked up at him with those *eyes*—those big, sparkly, "who-me?" puppy eyes that had preceded the gourd heist. The Emperor's soul left his body. *Not again! Is this gremlin part raccoon?!*
"Your Imperial Majesty," Qin Feng chirped, rocking back on his heels like a wind-up toy, "when I visit the palace with my baby brother someday, *please* don't prepare gifts! Especially not any *boring* stuff like divine-grade cultivation manuals or—"
The Emperor yeeted himself skyward in a golden blur before the sentence ended. A distant *thud* suggested he'd faceplanted into a cloud.
**Meanwhile, Back at the Qin Clan Drama Factory…**
The Qin elders coughed into their sleeves, torn between ancestral pride and the urge to high-five their tiny con artist. Third Uncle whispered, "We should take this kid to the capital. He'd have the royal treasury empty by noon."
Qin Feng, oblivious to being his family's new favorite disaster, was mentally doing cartwheels. The *Ding!* from his "[Villainous Grindset System]" had just awarded him **200 Bad Boy Points™** for "corrupting the youth." *Sweet!* He could practically hear the system's AI facepalming.
**Enter the Baby (And the Slap Heard Across the Realm)**
The skies roared as a phoenix-dragon hybrid dive-bombed the delivery room. Out waddled a maid holding a swaddled bundle—the legendary Second Young Master!
Qin Feng leaned in, scrutinizing the wrinkly potato-faced newcomer. *Hmm. Looks like Dad. Zero percent of Mom's glorious cheekbones. Tragic.* Then he noticed something odd—the baby wasn't crying.
Gasps erupted. "Why isn't he wailing?!" cried Auntie Liu, who'd bet three spirit stones on "loudest newborn."
Qin Feng's eyes gleamed like a shark spotting a gold-plated seal. "MEDICAAAAAL EMERGENCY!" he shrieked, channeling his inner daytime TV host. Before anyone could react, his tiny hand *SLAPPED* the baby's butt with the precision of a kung fu master hitting a pressure point.
***WAAAAAAAAH!***
The baby's scream shook the ancestral portraits off the walls. Qin Feng's system exploded with notifications:
- **+100 Points** for "First Degree of Brotherly Violence"
- **+30,000 Points** for "Yeeting the Baby's Mystical Juice™ (AKA that 'primal ancestor energy' he'd been hoarding)"
- **+1 Golden Gacha Spin** for "Stealing Little Bro's Destiny Milk"
Qin Feng's brain short-circuited. *Wait, I* lost *my magic baby juice by crying at birth?!* He suddenly regretted his dramatic debut scream three years ago. *Note to self: silent villain entrances from now on.*
**The Aftermath (Or: How Dad Learned to Fear Nap Time)**
Qin Tian, the Clan Lord, stared at his eldest son like he'd grown a second head. "Why. Would. You. SLAP. YOUR. BROTHER?!"
Qin Feng deployed his secret weapon: the *Lip Quiver of Infinite Innocence*. "I-I was saving him!" he sniffled, burying his face in Great-Grandpa's robes. "What if his butt was broken?!"
The elders lost it. "The boy's a genius!" cackled Fourth Grandma, nearly dropping her jade teacup. "Strategic butt-slapping! Write that into the clan manuals!"
Meanwhile, Baby Brother's lungs became the clan's new alarm clock. Qin Tian, now sporting eye bags bigger than his sword scabbard, muttered, "This is karma for stealing the Long Sky Nine Swords from my own son, isn't it?"
**Epilogue: Midnight in the Nursery**
As the baby's wails harmonized with the crickets, Qin Feng tiptoed in with a devious grin. *Time to test a theory.* He hovered his hand over the crib.
***SLAP!***
***WAAAA—***
"FENG'ER!!" roared Qin Tian from his bedroom down the hall.
"BUTT INSPECTION!" Feng yelled back, sprinting away as system points flooded in. *Who needs bedtime stories when you've got a live XP farm?*
Somewhere, the Emperor of Great Xia sneezed, instinctively hiding his remaining treasures. The Qin elders drafted plans for a "Baby Brother Slapping Championship." And thus, the legend of Qin Clan's Chaos Twins began—one a master schemer, the other a siren in diapers.
The end? Not even close.