The days of contempt were over as Han Cheng found himself assigned to a task that would either destroy his country's future or achieve world peace.
It was a winter night, and the quietness became almost too eerie despite an important event taking place right in the heart of Geneva.
The meeting between the officials of the great nations had taken place earlier, ending with one last pending agreement. What was supposed to be an eventful gathering had become one that would decide the fate of the world.
Han Cheng stood by the window of his hotel suite, his eyes gazing upon the frozen lake, lost in deep thought. Out of his suit jacket and dressed comfortably with his sleeves rolled up and tie loosened, he held a cigar between his fingers, its smoke trailing upward in a lazy spiral.
"The war room has concluded, Your Excellency," his assistant, Xia Ke, reminded him politely. "There is one more thing left for us to do."
Han Cheng did not respond right away. He nodded slightly to show he had heard, fiddled with his cigar, then dropped it into the ashtray. Slowly, he walked toward the desk behind him.
"If you do not mind, sir," Xia Ke gestured toward the window that was not fully locked, "it is best to lock your window, especially when you are dealing with something this serious."
Han Cheng chuckled. "Who dares touch me in a foreign country? There's surveillance everywhere. To harm me would be a crime not just in this country, but a challenge to the interests of every nation."
Xia Ke did not refute his claim. "I just wanted to ensure that everything goes smoothly, Your Excellency."
He straightened and gave a slight bow. "If anything is needed, please notify me. I will be heading to bed, sir."
Han Cheng nodded calmly. "Have a great night."
Xia Ke took his leave, closing the door behind him, leaving Han Cheng alone in his room. The other officials who had been with him earlier had gone to the afterparty, while Han Cheng decided to skip it, citing that he wasn't used to the time change.
Now that everyone had left, he could finally do what he came here to do. His eyes landed on the piece of paper that lay on the desk, the final draft of an agreement that had the power to change the world.
It was a multilateral pact that could end a decades-long regional conflict, stabilize trade routes, and usher in a new era of peace and prosperity for his country. It had not yet been made public due to its immense importance and the risks to his safety.
If ever misread or misused, everything his country had built would collapse, rendering it diplomatically incapable and isolated.
Han Cheng stared at the document for a long time, thinking to himself that all it took was one signature, and yet something held him back.
One signature away, he thought. Just one… but it feels like something is stopping me.
A strange sense of caution slowly built within him, pushing him to the edge of hesitation.
Is it because I do not fully understand the importance of this advancement? That I do not yet comprehend the position I stand in and what influence I would hold if I were to sign this away?
At that moment, he no longer felt like a diplomat standing on the precipice of change in Geneva. He was once again a young boy, powerless and grieving, who had wanted nothing more than to make meaningful changes after witnessing how the system failed him and his family.
His mother had died giving birth to his younger sister. His sister passed away shortly after from illness, all due to the sheer poverty they lived. In order to make a living, his father joined the army, only to die in action shortly after Han Cheng turned thirteen.
He was sent to live in an orphanage, where systematic abuse was constant. Yet the one thing that kept him alive was the unwavering determination to honor his father.
Han Cheng studied relentlessly, graduated from a top university, and enlisted in the army, earning himself prestige and respect. He rose through the ranks with quiet dignity and unshakable conviction.
Even those who once disrespected or mocked his parents cowered before him, offering their daughters and food. Han Cheng was uninterested and remained focused on improving the lives of those who were in the same shoes as him.
He would say he is well-versed in the political scene of the world as he was soon chosen by his country to represent their interests and a champion for the lower class.
"N-Now, I'm so close to you, Father…" Han Cheng whispered, covering his forehead in pain. He grunted regretfully. "I hope you, Mama, and Mei Mei can finally rest in peace."
Unable to handle the ache in his heart, he stumbled into the bathroom, splashing cold water on his face. He dried it with a clean towel before slowly stepping back into the room.
He immediately froze.
The lights flickered unnaturally.
He could almost feel it—he was no longer alone.
His hand instinctively drifted to the pistol by his waist, fingers wrapping tightly around the grip.
"Who's there?" Han Cheng demanded coldly, raising his voice so others might hear him from outside. "Come out."
From the corner of his eye, he spotted a figure standing to his right, its face shrouded in darkness, blending into the shadows of the wall.
Almost instantly, he ducked down just as silenced gunshots rang out, each one striking the desk and the piece of paper. It was intentional.
Han Cheng cursed under his breath. Just as he prepared to retaliate, a sharp pain shot through his right arm, rendering it useless.
It was an assassination attempt.
The gunshots were eerily quiet.
One to the chest.
One to the neck.
A third, though unnecessary, aimed directly at his heart.
Han Cheng collapsed, twitching briefly before falling still. His blood soaked into the fine carpet, flowing outward in streams, each line whispering of lives lost, of hopes abandoned, of peace never realized.
As his vision dimmed, a final, agonizing thought filled his mind.
I was so close…
The assassin did not flee.
He did not take the document.
Instead, he stood silently for a moment, then removed his mask, revealing a familiar face.
Xia Ke.
He looked toward the open window and laughed maniacally.
"I told you. You didn't listen."
"Peace at the cost of our sovereignty? Not on my watch."
With those final words, he put his mask back on and vanished into the night through the window.
----
…
Ding!
…
Ding!
Han Cheng's consciousness stirred.
The sound, was it his alarm?
He reached out for his phone instinctively, but the scent of sandalwood and the touch of silk startled him.
His body ached terribly.
"Ugh!"
Why does it hurt so much?
He sat up sharply, eyes flying open as he took in the unfamiliar surroundings.
He swung the blanket aside and looked down. His chest was bruised, but whole again.
He placed a trembling hand over it, slowly recalling everything that had happened.
An assassin… shots… I died. Or did I?
His chest, which had been torn apart by bullets, was now intact, albeit battered.
"I'm still alive?" he muttered, disbelief thick in his voice. "How is that even possible?"
The bed he lay on was massive, a canopy bed draped in crimson curtains embroidered with golden dragons. The room around him was regal, far more opulent than the hotel suite he remembered.
This isn't Geneva.
As he leaned back slightly, his left hand brushed against something soft.
He turned his head.
A small figure was curled up beside him under the blanket.
A little girl.
Her black hair spilled over her cheeks. Her tiny hands were pressed together in a prayer-like gesture. Her puffed cheeks rose and fell with every soft snore, peaceful and unbothered by the world.
Uh… why is there a little girl in my bed?
Han Cheng frowned. What kind of parents let their child sleep with a stranger?
Inside his head, he scolded the parents. But he sighed with relief that at least she ended up next to him, and not someone dangerous. Still, he'd like a word with them.
Just as he was about to wake her up, a voice echoed in his head.
[Welcome, Host.]
[You are now inhabiting the body of Stephen Darcheval, the disgraced Crown Prince of Veveria.]
[Current Status: Politically irrelevant. Publicly mocked. Domestically… tolerated.]
[Mission: Rebuild national influence. Secure succession. Protect designated dependent: Elara Darcheval.]
[Diplomatic Strategist System initialization complete.]
"…What?"
Han Cheng blinked.
Then blinked again.
What is this? Where am I?
Who the hell are you, speaking to me inside my head?!
The little girl stirred, her eyes fluttering open. She looked at him with sleepy innocence, then mumbled softly:
"Papa?"
Han Cheng's hair stood on end.
His soul nearly fled his body.
Papa?!?!?! But I don't remember having a child?!