“Lu Heng! There’s one more proposal here. It’s extremely important. Polish it up and have it on my desk by eight tomorrow morning!”
A balding, middle-aged man slapped a document onto the desk.
“Consider every angle! Make sure it’s packed with content! Got it?”
Lu Heng looked up, revealing heavy, dark circles under his eyes.
The bald man’s face froze.
“Cough… Little Heng… Why are your lips turning a bit purple?”
“Is that Gothic style? Haha, you young people are so trendy.”
Lu Heng picked up the document: *Company Water Dispenser Usage Management Protocol*.
The veins on his forehead bulged, his heart hammered violently against his ribs, and before the curses could even leave his mouth—
His head lolled to the side, and he collapsed.
The last thing he heard as his consciousness faded was:
“Man, young people really do have great stamina. Falling asleep the second his head hits the desk.”
“But wait, why did that thumping heartbeat sound stop?”
***
Teyvat—Inazuma.
A pair of purple eyes, closed for five hundred years, suddenly snapped open without warning.
Her gaze pierced through a space of absolute silence, looking toward a distant dimension that no mortal could perceive.
After a moment of silence.
“An illusion?”
***
Lu Heng’s consciousness drifted in the chaos.
He had no idea how much time had passed.
Through the darkness, a faint, wispy voice echoed:
“Outlander…”
“You still have work to finish, so you cannot rest yet.”
He snapped his eyes open.
The suffocating sensation of death’s arrival still seemed to roar in his mind.
Lu Heng gasped sharply, his chest heaving like a broken bellows.
In the next instant, his senses came rushing back as the world crashed into him—light, sound, and the fresh scent of straw tatami mats flooded his mind.
What met his eyes was an entirely different sight.
Lu Heng froze for two seconds.
Slowly turning his neck, he looked through the window into the distance.
A massive, violet-black Tenshukaku stood tall in the distance.
He recognized that building.
He had watched that promotional video dozens of times in his rented apartment back then.
To pull for that woman, he had saved Primogems for countless nights, exploring every inch of the map, before finally standing in front of the Tenshukaku to hit the summon button.
At the time, he would never have dreamed that one day, he would actually be sitting in this city, looking through a window and seeing its silhouette with his own eyes.
But now was not the time for shock.
*Thud!*
A transfer order stamped with a bright red official seal was slammed onto the desk before him.
The force of the blow shook the teacup on the corner of the desk, sending ripples through the surface of the water.
The bamboo brush rack clattered sharply.
Along with the impact, a wave of memories belonging to the body’s original host shot through his brain like an electric current.
Enduring the agonizing pain of tearing memories, Lu Heng forced himself to look up.
A young man wearing a purple haori was looking down at him.
His features weren’t bad, but his brow was filled with undisguised arrogance, and a lazy smirk hung on the corner of his lips.
He kicked the edge of Lu Heng’s desk leg, shaking the teacup on the table so hard that tea splashed out.
Then, leaning forward, he poked a finger almost directly into Lu Heng’s nose.
“Lu Heng, stop playing dead. Clear out your workstation before six this afternoon.”
“Let me tell you—this is an official transfer order, stamped with the seal of the Tenryou Commission.”
“If you know what’s good for you, get lost on your own. Don’t make this young master call people to throw you out.”
Lu Heng was momentarily at a loss.
From his memories, he knew this person’s name.
He was a notorious playboy of the Kujou clan, Kujou Otake.
“Young Master Otake, I…”
Lu Heng forced a smile, wanting to say something to placate him.
*Bang!*
He kicked the edge of Lu Heng’s desk leg again, shaking the teacup on the table so hard that tea splashed out.
Then, leaning forward, he poked a finger almost directly into Lu Heng’s nose.
“Stop playing fucking games with me. Stamp the paper and get the hell out!”
“Young Master, how would I dare play games with you… I just need to read this transfer order before signing, lest some mistake occurs and causes you unnecessary trouble.”
“Hmph.” Kujou Otake snorted coldly, but he let go.
Lu Heng did not dare hesitate.
He quickly picked up the transfer order to read it.
However, the more he read, the more alarmed he became.
The phrasing was vague, filled with mountains of official jargon.
It didn’t define any division of responsibilities, nor did it mention any handover details.
The entire document was filled with phrases like “misfortune in military fortune” and “please step aside for the sake of the Shogun’s grand endeavor.”
Translated into plain terms, it meant: *Get lost.
If anything goes wrong, you take the fall.
Don’t drag me into it.*
He picked up another document.
The cover read: *Tenryou Commission Relief Grain Distribution—Concluded*.
He flipped it open and quickly scanned the lines.
Fifty thousand catties.
There was no distributor’s name, no record of receipt, and no remarks regarding where it had gone.
There was only an empty line stating “fully distributed as scheduled,” signed with an obscure code that was impossible to trace.
Lu Heng’s fingertips tightened against the edge of the paper, and cold sweat instantly drenched his back.
He was all too familiar with this tactic.
In his previous life, the family-run corporation he worked for used the exact same script every time something went wrong—the accounts looked beautiful on the surface, but underneath lay holes deliberately buried out of sight.
Once the truth came to light, they would pull a scapegoat with no background or backing from the very bottom to take the fall.
It was clean, efficient, and never failed.
And now, he was that scapegoat.
Fifty thousand catties of relief grain!
That was a monumental crime!
Right now, Inazuma was in an era where the Commissions ruled with absolute authority!
As a person of Liyue descent with no connections, this crime was enough to get his head chopped off by the Tenryou Commission ten times over!
He gritted his teeth, staring hard at the document.
He didn’t dare lift his head, but his thoughts had already tangled into a messy knot.
If he didn’t run, he would be pushed out to take the fall, rot in prison, or even face execution!
If he did run, he had no money.
Where could he possibly go?
He lowered his gaze, only to realize his hands were shaking violently.
Taking a deep breath, he forced himself not to think about the consequences.
Several ideas flashed rapidly through his mind.
Run!
He had to run!
Anywhere would do!
Lu Heng’s eyes darkened.
He took a deep breath, suppressing his extreme anxiety.
He glanced at the arrogant Kujou Otake standing before him.
*This guy doesn’t seem to know the truth behind this affair…
Otherwise, he could have just had me dragged away!*
*Kujou Otake…
a collateral-branch playboy notorious throughout Hanamizaka…*
A plan formed in Lu Heng’s mind, but he almost dismissed it the next second.
“Hey! I’m talking to you. Are you deaf?”
Seeing that Lu Heng had been ignoring him, Kujou Otake felt his pride wounded.
He waited a moment.
When he still got no reaction, his anger turned to embarrassment.
He reached out to sweep the documents off the desk, intending to flip the entire table over.
Lu Heng gritted his teeth and made up his mind.
Let’s do it!
*Slap.*
Lu Heng’s hand was faster.
His palm firmly pressed down on the pile of documents, his fingers curling slightly like holding down a bird about to fly away.
Then, he looked up.
An eager, almost flattering smile instantly appeared on his face, his eyes curving to just the right angle.
“Young Master Otake is absolutely right. Ah, this job really must be handed over to you.”
“I will write up a handover document right now. It will only take a moment.”
Stunned by this sudden change in attitude, Kujou Otake narrowed his eyes suspiciously, eyeing the man before him with wariness.
Lu Heng pulled a fresh sheet of paper from the pile, lifted the wolf-hair brush from the rack, dipped the tip heavily in ink, and began writing rapidly.
He wrote extremely fast, yet without a single trace of sloppiness.
Every stroke of his brush was distinct and clear, the writing flowing like water.
First, he penned a few beautiful compliments regarding the Shogun’s grand endeavors.
Then, he pivoted, spending the rest of the text praising Kujou Otake’s extraordinary abilities, laments over his own shallow talents, and his voluntary surrender of the scribe position to this worthy genius.
The *Tenryou Commission Scribe Position Handover Document* was completed in one breath.
He set down the brush, gently blew on the wet ink, and held the paper with both hands, respectfully presenting it to Kujou Otake.
With his other hand, he pushed the red inkpad over.
Lu Heng lowered his head, gritting his teeth.
He kept his breathing shallow and slow to calm his racing heart.
“Young Master Otake, please take a look. If everything is fine, please leave your print.”
Skeptical, Kujou Otake took the paper and scanned it.
He didn’t really understand most of the official jargon, but he clearly recognized the words “Lu Heng voluntarily relinquishes the position,” “Young Master Otake possesses extraordinary talent,” and “all achievements are attributed to Young Master Otake.” A satisfied smile spread across his face.
“At least you know your place.”
He snorted, pressed his thumb firmly into the red inkpad, and with a sharp *slap*, pressed his bright red thumbprint squarely onto the signature line of the handover document.
“Perfect!”
Lu Heng’s voice was as light as a waiter announcing that the dishes were ready.
He was quick of eye and hand, snatching the paper back in an instant—his movement so swift it was as if he was terrified the other man would regret it.
He brought the handover document to his lips, blowing on it a few times.
Once the ink was completely dry, he carefully folded it, once, twice, and tucked it flat into his inner pocket.
Then, he raised his head, staring calmly at Kujou Otake.
Startled by this sudden change, Kujou Otake was taken aback.
Why had this man’s expression changed so completely in an instant?!
He stared intently at Lu Heng, who only had a meaningful smile on his face.
Like a fox that had just lured its prey into a trap, Lu Heng sat leisurely by the edge of the pit, too lazy to even wag his tail, simply waiting to hear the thud of the prey hitting the bottom.
“My, Young Master Otake.”
The man before him spoke with a half-smile.
“You really are a wonderful person.”