In the Imperial Prison of Jinling City, the capital of Nan Qian.
A certain four-cell courtyard had just welcomed its second guest, marking a historic meeting between two cellmates.
The young scholar in a crimson robe had been thrown directly into the cell opposite Xiao Jingchuan by the prison guards. After the guards pulled the lever of the gear-operated gate and hurried away, he sat dazed on the mud-brick bed in the small compartment of his cell, still covered in blood, his eyes bewildered and tinged with a hint of disgust.
The smell of blood was simply too overpowering. Xiao Jingchuan, across the way, hadn’t been awakened by the loud, mechanical clanging of the prison gate, but rather by the thick, pungent scent of blood.
“Finally, someone’s here!”
The Bone-Reflecting Mirror buzzed with the sound of detecting talent. Xiao Jingchuan sprang up in a single leap and, upon seeing the dazed youth opposite him, was momentarily stunned—the boy bore an uncanny resemblance to the young version of the future prime minister who would leave his name in the annals of history a hundred years ago, almost identical.
It was Jun Youcheng—alive and breathing.
Xiao Jingchuan suddenly felt like laughing out loud.
Fate, with a casual stroke of its brush, had crafted a cruel twist: Jun Youcheng, the founding prime minister of Da Qian who was poised to complete the empire’s new framework, died young in his early thirties, never living to see old age. General Gu Yue and State Preceptor Dian Cui also passed away, some earlier, some later, leaving Xiao Jingchuan alone to struggle on for four years—over fourteen hundred days and nights.
But now, things were better. He had waited for Jun Youcheng. He was no longer the solitary, unfamiliar figure on the dragon throne from a hundred years ago.
Jun Youcheng, Gu Yue, Dian Cui… He would wait for each of them to arrive, one by one, and then lift the crumbling Da Qian from its precarious state. A sovereign’s word is his bond.
“Hey, buddy, with all that blood, did you die once or something?!”
Xiao Jingchuan quickly snapped out of his emotions. While carefully observing the movements of the guards, he gripped the wooden bars of the window and shouted across to the other cell.
Jun Youcheng seemed not to hear him at all. It wasn’t until Xiao Jingchuan’s shouts from the opposite cell grew increasingly pitiful that Jun Youcheng finally deigned to look up and meet his gaze.
The young man in the white round-collar robe clung desperately to the iron bars, waving vigorously at him. The smile on that handsome face still shone like winter sunlight—casually evoked, yet possessing the power to inspire unwavering loyalty.
Jun Youcheng stood up unsteadily. The new memories brought by this body were simply too overwhelming; he hadn’t fully regained his senses yet. In a daze, he offered Xiao Jingchuan a strange, awkward smile.
“Click.”
Then Jun Youcheng heard a sound resembling the shutter of a camera being pressed. He shuddered, jolted awake, and realized the other was holding up the familiar Bronze Mirror System from the Early Qian Period, which had helped them so much back then.
Xiao Jingchuan had never deliberately hidden it from the three of them, so Jun Youcheng not only knew of the mirror’s existence but also understood it possessed countless wondrous functions, much like the systems in transmigration novels from later eras. He had even privately joked about whether the system had bound itself to the wrong person—after all, he was the one who had transmigrated from the 21st century.
And now, that mirror was operating a function similar to a 21st-century camera, its flash glaringly bright.
“…Xiao Jingchuan, delete it.”
Jun Youcheng felt as if he had been abruptly dragged out from the ocean-deep, overlapping layers of triple memories. Gnashing his teeth, he suddenly seemed to return to the days a century ago when he followed Xiao Jingchuan around, fighting to establish their rule.
Back then, Xiao Jingchuan was not yet the Chang’an King, foremost among the three princes, nor the illustrious founding emperor of Da Qian celebrated in later history textbooks. He was merely a rogue guard who ate, drank, and used everything at Jun Youcheng’s expense, always dancing on the edge of his young master’s tolerance.
Looking at Xiao Jingchuan, who even a century later still wore that infuriatingly smug grin, Jun Youcheng hardly dared imagine how foolish his own expression had been just moments ago.
And of all people, this scoundrel had captured it on camera…
Jun Youcheng drifted for a moment—a single soul could no longer bear the memories of more than one person. Finally, he extracted “Jun Youcheng” from the memories of another “Jun Youcheng.” The blood and the swarming, murderous Black Dragon Guards suddenly felt distant. He seemed once again just an ordinary civil servant from the 21st century, or perhaps a drifting scion of an aristocratic family in the turbulent Yanmo Qianchu period, the founding chancellor of Da Qian.
After all, he was only one Jun Youcheng, unable to carry the weight of a second person.
Thus, he confirmed his own identity.
“How could I delete it? This is a one-of-a-kind treasure! I’m going to share it with Xiao Gu and Lao Cui for their appreciation!”
Xiao Jingchuan chewed on a blade of grass he had plucked from a crack in the ground, displaying none of the imperial dignity befitting a prince—utterly a spoiled heir. It infuriated Jun Youcheng so much he felt the newly healed wound in his chest might split open again.
But deep down, he knew that the injury inflicted by the Black Dragon Guards’ covert assassination attempt had long since healed completely after his transmigration into this body, just as it had a century ago during the Early Qian Period when he crossed into the body of the young Jun family master who had died amidst chaotic troops.
Transmigration carried a wondrous, mighty power—it could actually bring someone back to life twice.
Jun Youcheng stared blankly at Xiao Jingchuan in the opposite cell. How miraculous that he could see that face once again.
But after all, the founding chancellor of the founding emperor was still the founding chancellor. Quickly snapping out of his melancholy from three intertwined lifetimes, he sneered, “Since when did I know that with A-Yue and A-Cui around, you’d be here all miserable and pitiful?”
Xiao Jingchuan seized the opportunity: “Well said, my wise minister! They are indeed temporarily absent, so I’ll be relying on you greatly from now on!”
Jun Youcheng felt a vein throbbing at his temple. He had only meant to mock his childhood friend, the emperor, but he hadn’t expected the other to be so shameless, immediately kowtowing and placing a giant flattering hat on his head.
Having lived three lifetimes, Jun Youcheng was the first to yield under the Founding Emperor’s thick skin. “What’s going on?”
Xiao Jingchuan’s eyes darted around as he admired the prison. “Ah, this prison—back in our day, we never had conditions like this when we were locked up. Tsk tsk, Lao Jun, look at these gears, these cell doors…”
Jun Youcheng replied coldly, “Three… two…”
Like a student called upon by his teacher in the academy, Xiao Jingchuan instantly straightened up. “The Sixth Prince of the current dynasty is an idiot. Yesterday, he offended Consort Gan and got thrown into prison.”
Jun Youcheng wore an expression of incomprehension: Was this still the Central Plains language? Where on earth had this gotten him?
A prince, thrown into the Imperial Prison—where serious criminals like him, whose entire families were to be executed—without any trial, and for such a reason?
What about the principle of separating prisoners by status as written in the Great Qian Code? Royal relatives being casually discarded like this—where is the judicial system? Where is the authority of the law? Where is the dignity of the legal system? None of it has been implemented?
It’s simply a farce! Moreover, during the Early Qian Period, he had managed the entire judicial and prison system of Da Qian with extreme strictness. When revising the Great Qian Code, he had also established various requirements and restrictions to pass down to future generations. At the very least, the current Nan Qian should absolutely not be in such an absurd state!
Jun Youcheng restrained the impulse to storm off in anger—after all, he had nowhere to go—and shook his head. “It’s hopeless. I’m going to sleep first.”
With that, he gathered a few handfuls of straw on the ground. Back during the chaotic Early Qian Period, his and Xiao Jingchuan’s misfortune had landed them in various prisons under different factions more than once. He had become quite adept at making the most of minimal conditions to live more comfortably.
“Hey, hey, Lao Jun, don’t sleep! Lao Jun!”
Xiao Jingchuan, taking advantage of the fact that it was the guards’ lunch break and they wouldn’t be patrolling this area for a while, was acting quite brazenly. Gripping the bars, his eyebrows drooped, looking utterly dejected, as if a majestic white dragon had turned into a snow-white puppy, evoking pity in anyone who saw him.
Actually, he usually resembled a dog too—supporting the canine portrayal of the Qianwu Emperor!
Jun Youcheng thought to himself, but he quickly hardened his heart again.
“You still haven’t told me what your situation is now!”
He was putting on the pitiful act again.
Jun Youcheng paused in his task of bundling straw to make a pillow, his expression darkening further. Though he talked tough, he had always been soft-hearted. Otherwise, during the turbulent Early Qian Period, he wouldn’t have chosen to wander aimlessly with those three misfits picked up from various places instead of playing it safe and guarding the small territory of the millennia-old aristocratic Jun family, waiting for the world to stabilize.
Jun Youcheng was self-aware. Whenever he met Xiao Jingchuan’s bright, starry puppy-dog eyes, he found himself at a loss for words. He could only sigh and say in a tone of helplessness, like an elder, “Could it be that Your Majesty didn’t see the ‘B’-marked plaque hanging on my door?””
The prison section of the Great Qian Code explained that local and central Imperial Prisons were classified according to the Heavenly Stems to indicate the severity of the crimes.
Xiao Jingchuan was shocked. As a diligent founding emperor, he naturally knew this regulation, which he had discussed with Jun Youcheng back in the day. He said in disbelief, “What? Grade A criminals are those guilty of rebellion. What on earth did the family of this body of yours do?”
What did they do? Jun Youcheng recalled the memories in his mind, his expression growing even darker.
This body of his shared the same name as his own from a hundred years ago and was the youngest son of Jun He, the current Minister of Personnel, one of the Six Ministries. Although he came from the centuries-old aristocratic Jun family, he belonged to a collateral branch. Jun He himself had achieved the top three honors in the imperial examinations and had risen through the ranks entirely on his own merit.
But a month ago, Jun He’s protégé, Xu Lang, who was serving as the Governor of Jiangnan, caused a major disaster. The anti-bandit and coastal defense fronts were under severe pressure, and despite repeated allocations of funds by the court, there had been no results. The Third Prince submitted a memorial to remind the emperor. Enraged, Emperor Yunqi seemed to wake from a dream, suddenly deciding to do something good. He dispatched special envoys to thoroughly investigate the matter in Lin’an, where the governor was stationed. The investigation uncovered a huge problem.
The grain and funds allocated from the national treasury had all been brazenly embezzled by Xu Lang for personal gain. Emperor Yunqi was furious, and as the case continued to escalate, he ordered the confiscation of properties from numerous officials in Jiangnan. However, the seized assets fell far short of expectations.
Meanwhile, while raiding the residence of Jiangnan Governor Xu Lang, the Black Dragon Guards discovered a large number of correspondence and banknotes that had not yet been sent. The recipient’s name was none other than Jun He, the Minister of Personnel in Jinling City, who oversaw the appointments of all officials.
According to those letters, the amount embezzled by Minister of Personnel Jun He during his more than twenty years in office was nearly equivalent to one-third of Nan Qian’s annual fiscal revenue! This could undoubtedly be considered one of the root causes of the continuous banditry in the southeast!
Thus, Emperor Yunqi finally found the time to lift his head from his calligraphy, paintings, and elixirs. He erupted in fury during the court assembly and announced the extermination of Jun He’s three clans.
Jun He was brutally executed by the tyrannical emperor right in the court. Before the assembly even concluded, the Black Dragon Guards dispatched by Emperor Yunqi, along with the Minister of Justice and the Chief Minister of the Court of Judicial Review, swiftly set out. They stormed the completely unprepared Minister’s residence, confiscated the entire estate, and executed all members of the Jun family present on the spot.
Jun Youcheng was unfortunate enough to have transmigrated into the body of the Minister’s youngest son—the only member of this branch of the Jun family who was spared from immediate execution due to his young age and granted leniency by Emperor Yunqi.
As the memories faded, Jun Youcheng’s lips twisted into a bitter smile. He lowered his voice and sneered, “It’s no better than treason. Embezzling military provisions—three million in one go. The current emperor was enraged and sentenced him to the extermination of three clans.”
He had also been subjected to the extermination of three clans. Back in the chaotic Yanmo Qianchu period, his Jun family hadn’t even been exterminated by the tyrannical Yan!
Moreover, the Third Prince acted so swiftly and decisively—was he afraid others wouldn’t notice he had something to hide?
Jun Youcheng was seething with anger, his movements growing faster as he worked. He tied the overlapping straw into a loop and secured it firmly, skillfully crafting a perfect straw pillow that conformed to the curve of the neck for sleeping at night.
He turned his head and saw Xiao Jingchuan still standing there, his once-bright eyes now dimmed, looking somewhat lost and hesitant.
Had his earlier anger frightened this young emperor? Surely not?
Jun Youcheng sighed, resigning himself to the thought that his premature death in his previous life must have been a debt he owed him. He spoke resignedly, “Your Majesty, say whatever you wish.”
Xiao Jingchuan fidgeted with his fingers, looking as pitiful as could be. “Really? You’re not angry?”
Jun Youcheng’s voice softened. “I’m not angry, and certainly not at you.”
It seemed he had indeed frightened him earlier.
Jun Youcheng began to reflect, his heart tightening with concern.
Xiao Jingchuan’s eyes suddenly lit up. He lowered his voice and whispered conspiratorially:
“I’ve been thinking since I started waiting for you—could you make me a pillow too? This mud-brick bed is so hard. Without your craftsmanship, it’s truly unbearable!”
Jun Youcheng clenched his fist, his anxious heart finally sinking into despair.
Just as he was about to speak, he heard the sudden commotion of prison guards’ footsteps outside.
“What is that?! Why is there something in the sky? It looks like… people?!”
“It must be a projection from the Immortal Realm—immortals! The immortals have manifested!”
A prison guard’s voice cried out.
Jun Youcheng thought to himself with dread: …Isn’t this Qian Dynasty I’ve transmigrated into the historical Qian Dynasty?
How is it also a Celestial Screen genre setting?!