Emperor Yunqi: This one, and this one, and…
The State Preceptor was too desperate to survive. He reacted too quickly, but ended up harming an unfortunate soul who hadn’t reacted in time.
Gu Yue’s mind was still lingering in the immense amount of information brought by the Celestial Screen just moments ago. As the officials bowed, he hadn’t yet had time to move when he heard Emperor Yunqi’s footsteps stop extremely close to him.
As soon as he looked up, he saw a pair of eyes like those of a venomous snake. The malice contained within them was all too familiar, uncontrollably reminding him of a certain madman from his past life who had also wielded the Sword of the Emperor.
Gu Yue’s face instantly paled for a moment, his fingertips trembling slightly.
It was an instinctive reaction of the body. Even though Gu Yue tried his best to control it immediately, he couldn’t.
It’s over. This later emperor, whose reign name is Yunqi, has found a second weakness. If he doesn’t seize this opportunity, he wouldn’t be an emperor.
Gu Yue began apologizing in his heart to this body of his: Sorry, I couldn’t extend your life, but mine wasn’t extended either. Consider it a life for a life.
“Speaking of which, I suddenly remember that a few days ago, the eldest son of the Minister of War was seeking a marriage proposal…”
Gu Yue’s eyes widened. In the original owner’s memory, there was an image of the eldest son of the Minister of War—a robust and sturdy military officer who, however, enjoyed embroidery, a skill traditionally associated with women in secular society. His reputation was well-known, which was why he had yet to marry.
But why was Emperor Yunqi asking him this question now? Could he not be randomly arranging marriages? Xiao Jingchuan… Your Majesty back then wasn’t this insane!
Gu Yue’s intuition had always been sharp, and it was this very intuition that had helped him narrowly escape death time and again on battlefields littered with corpses and rivers of blood.
“In that case, what do you think?”
Emperor Yunqi asked with a beaming smile.
The military officials around him instantly moved several feet away from Gu Yue, their gazes filled with pity as they looked at him.
Poor child. It seemed like his first time at court, and he had already run into His Majesty’s Madness Disorder.
Emperor Yunqi was not the first to randomly arrange marriages. Many people, or their family members, had been bestowed marriages by him. Quite a few officials had even taken sides between the Third Prince and the Crown Prince because of this.
Emperor Yunqi: What? There are still people remaining neutral in the conflict between the two factions? All of you, start fighting!
The civil and military officials all turned their gazes to the State Preceptor, who was kneeling properly. For a moment, their minor grievances against him vanished.
They had just thought His Majesty was getting better, but it seemed it was only an intermittent moment of sanity during his illness. No wonder the State Preceptor kowtowed and bowed immediately—he truly knew when to yield and when to stand firm!
“Your subject…”
Before Gu Yue could react, he had just bowed and was about to speak when Emperor Yunqi suddenly changed his expression: “Are you trying to defy my decree?”
Gu Yue: “Your subject—”
Emperor Yunqi gave him no chance to explain, shouting loudly: “Where are the Black Dragon Guards?! Drag him away and throw him into the Imperial Prison! He can come out only when he agrees to the marriage!”
Gu Yue: ??? I haven’t even spoken yet?
Gu Yue gritted his teeth inwardly. This later emperor had definitely noticed him failing to react twice and looking directly at the imperial face! He was just looking for an excuse to punish him. Who would have thought he’d retaliate in this way…
The officials, like kowtowing machines, only wanted to end the court session, completely indifferent to the lives of their colleagues around them: “Your Majesty is wise!”
As he was dragged away, Gu Yue heard these words and felt so angry he wanted to laugh.
After executing a man and watching the Celestial Screen, Emperor Yunqi imprisoned another person upon learning that his dynasty would produce an unparalleled emperor throughout the ages. He appeared thoroughly exhilarated, like a fully charged electric toy, pacing incessantly within Yunxing Hall. As the timekeeping bell outside the grand hall chimed once, he waved his hand, signaling the officials to retire from court.
The civil and military officials, as if granted a great amnesty, filed out almost in a continuous stream, charging forth like students rushing to the academy cafeteria at mealtime. Soon, Yunxing Hall was left with only the Black Dragon Guards who constantly attended the emperor and the eunuchs of the Ceremonial Directorate, remaining behind to tidy up the hall after the court session.
“How is Consort Gan?” Emperor Yunqi sat on the Dragon Throne, closed his eyes, and suddenly spoke.
“Reporting to Your Majesty, the Consort was disturbed by yesterday’s fright and is said to be unwell today,” replied Eunuch Lu, the chief eunuch of the Ceremonial Directorate who regularly served before the emperor, hastily bending at the waist to explain.
“Tell her that today I am going to the Alchemy Chamber to see the results of the newly recruited alchemists from the Astrological Bureau. Tomorrow, I will go to bestow rewards upon her.” Emperor Yunqi did not open his eyes, making the decision in a few words:
“…By the way, select one from the Black Dragon Guards who has been granted a surname and send him to visit Consort Gan. Every word Consort Gan says must be reported to me exactly as spoken.”
Emperor Yunqi tapped the Dragon Throne, rose, and walked toward the hall’s entrance. He paused for a long moment before the still-uncleaned bloodstain of Jun He, then left with a loud laugh, his eyes clear and lucid, utterly unlike the madness he had displayed earlier in the hall.
“White jade like cicadas is all illusion; pointing at the moon under the blue sky is also falsehood. A single golden elixir enters the belly, and only then do I know my fate is not governed by heaven—Since auspicious signs now descend from heaven, it means our ancestors also approve of my methods. Having spent so much silver, I hope the quality of this elixir will be better this time… Otherwise…”
Emperor Yunqi’s words carried implied meaning.
Eunuch Lu hurriedly trotted to keep up, subtly kicking the carpet to cover Jun He’s bloodstain: “Your Majesty’s longevity shines brilliantly. Those alchemists, blessed by Your Majesty’s great fortune, naturally refine divine objects imbued with immortal energy. If Your Majesty’s words decree it so, then so it shall be.”
Eunuch Lu blinked uncomfortably. Though Jun He’s bloodstain was covered, that patch of carpet still seemed glaringly red.
Pointing at the moon under the blue sky is also falsehood.
**
In the Imperial Prison of Jinling City, the capital of Nan Qian.
Sunlight from the narrow skylight poured into this small square courtyard, shimmering with a faint golden hue under the reflection of the Qin Emperor’s Bone-Reflecting Mirror.
They were imprisoned too deeply. Although they could hear the shouts and cries of the jailers outside, the distance was too great. After struggling for a long time without being able to discern what the jailers were saying, Xiao Jingchuan and Jun Youcheng simply began discussing serious matters.
Although the Imperial Prison was damp, cold, and the jailers too lazy to bother—even the routine morning and evening patrols might not be completed fully, so there was little worry of eavesdroppers—Xiao Jingchuan, taking precautions, still used the soundproofing function of the Bone-Reflecting Mirror, unlocked in his previous life, to create a light circle similar to a “barrier.”
“Once might be coincidence, but would the system be so kind a second time?”
Jun Youcheng remained silent for a long time before speaking again, getting straight to the point.
There is no such thing as a free lunch. All gifts of fate come with unseen costs.
This principle was understood even by him, an ordinary civil servant from a later era, let alone Xiao Jingchuan, the founding emperor who had crawled out from among rebel corpses.
What exactly did the Immortal behind the Bone-Reflecting Mirror want to use Xiao Jingchuan for?
But… why ask Xiao Jingchuan? Isn’t he the one who knows best what Da Qian will become?
No, Jun Youcheng pressed a hand to his temple with a headache, suddenly realizing that after two rebirths, his memories from before his transmigration had actually grown quite hazy.
What was the history of Central Qian like again?
Jun Youcheng suddenly felt very cold.
He had forgotten so much. Would he continue forgetting like this until he could no longer recall the path he came from or his real name?
Yet his original name was also Jun Youcheng.
Three lifetimes with the same name—for a moment, a chilling sensation enveloped him.
“…That’s not important. What matters is that something is better than nothing. We can’t die yet. With Da Qian’s territory and judicial system in such a state, your achievements remain unfinished. Forget about me—are you willing to accept that?”
Xiao Jingchuan was scratching his head while trying to learn how to stuff a pillow from Jun Youcheng. Hearing this, his movements didn’t slow in the slightest. Seeing Jun Youcheng’s face pale slightly, he thought he was worrying again, so his voice took on a distinct tone of seriousness.
Jun Youcheng paused, pulled back by Xiao Jingchuan’s voice.
To be honest, he truly was unwilling. Two hundred years ago in his previous life, Jun Youcheng, the founding chancellor, personally drafted the laws and household registration system, desperately striving to accomplish more in this chaotic era centuries earlier. Because his laws, imbued with distinct modern people-oriented characteristics, could save more lives compared to the original historical trajectory—even if only a few, it would still be a worthy end.
But heaven showed no favor. The Great Qian Code was only half-written, and Da Qian, a newly established dynasty, was still in the midst of rebuilding everything from scratch when he suddenly passed away from exhaustion. Viewed through the lens of a 21st-century modern person, it was probably a case of overwork leading to a fatal stroke.
No one knew that when he lost consciousness before the mountain of official documents, his only thought was to survive.
At least finish writing the Great Qian Code.
Jun Youcheng sighed. “You’re still the same as before, best at reading people’s hearts. Coincidentally, I don’t want to die either. There are things I need to do while alive.”
“I’m unwilling—utterly unwilling to die like that.”
Xiao Jingchuan raised an eyebrow, looking pleased, but he quickly changed the subject under Jun Youcheng’s grim expression. “Speaking of which, my dear minister, why do you always call it ‘the system’ instead of ‘little mirror’ or ‘Bone-Reflecting Mirror’? Don’t you find it awkward?”
Jun Youcheng was taken aback, swiftly concealing the complex emotions in his eyes as he deflected the topic. “…It’s merely a habit of mine, Your Majesty. If the general and the State Preceptor have experienced something similar to us… shouldn’t we seek them out now? Isn’t this implementation efficiency too low?”
Xiao Jingchuan didn’t press further, having grown accustomed to Jun Youcheng’s sudden, inexplicable terms. He waved a hand dismissively. “No need to search. Just wait. They’ll come.”
Jun Youcheng found this baffling. “What if they don’t come?”
He truly never understood where this guy’s confidence came from.
“If they don’t come, we’ll just go find them. It’s no big deal. Besides, my luck has always been good.”
Xiao Jingchuan abruptly lifted his head from a pile of weeds, smiling exactly as he had when Jun Youcheng first met him a hundred years ago.
Not at all like an emperor.
The formulaic smile on Jun Youcheng’s lips faded, replaced by a trace of genuine warmth.
[Someone is approaching, Host Your Majesty.]
The voice of the Bone-Reflecting Mirror echoed in the ears of Jun Youcheng and Xiao Jingchuan. The golden halo vanished abruptly, and the next moment, two grim-faced jailers dragged another familiar-looking youth into the narrow courtyard.
Without a word, the jailers shoved the cold-faced young man into the cell and hurried away, muttering about hurrying to watch the Celestial Screen, their demeanor utterly relaxed.
The third occupant of the four-sided prison was now in place.
The high-ponytailed youth in the deep blue Rhinoceros Emblem Robe and Jun Youcheng stared at each other, taking in each other’s civil and military official uniforms.
He appeared around the same age as Jun Youcheng and Xiao Jingchuan, perhaps slightly younger—about eighteen or nineteen. His looks defied the stereotypical image of a typical military officer: delicate and handsome, with a crimson tail at the corner of his eye and a Pear Rain Tear Mole beneath it, even bordering on striking.
It was precisely this appearance that had compelled the Great General in his previous life to wear a Nuo Sorcerer Mask from the Chu region whenever he went to war.
After the jailers disappeared, the Bone-Reflecting Mirror dutifully raised its soundproof halo.
Xiao Jingchuan and Jun Youcheng each let out an exclamation from their respective cells: “Wow.”
Gu Yue was still reeling from the shock of the later dynasty’s court and hadn’t fully regained his senses. He shook his head, as if trying to shake the absurd experience from his mind.
“Your Majesty!… Chancellor…”
Gu Yue suddenly realized that the people in the cell opposite and the one next to him seemed quite familiar. Not only did their appearances match those from his previous life exactly, but even the divine mirror that His Majesty never parted with was present.
It was absolutely impossible for anyone to impersonate them. Gu Yue breathed a sigh of relief.
“Mhmm, my dear minister, you have sharp eyes, recognizing Us and the Chancellor at a glance. Welcome back to the team, Great General.”
Xiao Jingchuan was practically ready to plant his hands on his hips and ascend the throne right there in the cell. Just as he was about to put on some imperial airs, he saw the righteous-faced Gu Yue’s joyful expression of reunion quickly fade, replaced by a look of sorrowful anguish.
“Your Majesty! I must appeal! Your descendant just arrested me on the most unreasonable grounds! If this continues, how can Da Qian endure and flourish for generations to come!”
As he spoke, Gu Yue noticed that Xiao Jingchuan remained calm and composed, and he was taken aback: “Your Majesty, you’re not planning to… intervene?”
His face clearly read: I can’t stand to watch this.
Xiao Jingchuan crouched down, continuing to struggle with the half-finished straw in his hands, gritting his teeth: “Great General, don’t rush. Our descendants have their own blessings to seek. Why should I meddle now?”
He pointed to the thick iron bars surrounding them: “Right now, we can hardly save ourselves.”
Gu Yue took a deep breath, silently reciting, ‘The King treated me with great kindness, I must not get angry,’ but ultimately couldn’t hold back: “But… the young emperor wants me to marry the son of the Minister of War! Before I could even respond, I was thrown in here for defying the imperial decree! The Historian beside him recorded it all clearly!”
The implication was that Da Qian was destined to leave a farcical name in the Historical Records.
The third straw pillow Jun Youcheng had been quietly weaving slipped from his hands and fell to the ground. He had already calmly begun considering how to restrain Xiao Jingchuan and Gu Yue—those two impulsive fellows—later.
“What reason?!”
Xiao Jingchuan threw down the straw, his vision darkening.
Knowing that in later generations the realm would be unstable, divided into two nations—one corrupt and lawless, the other ravaged by war—with the Northern Barbarians eyeing it covetously, he hadn’t been this devastated. After all, the rise and fall of empires followed their own course, and he had always taken such things in stride. But now, he couldn’t even maintain the facade of a cultured emperor. He didn’t bother with formalities like “Heaven help us” and blurted out:
“Good heavens! My Donghuang Taiyi!”
He never dreamed in his wildest nightmares that Emperor Yunqi, that cheap old ancestor of his, could go so madly absurd. Accepting that the dynasty he had built with his own hands would perish in the historical records like any other was one thing, but he couldn’t bear the thought of being ridiculed by posterity for all eternity!
Couldn’t that old ancestor, for the sake of his forebears, have at least come up with a somewhat reasonable excuse?
Well, now it was done. Xiao Jingchuan thought with bitter despair that down in the Nine Springs, he’d surely be laughed to death by the emperors of Great Yan and his rivals from the Three Kings’ Conflict—King Chu Wu and King Shu. He could almost see a crowd surrounding him, pointing at Emperor Yunqi and jeering, “Your descendant!”
“My dynasty is going to produce a tyrant monarch.”
Xiao Jingchuan murmured.
He glanced at the time displayed on the Bone-Reflecting Mirror—it had been two hours since he arrived here.
He hoped the State Preceptor would hurry.
Xiao Jingchuan thought to himself.
If the team couldn’t be assembled soon, he felt he might die of rage right here before even getting the chance to discipline his unfilial descendants.
Author’s Note:
Xiao Jingchuan: Now I’ll be a laughingstock in the historical records… Forget it, I can’t take it anymore. Might as well save it myself. Who else can I rely on? I’ll have to do it myself, damn it!
The other two kings from the Three Kings’ Conflict, watching the spectacle from the River of Forgetfulness while snacking on melon seeds: Impressive!
The unlucky Great General, because of a bet I made with a friend that led to this outcome, will just get married once. After all, this marriage is as good as not happening—everyone here is career-minded.
Xiao Jingchuan: …How can people be so cruel? How can such icy words come from 36-degree lips! Your mocking laughter is piercing my ears all the way from the River of Forgetfulness!