Chapter 1: A Catastrophic Start

"Cough! Cough!"

Yan Shixu was choked awake by a searing, bitter, and metallic taste in his throat. His tongue felt prickly and itchy, and waves of sharp pain radiated from his abdomen.

*What’s going on? Did I eat something bad?*

He opened his eyes. Instead of a ceiling, he saw a piece of coarse burlap draped over his head. The light in the room was dim.

The yellowish glow of a candle flickered against rammed earth walls and a lattice window. A straw raincoat and a bronze mirror hung on the wall. Within his sight were a low table, a prayer mat, a wooden basin, a sweat towel, crushed soapnuts, and bloodied clothes along with stained linen bandages scattered by the bed...

*Where am I?*

After a few seconds of dazed silence, he noticed he was clutching a small porcelain bottle in his left hand.

These were the hands of a youth, yet the palms were covered in thick calluses and felt incredibly powerful.

*These aren't my hands!!*

Yan Shixu’s expression shifted. He threw off the burlap sheet and stumbled toward the bronze mirror.

As he passed the low table, he instinctively grabbed the oil lamp.

Reflected in the bronze mirror was the face of a youth—fair and handsome, with eyes that sparkled like stars in the candlelight. He had a smooth, perfect jawline, the very picture of a refined, beautiful young man.

*Who is this?* Startled, he recoiled, and hot oil splashed onto the back of his hand.

He had been nearsighted since middle school. After entering the workforce, his face had become bloated from a diet of pre-packaged convenience meals. He had never possessed such peerless beauty.

To wake up in a strange environment was one thing, but his entire "hardware" had been replaced?

Suddenly, fragments of disjointed, chaotic memories flooded his mind—

The current dynasty was the Great Sheng, the year was the third of the Changping era. This body belonged to Yan Shixu, courtesy name Boheng, a resident of Ningyang Ward in the Eastern Capital. He was a "chosen one" whose parents were both dead, and he had been raised by his elder sister since childhood.

When he was eleven, his sister had been caught in the crossfire of a military conflict and died under the iron hooves of a rebellious provincial army. From then on, he had lived with his brother-in-law.

*I’ve traveled to another world?* Yan Shixu’s heart sank.

In his past life, his father had been a writer who lived on the edge of censorship by critiquing current events. Yan Shixu had grown up scouring his father's study. Although his talent was limited and he hadn't followed in his father's footsteps, he had at least become a bit of a polymath.

If he had traveled to ancient China, he might have thrived by predicting the future. In a different world, things wouldn't be so easy.

Furthermore, according to the original host's memories, the Great Sheng Dynasty was in a state of war. Arrogant soldiers and fierce generals were everywhere; life was hard for the common people.

He continued to digest the memories...

Shortly after his sister’s death, an old Confucian scholar had found him. Claiming to be an old friend of his sister, the scholar asked Yan Shixu if he was willing to work for him.

Yan Shixu had asked what the work was.

The old scholar, whose hair had not yet turned gray at the time, said: To seek a future for the world.

From then on, he became a "Wanderer of No Return" in the martial world.

Tonight, Yan Shixu had undertaken the first mission of his life: to infiltrate Dinghui Temple and steal a jade disc from the Mingzong era.

During the operation, he and his companion were surrounded by night-patrolling martial monks. Yan Shixu was gravely injured, his internal organs nearly shattered, while his companion was struck by Zen Master Jingxin’s "Formless Seal."

They had managed to fight their way out with the jade disc, but the mantis stalks the cicada, unaware of the oriole behind—the hounds of the Bureau of Investigation had tracked them all the way to Ningyang Ward.

In despair, the original host, already dying from his wounds, had swallowed poison to avoid being a burden to his companion.

"Dying before the mission is complete, and making me drop into the game right into a death-trap... My luck is just too bitter."

The Eastern Capital was at war. When the Bureau of Investigation hunted spies, they preferred killing the innocent over letting a culprit escape.

Once the Bureau arrived, he would be a dead man.

*Should I just fight my way out? The original host was dying, but I’m not injured anymore.*

He checked his physical condition; he was healthy and strong, in his prime in every sense.

But he quickly dismissed the idea.

Though he had practiced martial arts for eight years, he had never reached the "Ranked" level. There was no way he could escape an encirclement by Investigation Officers.

*Think, use your brain, think of a way...*

Yan Shixu paced back and forth in the room.

Suddenly, a loud crash erupted outside. The courtyard gate was kicked open, followed by the sound of heavy, chaotic footsteps.

Yan Shixu’s heart jolted. He blew out the oil lamp, rushed to the door, and peered through the crack.

Firelight!

There was blazing firelight everywhere!

A group of Investigation Officers dressed in black round-collar robes swarmed into the courtyard.

They were armed with crossbows and sabers, carrying elm staffs, ropes, and grappling hooks. The leader, a bearded man, held the leash of a sleek, black hound.

The Investigation Officers of the Bureau of Investigation.

"The Bureau of Investigation is conducting official business! Those inside, open the door immediately!" the bearded man shouted.

The room was deathly silent, save for the flickering light of a dying lamp.

The bearded man immediately gave the order:

"Break the door down! Kill the rebels on sight!"

The soldiers gripped their saber hilts in unison as crossbows were silently cocked. The air thickened with killing intent.

"Sigh..."

Yan Shixu let out a sigh and opened the wooden door.

With a creak of the door, the crossbowmen raised their arms to aim, their fingers tightening on the triggers.

"Officers, have mercy! Officers, spare me!" Yan Shixu shouted loudly. He reflexively raised his hands, then quickly lowered them, changing the gesture to a respectful cupped-fist salute.

Two Investigation Officers stepped forward, pinned Yan Shixu to the ground with elm staffs, and tied his hands.

The previously quiet black hound suddenly began barking furiously at the house.

The bearded man said, "Search!"

Six Investigation Officers holding torches swarmed into the house. The firelight moved through the room as the sounds of crashing and banging echoed out.

A moment later, the officers returned to report.

"Captain, we found bloodied clothing and the jade disc stolen from Dinghui Temple tonight."

The bearded man strode forward and carefully took the bundle. He scrutinized the translucent white jade disc, and a look of relief washed over his cold, hardened face.

He immediately asked, "Are there any accomplices?"

"We found no other suspicious persons."

The bearded man looked somewhat disappointed. He turned his gaze to Yan Shixu, who was pinned to the ground by multiple wooden staffs.

"Where is your accomplice hiding?"

A look of pure, innocent confusion appeared in Yan Shixu’s eyes as he cried out in grievance:

"Officer, why do you say such things? What rebel? I am a law-abiding citizen! In the middle of the night, you break into my home and smash my belongings—what do you take the laws of the Great Sheng for?"

The bearded man sneered. "Still stubborn even at death's door. Take him away!"

A soldier unfastened his long saber and struck Yan Shixu on the head with the scabbard.

*Thwack!*

Yan Shixu lost consciousness.

...

The Great Dungeon, Interrogation Room!

A jailer hauled a bucket of cold water and splashed it down.

*Splash!*

Yan Shixu jerked awake, his head throbbing as if he’d been beaten with a club several times over.

A brazier burned brightly, illuminating the whips, shackles, gouging knives, and other torture implements hanging on the rough walls. The air was thick with the scent of decay and dampness.

He was bound to a wooden cross, much like a certain historical figure.

He surveyed the interrogation room. The old Confucian scholar—his superior and teacher—had once said that the Bureau of Investigation’s dungeon was a place that could make stones speak.

No matter how tough a martial arts hero was, they wouldn't last a single night.

Outside, surrendering might mean staying alive, but here, "confession for leniency" didn't exist. There was only the choice between a quick death or a slow one.

The real crisis was about to begin.

The short, stout jailer who had thrown the water put down the bucket and looked toward a desk ten feet away.

"Magistrate Yang, he is awake. Shall we begin the torture?"

Yan Shixu was stunned, cursing inwardly: *You haven't even questioned me yet and you're starting with torture? Don't you know the rules?*

Behind the desk sat a figure in a crimson round-collar robe.

The man had regular features, clear eyes, and a mustache that curled at the ends like a fish's tail. A glossy black beard hung from his chin. His robe was made of high-quality Sichuan silk, and he wore a soft-winged cap made of black gauze.

He didn't look like a cruel official; he looked more like a refined scholar.

Magistrate Yang sat behind the desk, admiring the carvings on the jade disc by candlelight. Without looking up, he said:

"I applied 'Silk-Tracing Scent' to this jade disc. It has a very specific odor that humans cannot smell, but a trained hound can track.

"When you two stole the disc, you clearly didn't notice anything. Yet when the Investigation Officers broke in, they only caught you, while the other escaped... I suspect there is a master behind you who discovered the trick I played on the jade.

"However, I cannot figure out one thing: why were you the one left behind?"

*Because I've restarted my account!* Yan Shixu acted like a frightened, honest commoner and said in terror:

"I don't know anything about a jade disc or any 'Silk-Tracing Scent.' I was sleeping at home when I was suddenly dragged here..."

Before Magistrate Yang could speak, the stout jailer grew impatient.

"Magistrate, let's just use the torture. Don't waste your words on him."

The scholarly Magistrate Yang gave a hum of agreement and continued to toy with the jade.

The jailer took a spiked whip from the wall and said:

"The Bureau of Investigation’s dungeon has seventy-two methods of punishment. Blades and axes are common; we have skinning, needle-insertion, the sky-lantern, lead-pouring, bowel-pulling, and 'plucking the pipa.' Every single one makes a man wish he were dead."

As he spoke, he dipped the whip into a bucket of salt water.

*Holy shit, that's going to hurt!* Yan Shixu hurriedly spoke up:

"Wait!

"You say I entered the temple to steal treasure, but do you have evidence?"

Magistrate Yang Fashan toyed with the jade disc. "The officers found the bloodied clothes, sleeve-arrows, and the jade disc in your house. Two martial monks from Dinghui Temple died from hidden weapons coated in 'Blood-Sealing Throat' poison. After comparison, the poison matches the needles in the sleeve-arrows. The physical evidence is all here—how do you intend to quibble?"

"No, no, you're framing me." Yan Shixu denied it flatly, his emotions seemingly agitated.

Magistrate Yang put down the jade disc, looked up, and said calmly:

"You have no fertile land, no beautiful maids, no scholarly rank, and no official post. Why would I bother framing a commoner like you?"

Yan Shixu froze. He looked confused at first, then vacant, and finally guilty. His voice grew weak:

"I... I don't remember..."