Chapter 2

Every member of the Meng family had a swarm of servants. Once the three left, the remaining servants also departed, leaving most of the room empty.

Jinzhu and the others remained kneeling, cautiously observing Meng Xizhao’s expression. Boldest of all, Jinzhu spoke: “My lord—”

Before she could finish, he suddenly flipped out of bed, ignoring his shoes, and began frantically rummaging through boxes and cabinets.

Jinzhu scrambled to his side, “My lord, what are you looking for? Let me help.”

“Yes, yes. My lord, your illness isn’t fully healed—better rest.”

Meng Xizhao searched in vain, then straightened: “Where are the paper and brush?”

Jinzhu and Yinliu stared blankly.

Thinking they hadn’t understood, he patiently clarified: “Ink, brush, paper, inkstone.”

They exchanged glances.

Finally, Jinzhu quietly reminded him: “My lord, we don’t have these here.”

Yinliu: “Shall I go borrow some from the eldest young master?”

Meng Xizhao: “……”

I really don’t understand the habits of a playboy.

He didn’t respond. Jinzhu shot Yinliu a glance; Yinliu ran off to borrow supplies, while Jinzhu led the other young women in attending to Meng Xizhao. Those who were supposed to support him did so, those who were supposed to offer handkerchiefs did so. By the time he realized, he was pressed back onto the bed, enjoying face-wiping and leg-rubbing services.

H-How is this… actually kind of pleasant?

Thankfully, amid the massages, Meng Xizhao didn’t lose himself. He focused, recalling the book’s plot, determined to memorize every character and every event, ensuring nothing would be forgotten.

Being a humanities student, he excelled at rote memorization.

Adopting the mindset for a final exam, he reviewed the entire book. Yet he realized… it seemed useless.

He hadn’t survived to the paid chapters. What use was remembering the following million-plus words? By then, his grave would be three meters tall.

…

So the immediate priority was survival.

—Sang Fanyu.

This was the spark that set off the series of tragedies for Meng Xizhao and the Meng family.

Sang Fanyu was a rising star on Baihua Street—poetry, music, singing, every skill top-notch. She had just debuted this year, and right from the start she was at the peak; only the greatest poets and literati would entertain her.

Whether it was someone like Meng Xizhao or the Young Master of Ningyuan Marquis, she looked down on them both, considering it beneath her to meet with them. Ningyuan’s reputation was slightly better than Meng Xizhao’s, so after he spent three months trying to bribe her, Sang Fanyu decided, for the sake of the money, to give him a little taste.

Who knew where Meng Xizhao had gotten the idea that if Ningyuan’s young master could, so could he? Completely clueless, he brought a group over to cause a scene.

But the Young Master of Ningyuan Marquis was not one to be trifled with. One blow, and Meng Xizhao was knocked out.

Here it’s worth explaining Meng Xizhao’s background. His father was the current Grand Tutor, Holder of the Title of Founder of the House with the Rank of Third Supervisor, and participated in government affairs—the first two were honorary titles, the last one the actual office, equivalent to a vice prime minister.

This was a dynasty Meng Xizhao had never heard of, called Daqi. The book set the background as diverging from the Tang dynasty: Li Longji failed to preserve the Tang, becoming a ruler of a fallen nation. Then followed nearly three hundred years of fragmentation, merging and splitting, which in real history is the Five Dynasties and Ten Kingdoms period. In the book, this became ten dynasties and thirty kingdoms. The fragmentation’s effects persisted: externally, Daqi was surrounded by northern, eastern, western, and southern tribes—enough to set up a mahjong table with two extra spectator seats. Internally, everyone lived for today, drinking and feasting, with a “what’s the use of tomorrow” mentality. Daqi’s people were, in short, hopeless.

With the populace living indulgently and the court decadent, the political situation was even worse: the emperor was incompetent, treacherous officials ruled, from top to bottom the situation was hopeless.

And Meng Xizhao’s father? The most notorious schemer in all of Daqi, without exception.

…

Meng Xizhao had provoked the Ningyuan household, and of course his father would not let it go. That single blow resulted in stripping Ningyuan of his title and office, reducing the young master to a commoner. What had been a minor fight instantly became an irreconcilable grudge.

The Ningyuan young master could not swallow his humiliation and sought to take revenge on Meng Xizhao. Everyone knew Meng Xizhao’s weakness: lovesickness. When he saw a beauty, he was helpless; if it was an exceptional beauty, even more so. Even if she ignored him, he had to see her.

Exploiting this flaw, the Ningyuan young master set a trap, misleading Meng Xizhao to mistake a virtuous young woman for a discreet courtesan. Gleefully, Meng Xizhao barged in—completely unaware he was about to cause a disaster.

The woman was no ordinary person. She was the future rebel leader who would overthrow the incompetent emperor and found a new dynasty, and also the elder sister of the story’s male protagonist. Meng Xizhao brought her inside, did nothing further, and was promptly dragged into the street by the furious male protagonist, where, in broad daylight, a hammer shattered his legs.

At that time, the male protagonist was still unknown; being caught would have meant death. He fled with his sister overnight into Bashu, realizing he could no longer live as a law-abiding citizen. He raised the banner of rebellion, fully turning against the regime.

What the male protagonist achieved afterward—cutting through obstacles and forging his path—was irrelevant for now. What mattered was the bigger picture: the Ningyuan young master was also being used by someone behind the scenes. The target wasn’t Meng Xizhao alone but the entire Department of Government Affairs.

Soon, the matter reached the emperor. Meng Xizhao’s past accomplishments were swept aside. The emperor, eccentric yet possessing a sense of justice, despised the strong taking what belonged to others. Together with several scheming ministers with grudges against the Meng family, he threw Meng Xizhao into the grand prison.

Of course, the Meng family didn’t accept this. His parents petitioned ceaselessly. In the end, over a hundred charges were listed against them; the entire family went to prison.

His father was sentenced to slow slicing, his brother quartered, the rest hanged. Even the household servants weren’t spared.

In the book, this scheming Meng family’s destruction was passed over in a sentence, but in reality, it meant over four hundred living deaths.

Meng Xizhao would never have guessed that in this life, he had only two roles: within the book, a stepping stone to bring down the schemer Meng, and outside the book, an accelerant pushing the male protagonist’s story along.

…

Jinzhu and the others attended quietly, watching their lord sigh again and again. All afternoon passed, and no one knew what he was sighing about. They didn’t dare interrupt; he looked serious, and speaking rashly might bring misfortune on themselves.

At dusk, someone finally entered Meng Xizhao’s courtyard.

Jinzhu and Yinliu bowed quickly: “Master.”

Hearing the noise, Meng Xizhao turned his head to see a handsome man of about forty, stroking a majestic beard as he walked toward him.

This is the most notorious schemer of the dynasty?

He was surprisingly good-looking, no wonder he had once placed in the imperial examination’s top ranks. Seeing the entire family now, all with high looks, Meng Xizhao thought, I can’t be that bad myself.

He stood and said: “Father.”

The handsome man continued stroking his beard, nodding. “Second Young Master, you’ve been wronged today.”

Meng Xizhao’s heart sank to still water.

They say he’s the greatest schemer—what did I expect?

Meng Cenzheng (Meng Xizhao’s father) was less flamboyant than Madam Meng, showing his concern for his youngest son only with his eyes. “The Zhang household has already told me everything. Don’t worry; I won’t let them off.”

Meng Xizhao: “Father, the one who hit me was the Ningyuan young master.”

Father, could you be a bit more precise?

Meng Cenzheng: “A child acting violently is the father’s fault! Such a young age, yet daring to strike—this shows how poorly Ningyuan raises his descendants. A mere distant relative, yet so arrogant. Don’t be angry, Second Young Master. Before leaving the palace, I’ve already instructed Minister Qin to handle things properly and report to His Majesty. Tomorrow, they’ll see how the Fu household fares.”

Meng Xizhao: “…………”

He had been planning to persuade his father tonight not to bully anyone to death, but his father’s hand was just too fast!

For a moment, Meng Xizhao felt a bit hopeless.

“I told you no one else should interfere with this. Why did you?”

Meng Cenzheng froze while stroking his beard. “Isn’t it good that father is helping you?”

“No! This is between me and Fu Jicai. If anyone needs to be taught a lesson, it has to be me!”

Meng Cenzheng: “You’re just a child; you won’t teach him a proper lesson.”

Indeed, unlike him—one move from his father and titles were stripped, finances cut off, hitting straight to the core.

Meng Xizhao glanced at his father, sighed in resignation, then sat down hard, throwing a tantrum. “You look down on me! You think I can’t vent for myself! You made me lose face! I won’t live! I’ll starve myself!”

Meng Cenzheng: “……”

He scolded Meng Xizhao: “What kind of behavior is this! Get up immediately!”

Meng Xizhao lay down instead. “Get up for what? I was hit, and I can’t even teach him a lesson myself. My parents have to help me, and you’ve told the emperor. Where will I put my face in the future? Father, don’t bother; just dig a hole here and bury me.”

Meng Cenzheng’s beard trembled with anger. He had never seen such ingratitude, but since it was his son, he couldn’t ignore it.

Threats and bribes failed; Meng Xizhao would not rise. If this continued, Madam Meng would surely intervene. Meng Cenzheng finally gave in: “Fine, fine, you do it yourself! I won’t interfere. Satisfied?”

In the next moment, Meng Xizhao smoothly got up, smiling obsequiously: “I knew father cares for me most. I’m hungry; let’s go eat?”

Meng Cenzheng: “…………”