Chapter 1: I'm Still a Child!

"My head hurts so much." Lying on the bed, Fang Chongyong slowly came to, thatch poking his back, his mind filled with many jumbled memories that made him feel as though a lifetime had passed.

Those vague memories told him that this was the prefectural seat of Kuizhou in the Tang dynasty, right on the banks of the Yangtze River!

In his previous life, after eating skewers with friends, he had drunk too much and, walking along a river on the way back, accidentally fallen into the water.

He had thought he would drown in the lake, but to his surprise, he woke up in this unfamiliar place, lying in bed.

His body was clearly that of a youth, perhaps seven or eight years old, perhaps six or seven—who could say.

The entire room was dim and narrow, without even a window. The roof appeared to be covered with just a single layer of oiled tiles. It was now midday, and sunlight filtered through the gaps in the oiled tiles, leaving mottled marks on his face.

Fang Chongyong did not want to think about whether this place would leak when it rained...

All in all, the feeling of still being alive was truly wonderful.

"Young master, you've finally woken up!"

A thin boy beside the bed called out excitedly, his cracking pubescent voice clearly not that of a girl.

"What year is it now?"

Fang Chongyong took the earthenware bowl handed to him and gulped down a mouthful of water. He was truly parched, feeling as though every part of his body was crying out for the nourishment of sweet, clean water.

"Pfft!"

Before the boy could answer, a muddy stench that shot straight to his skull made him spit the water right out, spraying the boy beside him full in the face!

"Why does this water taste so... strange?"

Fang Chongyong couldn't help but reproach the other as he asked.

"Strange?"

The boy actually took the earthenware bowl back and drank a mouthful. His knife-sharp eyebrows rose, and he looked at Fang Chongyong with a baffled expression, saying, "Not strange at all, same taste as always!".

Fang Chongyong felt that the other's mind seemed abnormal, to the point that effective communication was impossible. He waved his hand gently, got out of bed, and stood up.

After walking a circle around the nearly bare room, Fang Chongyong asked the boy in puzzlement, "Where is my father?"

"Ah! I just remembered, the master left two letters for the young master, instructing you to take an official boat and depart for Chang'an as soon as possible."

The boy pulled two letters from his chest and specifically emphasized, "The one with nothing written on the envelope, the young master may read. The other one with writing on it is to be delivered to the Secretariat. The master specifically instructed this before he left."

Feeling as though he had heard some extraordinary information, Fang Chongyong asked in puzzlement, "Which Secretariat?"

"Zhang Jiuling, Lord Zhang."

The boy casually dropped the information that made Fang Chongyong's mind explode.

Fang Chongyong: "..."

If even Zhang Jiuling was here, then this Kaiyuan era was genuine.

He grumbled inwardly, heaven above—with his small frame, could he really get caught up in such a stormy maelstrom?

Fang Chongyong was speechless and choked up—he was just a child right now!

"Do you know what kind of official position the Secretariat is?"

Fang Chongyong had to carefully ask about the details involved; he didn't even have time to read the letters.

"Overseeing the Secretariat, the head of the entire department, holding high position and heavy authority."

The boy beside the bed said nonchalantly, very casually.

Fang Chongyong was deeply puzzled. Given the other's age and the fact that he was a household servant, how could he possibly know so much information?

Especially that slouching, careless tone—how could he be so flippant?

Fang Chongyong studied the other intently. This boy was full of mysteries, giving rise to all sorts of guesses in his mind.

Fang Chongyong opened the letter his father had left behind. On coarse paper, he saw characters written with vigorous strokes that penetrated through to the back:

"Three great regrets of my life:

First, I regret that the court officials hold their posts without doing their duty, leaving my world-shaping talents with no avenue for display.

Second, I regret that my worthy wife died young, leaving me lonely and adrift for half my life.

Third, I regret that my unworthy son is as stupid as pig and dog, beyond any carving.

Bitter! Bitter! Bitter!

Hatred! Hatred! Hatred!

Better to take my leave. Unworthy son, do not think of me."

The letter ended here. A vein bulged on Fang Chongyong's forehead as he slammed the letter onto the desk with a fierce slap! The pain in his palm made him want to cry!

There were so many things to criticize that he didn't even know where to begin.

What kind of trash father was this! Just abandoning his son like that?

What about respecting the elderly and caring for the young? Wasn't there a saying about how "a man who pities his children cannot fail to be a true man"?

If you're going to dump your son, you could at least dump him in Chang'an! Dumping him in this godforsaken place called Kuizhou, over a thousand miles from Chang'an—how was a half-grown child supposed to get to Chang'an?

Anger flaring in his heart, Fang Chongyong directly tore open the letter that was "not to be opened"!

"Young master, you mustn't!"

The boy beside him cried out in alarm, but it was too late to stop Fang Chongyong.

"Hmph, I have my own plans, you... that's right, what is your name?"

Fang Chongyong only then realized that he seemed to have never asked the other's name.

"This slave is called Fang Laique, the 'come' from coming and going, the 'magpie' from magpie."

Fang Laique answered in a somewhat aggrieved low voice—his own young master actually didn't even remember him, the only household-born servant.

Fang Chongyong had no time to attend to Fang Laique's little hurt feelings right now, because he was already shocked by the contents of this "secret letter"!

This was a soul-stirring... whistleblower's letter.

In the letter, Fang Chongyong's father, Fang Youde, reported a major matter to his "true" superior, namely Zhang Jiuling.

According to Fang Youde's investigation, the Military Commissioner of Jiannan, Wang Yu, had accepted bribes from the king of Nanzhao, causing the Tang army at the southern border garrisons in Shu to hold its troops still and stand by as Nanzhao swallowed up the other five Zhao, severely damaging the interests of the Tang court.

And the Deputy Military Governor and Training Commander of Jian Nan, Zhang Choujian Qiong, used this chance to incite the border garrison troops to revolt and also petitioned the Left Prime Minister Li Linfu for favors, such as military funding support.

To back Zhang Choujian Qiong without being restrained by the court officials, Li Linfu ordered his associate, the Kui Zhou Prefect Zheng Shuqing, to divert the huge customs revenue from the Yangtze in Kui Zhou, and after sending men by water into the river, secretly handed it over to the border troops under Zhang Choujian Qiong.

Wang Yu, a mere scholar ignorant of military affairs, was completely unaware of this.

Subsequently, the Tang army, having received rewards, struck out and clashed with the Nanzhao army at the border town, crushing the main force of Nanzhao.

Then the Tang army burned, killed, and looted locally, committing countless crimes.

Fang Youde thought that, using this chance, Li Linfu might brew a case against Wang Yu in the court, promote Zhang Choujian Qiong to full Military Governor of Jian Nan, and plant his own men throughout the Jian Nan border troops.

This is a perfect opportunity; a little maneuvering could eliminate Wang Yu, Zhang Choujian Qiong, Zheng Shuqing, Li Linfu and their cohorts in one stroke! Ask Zhang Jiuling to act swiftly, lest things change later.

Obviously, Zhang Jiuling is Li Linfu's political rival; using internal methods to kill enemies is basic practice.

The room was dim; Fang Chongyong expressionlessly placed each letter onto the oil lamp to burn, paying no heed to Fang Laique, whose mouth gaped as he tried to shout but could not.

"Lord, the letter is burned; we can't return to Chang'an now!"

Fang Laique's voice trembled, unsure how to persuade Fang Chongyong.

"Burn this letter, and we'll survive. Trust me, don't let this get out."

Fang Chongyong looked at the still‑youthful Fang Laique with a solemn face.

The two half‑grown 'children' faced such a grave matter: one forced composure, the other was terrified into silence.

Li Linfu, Wang Yu, Zhang Choujian Qiong, Zheng Shuqing… each a big shot. Even the lowest‑ranked among them, the Kui Zhou Prefect Zheng Shuqing, crushing Fang Chongyong would be like crushing an ant.

Fang Chongyong's rotten father, Fang Youde, how could he have the nerve to take on so many big shots alone?

Does Fang Youde think a half‑grown child won't be searched, so he can slip past unnoticed and travel a thousand miles to Chang'an to deliver a 'report letter'?

What kind of brain, IQ, EQ does this person have!

Fang Chongyong cursed his rotten father from head to toe in his mind; being paired with such a fool, his days in this life will surely be miserable.

"Zheng Shuqing, what kind of person is Zheng Shuqing?"

Fang Chongyong paced back and forth in the room, muttering to himself as if alone.

Zhang Jiuling, Li Linfu, Zhang Choujian Qiong— all so distant that they can't affect us. Only the Kui Zhou Prefect Zheng Shuqing, likely in Kui Zhou city right now, could have a child‑servant dealt with in minutes!

The saying 'a county official is no match for a current governor' fits this moment perfectly.

Fang Chongyong was puzzled; his father Fang Youde didn't even know his official rank, so how could the Kui Zhou Prefect Zheng Shuqing not have heard any rumor about this investigation?

Wouldn't the other side take any precautions?

"Zheng Shuqing defected to Li Linfu as a lackey. Earlier he was the Prefect of Kui Zhou; at the end of the Tianbao era he served as Censor‑in‑Chief, overseeing the treasury and selling offices and titles. He knows no loyalty or righteousness, cares only for profit, and is no better than a pig or dog."

Fang Laique's calm, emotionless duck‑like voice rang in Fang Chongyong's ears!

He recoiled as if he'd seen a five‑meter‑long giant python writhing before him, stumbling back several steps, then sitting hard on the bedside, eyes wide with terror as he stared at Fang Laique.

Someone from the Kaiyuan era actually knows about events from the Tianbao era! Is there anything more absurd in the world?

"You— you! Who are you, divine being?"

Fang Chongyong, terrified, pointed at Fang Laique and asked.

"Lord, I am Laique! I was born into the Fang family; my father followed the lord (Fang Youde) and took the Fang surname. I have been with you since childhood, born with the Fang name."

Fang Laique scratched his head, speaking innocently. He always felt that his 'young master' seemed a different person ever since waking up from drowning.

"What did you just say?"

Fang Chongyong, slightly steadied, grabbed Fang Laique's arm and asked in a low voice.

"Did I just speak?"

Fang Laique stared at Fang Chongyong bewildered, seeming to have no idea what just occurred.

His dumbfounded expression didn't seem feigned; if it were acting, it could only be a reincarnated screen legend, flawless.

"Who is Zheng Shuqing?"

Fang Chongyong kept asking, feeling a little relieved.

"The lord once told me, he's the Prefect of Kui Zhou, the biggest local official. I don't know anything else."

Fang Laique still didn't understand what Fang Chongyong was asking.

He found it odd; Zheng Shuqing's identity, Fang Chongyong wasn't unaware. They now lived in an official residence, only families of local officials in Kui Zhou could stay there. Fang Youde not only dealt with Zheng Shuqing but also had a very bad relationship, as hostile as water and fire.

"Anything else?"

Fang Chongyong stared intently at Fang Laique, his eyes bulging.

"That's all."

Fang Laique spread his hands, not knowing what to say.

"Never mind."

Fang Chongyong waved his hand; this child, raised together since childhood, doesn't seem like a liar, but what on earth is happening?

The only certainty is that it definitely wasn't an auditory hallucination!

Goo goo goo… at the critical moment, Fang Chongyong's stomach rumbled.

"Anything to eat? I'm hungry."

Fang Chongyong plopped onto a high stool, his body sagging onto the table. This child's body was very frail, and it was unclear what he usually ate.

"Yes, yes, yes, I've made a meal."

Fang Laique waddled out of the room, quickly returned with a bowl of fish soup containing three slender white fish, a bowl resembling kimchi, and a bowl of rice mixed with shredded leaves and unknown grains, presumably the staple.

Fang Laique's face practically shouted "Praise me", and Fang Chongyong, hopeful, scooped a piece of fish into his mouth, his expression shifting slightly.

The fish meat was bland and fishy, the smell hitting his nose, leaving him stunned for a moment.

Heaven's pity, this twice‑born man had never tasted such terrible fish!

Such a fishy fish could only be fed to cats— even cats refuse it!

"This…"

Seeing Fang Laique's expectant expression, Fang Chongyong swallowed his curses, then used chopsticks to pick up a clump of rice and put it in his mouth.

A fresh, plain earthy smell filled his mouth and lingered for a long time. The coarse, gritty texture was indescribable, like chewing sand and leaving him breathless.

He forced himself to swallow, as if a saw were repeatedly pulling at his throat; wherever the food went, the pain was unbearable… The taste of this mysterious staple could only be called awe‑inspiring to gods and spirits.

"The rice is not bad; next time don't make it, I'll do it instead."

Fang Chongyong sighed helplessly.

He no longer had any expectation for the rice this boy made.

"Alang says, a master is a master, a servant is a servant; there is no reason for a master to serve a servant, so how can the young master cook for himself?"

Fang Laique spoke righteously, his youthful face bearing resolve, making Fang Chongyong want to punch him.

We've already eaten; let's at least try that pickled vegetable to see what it tastes like.

Fang Chongyong, no longer holding any expectation, put a nameless shredded vegetable leaf into his mouth.

Tangy and refreshing, with a hint of sweetness and a touch of salt, it instantly dispelled the earthy taste in his mouth!

"This dish is good! Really good!"

Fang Chongyong couldn't help but praise.

"Oh."

Fang Laique forced a reply, his smile collapsing, his face turning sour as he fell silent.

"What are you doing?"

Fang Chongyong asked in confusion. Being praised yet wearing a sour face—did he enjoy being tormented?

"This pickled vegetable was made by Feng Xian Lou in Kui Zhou city; I went to get it from them."

Fang Laique, deeply shaken, said weakly.

You can still buy on credit!

Fang Chongyong was greatly startled.

No one's money is just thrown around; this servant of Fang Laique went to city taverns to demand pickled vegetables, and unless someone's mind is locked by a door, who would extend credit to him!

"You're just a young child; who would listen to you?"

Fang Chongyong took another bite of the pickled vegetable and casually asked; he was too lazy to even move a chopstick for the other two items.

"I don't know either, but after Alang left, I went to various taverns in Kui Zhou city; as long as I claim Alang's Censor identity, it seems I can take things without paying."

Fang Laique sighed as if nothing mattered.

My father's emotional intelligence is so low; how could he be a Censor that people fear like a ghost?

Fang Chongyong couldn't quite understand how his "trash dad" managed to climb up.

Did he become a noble's lapdog directly, or did he first pass the imperial exams and then become a noble's lapdog?

Fang Chongyong fell into deep contemplation.

But from their current situation, it's clear that his father Fang Youde's condition isn't looking good either.

After a few bites of the pickled vegetable, Fang Chongyong lay on the bed, feeling the cold, hard, dried straw behind him, his mind calculating how to proceed on the vague road ahead so as not to be swallowed by this era.

As for Chang'an, don't overthink it; in a dozen years it'll all be An Lushan's domain, so Kui Zhou is safer.

When the sky gradually darkened, a sudden roar of gongs and drums erupted outside the house!

Bang!

A flimsy door was kicked open, and the courtyard of the official residence was already packed with people, bright torches everywhere. A few black‑clad minor officials, brandishing burning torches, rushed into the room in a flash.

Behind them followed a middle‑aged official in a crimson official robe, wearing a headpiece, black‑leather six‑section boots, a fish‑bag at his waist, squinting maliciously as he surveyed the surroundings.

He ignored Fang Chongyong and the others.

"Search, we must find the incriminating evidence!"

The crimson‑robed official let out an angry shout, treating Fang Chongyong and Fang Laique as invisible. The minor officials rummaged through the room, eventually finding on the desk the letter "Three Great Hates" written by Fang Youde. Apart from that, they couldn't find a single hair.

That denunciation letter that could cost a life had long turned to ash; even immortals could no longer recognize it.

After searching for half an hour with no results, the crowd stared at the crimson‑robed official, awaiting his next order.

"Fang Youde, as a Censor, colluded with bandits to steal the Kui Zhou river‑gate tax revenue! Now he flees in fear of his crime!"

"Arrest them, bring the criminal's family back to the prison, and interrogate them slowly!"

The crimson‑robed official never once looked at Fang Chongyong, speaking to himself the whole time, as if performing for an audience.

Fang Chongyong just watched the other man call a deer a horse, remaining silent himself.

Speaking more is useless; before this Inspector finally reveals his hidden dagger, it's better to keep quiet.