Chapter 1: Passing the Flame

In the autumn of the fifth year of the Xin Dynasty's Tianfeng era (AD 18), the eighth month, within the Guanzhong region, inside the official academy hall of Changping County, the capital of Liewei Commandery.

Though it was broad daylight, the yellow wax candles in the bronze lamp-stands had been lit; their flames danced faintly upon the wicks, and wisps of pale smoke drifted through the room.

At that moment, the two officials on the dais had seemingly forgotten the day's formal business, treating the official academy as a debate forum. Pointing at the lamp and candle, they traded words back and forth, growing ever more animated.

"Junshan, earlier when we rode together in the carriage, you made a metaphor of form, spirit, candle, and flame. You said: the spirit dwells within the physical form just as a flame burns upon a candle. Once the candle is consumed, the fire cannot travel alone through the void."

"Indeed. The ash of the candle is like the aging of a person — teeth fall out, hair turns white, flesh and muscle wither. At that point, the spirit can no longer be nourished by blood and breath. When the body's breath ceases and death comes, the spirit, like the fire and candle, is utterly extinguished and vanishes completely."

"But I have one doubt. Can Junshan resolve it?"

"Please speak, Erudite."

"When a lamp burns dry, one can add oil to renew it. When a candle burns out, one can replace it with another. As long as the passing of the flame does not cease, the fire is not extinguished. Then, when a person nears death, can their spirit also exchange one body for another and continue to endure?"

Before them, ten youths sat upright and attentive, all listening in stunned bewilderment. Such profound philosophy concerning spirit and flesh, life, death, and the soul — how could young academy disciples, still inexperienced in the world, possibly understand it?

Diwu Lun understood it all perfectly.

His surname was the two-character Diwu, his given name Lun, his courtesy name Boyu. He was only seventeen, and his attire alone set him apart from the others.

The other students all wore loose, wide robes, refusing to remove their Confucian caps even as sweat soaked through their backs. Diwu Lun, however, merely tied his hair with a kerchief and wore a dark, hunting-patterned formal robe with a black ground — wonderfully cool. At this moment, his dark, shining eyes were fixed wide upon the two men on the dais, unwilling to miss a single word.

"A spirit exchanging one body for another and enduring — isn't that exactly me? Could it be that my identity as a transmigrator has been exposed!?"

As for how the transmigration actually happened, he could hardly explain it clearly. He only remembered that when the bus tumbled down the mountain, he had been listening to Teacher Wu Bai's "Last Dance" with his eyes closed.

The pain slowly faded, and the melody in his ears gradually disappeared. When he awoke with a start from a sickbed, he discovered he had become a youth named Diwu Lun, and the era he was in was...

The Xin Dynasty!

The reigning Emperor's personal name was... Wang Mang!

As a science-track student, his historical knowledge was limited. About this obscure dynasty, he knew of only two people: one was Wang Mang, the "suspected transmigrator." The other was Liu Xiu, called the "Child of the Plane" and the "Grand Magus." Beyond that, he knew nothing at all.

Fortunately, some residual memories of the body remained in his mind, allowing him to understand ancient spoken Chinese. Bit by bit, he collected and digested intelligence about this era.

After recovering from his illness, Diwu Lun took a look in a bronze mirror and discovered that, apart from being a bit short, he was actually fair-skinned and tender-fleshed. When he grinned, he could see a mouthful of white teeth — a sign of a life free from worry about food and clothing, eating hulled grain at every meal.

He was quite fortunate. The Diwu clan could not be counted among the local strongmen who dominated the villages, but they were still landlords of this county, qualifying as the lowest tier of "neighborhood gentry."

Compared to the convict-laborers hurrying along with their travel permits to report for corvée service, or the descendants of criminal officials exiled to guard posts on the frontier, Diwu Lun's starting point was immeasurably higher. His family could even afford to send him to study.

The building Diwu Lun now sat in was the Liewei Commandery Official Academy, situated beneath the southern wall of Changping County. Within its low walls stood a few rooms with grey-tiled roofs, their rammed-earth walls mixed with wheat straw and brushed with a layer of clam-shell lime on the outside. The academy hall was not large; including Diwu Lun, the ten older youths merely knelt on rush mats.

They had all passed the primary academy examinations and had been recommended as outstanding candidates by the commandery officials and Elders. They were only waiting for the Music Master from the court to make his inspection, casually ask a few questions to complete the formality, and then in the tenth month they could proceed to the Imperial Academy in the capital for advanced study, plunging headfirst into the great pit known as the Five Classics.

They had assumed it would be a mere formality. Who could have expected that the two Masters who came today would be so unconventional? In particular, the Music Master Huan Tan, the older one in his forties with somewhat thinning hair on top, dropped a remark the moment he entered the door.

"Master Liu and I began discussing a matter on the road. We had not finished by the time we arrived at the official academy, and our interest is not yet exhausted. Since the hour is still early anyway, why not let us finish our conversation first? County Magistrate, Elder, and all you students, please make yourselves comfortable!"

Then he abandoned the roomful of people and, heedless of all else, continued the earlier discussion with his colleague.

"As expected of Huan Junshan, the man who dared to declare before the Son of Heaven that there are no gods or spirits in this world. Truly an unrestrained scholar, unbound by ritual and law."

Diwu Lun heard someone beside him muttering quietly, bringing up the deeds of this unconventional Master. He had heard that Huan Tan had already served as an official in the Former Han, was broadly learned and well-versed, and had studied all the Five Classics — but only to exegete their general meaning, never composing chapter-and-verse commentaries. In his person, his clothing was simple and unadorned, lacking any dignity; he wore a coarse hemp robe and a small cap, and fanned himself with a casual fan. Were it not for the bronze seal and black silk cord at his waist, one would never guess he was an official.

In contrast, the Master conversing with him, named Liu Gong, courtesy name Erudite, was said to be a nephew of the Xin Dynasty's State Preceptor. He wore a wide-sleeved scholar's robe and a Zhangfu cap, looking perfectly proper and solemn. And yet, words like "when a person dies, can their spirit exchange bodies" came precisely from his mouth.

Then they heard Huan Tan reply: "Erudite says that when a candle burns out, one can replace it with another. In that case, who is it that replaces the candle?"

Liu Gong said: "A person, naturally."

"Indeed!"

Huan Tan clapped his hands: "If no person takes the initiative to replace it, the candle will still burn out. That being so, after a person declines and grows old, who will exchange a body for us? And how would the exchange be done?"

At this, Liu Gong was left speechless. Only after a long while did he say: "Perhaps... one can only rely on the gods..."

"Where are the gods?" Huan Tan spread his hands. "Life has growth, growth has aging, aging has death — this is like the succession of the four seasons. For Erudite to wish to alter its nature and seek a different path is truly too muddled."

Huan Tan turned his head to look at everyone. Diwu Lun did not guiltily avert his gaze but instead steadily returned Huan Junshan's look, listening intently to every word he spoke.

"A candle, if a person tends it well and turns it frequently, can burn a while longer and not be extinguished midway. It is the same with people. Rather than ponder whether one can exchange bodies after death, it is better to seek the way of nurturing one's nature, so that one may die a natural death in peace."

Huan Tan's words shattered Diwu Lun's preconceived image of this era's scholar-officials as superstitious and anti-intellectual. It was only a pity that he knew too little of the Xin Dynasty, and did not know whether Huan Tan would leave his name in the historical records, or whether this unrestrained scholar could survive the coming chaos.

In the past, as a staunch materialist, Diwu Lun would certainly have approved of Huan Tan's words with both hands. Now, he no longer dared to be so certain.

"What, then, was the reason for my transmigration? I hope it was still science."

Diwu Lun shook his head, refusing to dwell on questions he would never figure out in a lifetime. What he could do now was, as Huan Tan said, cherish this new life well. Of course, he also had to carefully avoid those troubles that might affect his future survival.

For instance, the matter at hand today!

Since their private discussion was finished, it was time to attend to official business. Huan Tan, in stark contrast to his earlier eloquence, now seemed utterly disinterested, even yawning. It fell to Liu Gong to preside. He addressed the assembly:

"Studying is no easy matter. In the first month, when farm work has not yet begun; in the eighth month, when the summer heat recedes; and in the eleventh month, when the inkstone freezes — young children and older youths must all attend primary academies. They study the Classic of Filial Piety and the Analects. In a single commandery, there may be as many as several hundred. Yet after evaluation by the commandery officials and Elders, only the ten of you seated here have proven outstanding and are eligible to be selected for the Imperial Academy!"

Everyone straightened their backs — except Diwu Lun. The evaluation had taken place at the start of autumn, before his transmigration; there was nothing for him to be proud of.

Moreover, although the original owner of this body had been well-read in the Confucian classics, education and advancement in this era did not depend on grades alone. It also involved the family, wealth, and reputation behind each individual.

If one did not believe it, one need only look around: was there a single child from a poor family here? Those who could reach this stage were either sons of hereditary officials with connections in the government, or from families that passed down Confucian classics and could provide extra tutoring from elders, or else local gentry like the Diwu clan. His grandfather had slipped the commandery quite a few benefits, and after squeezing out a clan cousin by paying extra, he had secured the slot for Diwu Lun.

Liu Gong continued: "Master Dong has said: The Imperial Academy is the nexus of worthy scholars, the root and origin of moral transformation. Yet in the time of Emperor Wu of the Former Dynasty, the Erudites' disciples at the Imperial Academy numbered no more than fifty. Under Emperors Zhao and Xuan, they increased to one hundred. Under Emperors Yuan and Cheng, they reached one thousand — still insufficient to nurture all the scholars of the realm."

He cupped his hands toward the direction of the capital: "Only since His Majesty ascended the throne and confirmed his legitimacy, placing great emphasis on moral transformation, has he built ten thousand chambers south of the city, increasing the Imperial Academy disciples to ten thousand!"

Wang Mang himself was of Confucian scholar origins, and after becoming Emperor, he placed great importance on education. The scale of this enrollment expansion could be said to be quite enormous.

Liu Gong continued: "By flourishing the Imperial Academy, establishing enlightened teachers, and examining and questioning to fully develop their talents, outstanding talents may surely be obtained. After you students enter the Imperial Academy, you must also reverently remember His Majesty's instructions and study the Five Classics. At the Imperial Academy, there is an examination each year. By archery-token examination in the annual curriculum, forty in the First Division become Gentlemen of the Palace; twenty in the Second Division become Crown Prince Attendants; forty in the Third Division fill posts as Literary Officials."

"The great Confucian Xiahou Sheng of the Former Dynasty once said: The scholar's failing lies in not understanding the classics. If one can master the classics, obtaining the blue and purple seal-cords is as simple as bending down to pick up a blade of grass from the ground. Students, strive for this."

This speech stirred great excitement among the crowd. That excellence in learning leads to official service was a principle of heaven and earth. The disciples present and the families behind them had each displayed their abilities to compete for these slots precisely so that their sons could have a good path to official advancement — this concerned the future of an entire clan.

Next came the two Masters casually selecting people to rise and answer questions. It was all a formality; only the truly hopeless would be eliminated in this round. Liu Gong knew that if that fellow Huan Tan were to ask the questions, he would surely pose obscure and eccentric points of learning to make things difficult. So he simply took the task upon himself, letting Huan Tan relax.

Yet even the simplest questions, Diwu Lun could not answer.

After transmigrating, he had not only developed narcolepsy, needing to sleep five or six double-hours a day, but his memory was also severely fragmented. At most, he could recognize all his relatives. As for the Classic of Filial Piety, the Analects, and the even more complex chapter-and-verse exegesis he had studied, he had long forgotten them completely.

Being called upon by the teacher and unable to utter a single word was undoubtedly mortifying. There was only one solution...

As long as I give up fast enough, the embarrassment can't catch up to me!

When it was Diwu Lun's turn, he did not wait for Liu Gong to ask questions. Instead, he first gave a deep bow to the two men.

"This junior student Diwu Lun pays his respects to the two Learned Men. I have a request, and I hope the Learned Men will grant it."

Huan Tan raised his eyes, and Liu Gong also looked at Diwu Lun, only to hear this youth with a fine countenance say solemnly: "I wish to give up my Imperial Academy place!"

This Academy, I'm not attending!

"Huh?"

The others in the official school were stunned and all turned to look at Diwu Lun. Huan Tan pointed his informal fan at Diwu Lun and said, "Youngster, are you afraid you can't answer Learned Man Liu's questions, so you're backing down?"

Why blurt out the honest truth? Diwu Lun felt a little flustered inside, but on his face he only gave a faint smile. Others merely thought him mature beyond his years, utterly unruffled by Huan Tan's "jest."

Naturally, someone stepped in to smooth things over for Diwu Lun. The Magistrate of Changping County, who had old ties with the Diwu clan, came forward and said, "I venture to inform the Learned Man of Music, this youth is bright and fond of learning, knows several thousand characters, and scored top marks in the Classic of Filial Piety and the Analects. He is much praised in his home village."

Huan Tan looked at Diwu Lun's attire: "Everyone else wears high caps and Confucian robes; you alone, young man, are dressed in a close-fitting casual outfit. Is it to save cloth for the weavers? Surely it can't be that your family is too poor for you to go to the capital?"

This was of course said in jest. Years of full-time study, plus having to go to the capital where prices were exorbitant — ordinary people simply could not afford it. But how could anyone sitting here come from a mere middling household?

Diwu Lun, neither servile nor overbearing, replied: "Does not the Learned Man of Music also wear coarse hemp robes and a small cap, yet finds my attire improper? Is this a case of the learned man being allowed to start fires, while the commoner may not even light a lamp?"

This remark succeeded in making Huan Tan laugh. Well summed up — is that not exactly how the world works?

"Junshan!"

Liu Gong reined in Huan Tan's lack of decorum and asked Diwu Lun with a frown: "Young man, gaining entry to the Imperial Academy is no easy feat. Countless people beg for it and cannot get it. Why are you unwilling to go?"

Diwu Lun had been waiting for this question. He cupped his hands and said: "It is not that I am unwilling. It is just that every year over a thousand students enter the Imperial Academy, with each commandery sending anywhere from a few to several dozen. Liewei Commandery has neither more nor less — exactly ten, one place allotted to each county."

"In the Changping County official school, I placed first with top marks, and the one who placed second is none other than my clansman, Diba Jiao. He and I have been close since childhood, and we have always been on good terms."

Both Huan Tan and Liu Gong were widely learned men, so they were not surprised that someone surnamed Diba and someone surnamed Diwu were kin. It was simply because they had originally been one family. Two hundred years ago, they had all been surnamed Tian, descendants of Tian Guang, the King of Qi during the Chu–Han contention.

After the Han dynasty was established, in order to strengthen the trunk and weaken the branches, Liu Bang relocated the various Tian clans from the Qi region to live in the mausoleum towns. Based on the order of relocation, eight surnames were produced, from Diyi through Diba. Yet they still held ancestral rites together and did not intermarry.

However, aside from this detail, Diwu Lun was lying through his teeth. He and Diba Jiao were mere nodding acquaintances, not friends at all.

"My clan elder brother is older than me, diligent and devoted to study. Through winter and summer, he has never missed a day. His learning has always been outstanding. It was only because he fell ill during the examination that he performed below his usual standard and had to settle for second place. It is truly a pity."

Diwu Lun's face was full of shame: "As his friend, to seize first place while he was ill — that is unrighteous. As his junior clansman, to squeeze out my elder brother's place — that is unfraternal. How can an unrighteous and unfraternal person enter the Imperial Academy to study the books of the sages? Furthermore, my understanding of the Classic of Filial Piety and the Analects is only superficial. I wish to study for another year to refine my learning, and yield this year's place to my clan elder brother!"

Such a thing had truly never been encountered before. Liu Gong turned his head to look at Huan Tan, wanting to discuss it. But Huan Tan was utterly casual, and with a wave of his fan said, "If he doesn't want to go, then he doesn't go. Since his aspirations do not lie here, why force him?"

Perhaps it was because, while Huan Tan was up there waving his informal fan and yawning, he had also noticed that amid the solemnity filling the room, Diwu Lun alone was unimpressed when Liu Gong spoke at length about official advancement through the Imperial Academy. Huan Tan most enjoyed tearing down those vulgar Confucians who mouthed benevolence and morality but whose hearts were set solely on official rank and salary — and for this he was often ostracized at court. After all this time, he was still only a Lesser Learned Man. Diwu Lun's character rather suited his taste.

Diwu Lun indeed did not take studying to become an official seriously. He couldn't help it — these so-called Five Classics or Six Classics were simply too tedious. He had inquired about it: unless one was exceptionally gifted, the time cost of studying the Five Classics was shockingly high. Since the Former Han, there had been those who entered the Imperial Academy at fifteen or sixteen to study the Five Classics, and by the time their hair had gone completely white, they still only mastered a single classic.

"Grow white-haired poring over the classics" — is that an empty saying?

Moreover, the Imperial Academy had expanded enrollment, but the number of job posts had not. Every year a thousand students entered, but only a hundred could pass the examination to become officials — one in ten, and the competition was only growing fiercer. It seemed that no matter the era, examinations were always a case of a vast army crossing a single-plank bridge.

Diwu Lun had no desire to bury himself headfirst in a pile of bamboo strips and waste his time. Rather than study those old texts, he would do better to stay at home and continue advancing his own plan — how to protect himself in the coming chaotic times.

When he walked out of the official school, the oppressive heat outside had already faded, and the cool autumn breeze was very pleasant.

Regarding the day's events, the County Magistrate responsible for selecting the candidates was somewhat embarrassed. The other nine students murmured in low voices about Diwu Lun's "lone path," while the clerks and guards outside watched him and laughed, thinking this kid was simply too foolish.

Diwu Lun, however, had his own calculations: "Never mind that entering the Imperial Academy doesn't guarantee an official post. Even if I poured my heart's blood into years of bitter study and managed to land a powerless position like Court Gentleman or Academician of Literature, what then? Would I have a single soldier under my command?"

"If I remember correctly, Wang Mang's Xin is a short-lived dynasty. Judging by the current situation, its collapse is probably not far off. To rush now to become an official of the Xin Dynasty..."

"Isn't that like joining the Nationalists in '49!"

PS: New author, new book — begging for recommendation votes, everyone! The cover is AI-generated and will be replaced later.

I don't mind revealing the outline — it's just one line: True Transmigrator vs. Child of the Plane!