Chapter One: The Story Begins with the Loss of a Father

Daxia Dynasty, Jiangnan Commandery, Yue Prefecture, the Qin family.

In the main hall draped with white mourning veils, a young man gazed up at the black coffin before him, paper money swirling in the air. Lowering his eyes, he saw himself dressed in mourning garb, kneeling on a rush mat. Glancing around, he noticed that all the unfamiliar faces nearby were clad in similar attire.

"Where am I?"
"Who has died?"
"It hurts so much!"

Before the youth could make sense of his confusion, a torrent of memories not his own surged into his mind, splitting his head with agony. Within seconds, he collapsed to the floor in a dead faint.

"Song!"
"Young master!"

As he fell, chaos erupted throughout the hall…

Late at night, Qin Song awoke, lying motionless on his bed, lost in thought.

Qin Song had transmigrated. A double PhD in philosophy and engineering, he had fallen asleep in a laboratory, only to awaken here, in a dynasty he had never heard of.

After merging with the memories of his predecessor, Qin Song understood his new identity. He was Qin Song, and the good news was that he was the privileged son of both a wealthy merchant and a high-ranking official. His family was the richest in Yue Prefecture, their fortune built on the textile trade; their silks were tribute to the imperial court. His uncle was the current Left Chancellor, beloved by the people.

The bad news: all this belonged to the past.

A month prior, his uncle had been dismissed from office by the emperor and thrown into prison. When the news reached home, his father sailed north to the capital, escorting this year’s tribute silk for the emperor. But their merchant ship was attacked by river bandits along the way; his father was murdered, his body lost to the waters, and most of the tribute silk plundered.

While his father journeyed north, his predecessor had gotten into a street brawl and was struck on the head, turning into a fool who muddled along until Qin Song’s arrival in this world.

On the night news reached the Qin family, a fire broke out in their workshop and warehouse. Nearly all the finished textiles and silk orders were destroyed. After this series of calamities, the Qin family’s standing in Yue Prefecture plummeted overnight.

During the days of mourning, hardly anyone came to pay their respects—only a few sneaked in deep into the night. Everyone believed the Qin family was finished, their downfall only a matter of time.

If the tribute silk failed to reach the capital and the emperor’s wrath was kindled, the entire Qin clan would be executed to the last man!

“I’ve just arrived in this world, only to die immediately?”

“No, if the story were to end like this, why would fate bring me here?”

“It isn’t over yet—there must be a chance!”

Resolute after sorting through his new memories, Qin Song refused to resign himself to such an end.

As he racked his brain for a solution, the door creaked open and a woman in mourning attire entered his view.

“Mother!”

Qin Song blurted out instinctively when he saw her.

It was Madam Wu, Qin Song’s mother and the sole wife of the late Qin Yuanhuai.

“Song, you’re awake?” she asked, her face gaunt, eyes bloodshot, tears streaming anew at the sight of her son.

“Mother!” Understanding her grief, Qin Song’s own heart ached.

“With me here, you’ll be safe,” Madam Wu forced a weak smile, trying to soothe him. “After your father’s burial tomorrow, once our affairs are in order, I’ll take you back to my family.”

Her family lived far away in Chuanshu Commandery, also in the textile business. The day Qin Yuanhuai set sail north, he had sent word to her family to send men to help.

“Mother, I won’t go!” Qin Song instinctively protested. “If I leave, there will be no Qin family left in Yue Prefecture!”

“And Uncle is still in the capital—we must find a way to save him!”

Though somewhat naive, Qin Song was determined not to flee.

“Song, you… you’re better?” his mother stammered, staring in disbelief.

The former master of this body was notorious as a wastrel in Yue Prefecture, frequenting brothels and pleasure houses.

“Mother, now that Father is gone, if I don’t grow up, the Qin family is truly finished!” Qin Song said earnestly. “Besides, even if we run to the ends of the earth, if we cannot resolve the matter of the tribute silk, the emperor will not spare us!”

Though these were the words he spoke, Qin Song’s thoughts ran deeper. After piecing the events together, he realized that the tragedies befalling the Qin family could not be mere coincidence; someone must be orchestrating from the shadows. The fire in the workshop and warehouse days ago was certainly no accident.

All of this awaited investigation.

“What should we do?” After these relentless blows, Madam Wu was at a loss, placing all her hope in her son.

“I have some ideas…” Qin Song sighed. “But for now, the urgent task is to lay Father to rest.”

At the mention of Qin Yuanhuai, silence fell. Madam Wu’s eyes reddened, tears flowing uncontrollably…

The next morning was the day of Qin Yuanhuai’s funeral.

The sky was gloomy and oppressive. The household’s dozens of servants had made their preparations. Dressed in mourning, Qin Song supported his mother, gazing at the black coffin before them.

“Rest in peace,” he thought. “Since I have come to this world, I will uncover the truth and avenge you!”

Turning away, just as he was about to speak, he noticed a group of people approaching.

Leading them was a man in a red official’s robe, a sneer of disdain on his face. Behind him trailed over a dozen well-dressed individuals, all clearly people of wealth or rank.

“Lin You!”

Qin Song quickly recognized the man.

Lin You, Prefect of Yue Prefecture, ranked fifth in the Daxia bureaucracy.

He owed his post to Qin Song’s uncle, the former Left Chancellor. Yet, throughout the Qin family’s tribulations, Lin You had not shown his face once. Now, on the very day of the funeral, he had come—and by the look on his face, his intentions were hardly righteous.

Among those following Lin You was also a strikingly beautiful woman with a cool, distant demeanor.

Lin Wanqing, Lin You’s daughter, who was apparently betrothed to Qin Song.

It was because of this woman, in fact, that the body’s previous owner had gotten into the street altercation that left him brain-damaged.

“Could they be here to break off the engagement?” Qin Song wondered.

As he pondered, Lin You and his entourage drew near. Lin You’s gaze settled on Madam Wu. “Madam Qin.”

“Lin You,” replied Madam Wu, her eyes glinting coldly—she, too, guessed he had not come with good intentions.

“I was deeply grieved to hear of your family’s misfortune,” Lin You intoned. “Alas, official duties kept me from paying my respects to Brother Qin until today.”

Though his words were smooth, his eyes betrayed no sorrow—in fact, as he glimpsed the coffin, a hint of satisfaction and chill flickered in them.

“Lin You, today is my husband’s funeral. If you have come sincerely to pay your respects, the Qin family welcomes you. But if you are here to cause trouble, don’t blame me for being unkind!” Madam Wu warned.

Lin You’s eyes filled with scorn and mockery. He replied, “Brother Qin’s untimely death grieves me as well. Yet the Qin family’s business must continue. As the local magistrate, I am responsible for the people’s welfare. May I ask: have you fulfilled all this month’s orders for your clients?”

At these words, Madam Wu’s face changed. She finally realized who the people behind Lin You were: the clients awaiting their orders.

But with the workshop and warehouse destroyed, nearly all the textiles and silk meant for delivery had been lost. The Qin family was in no position to fulfill their obligations.

This traitorous wolf Lin You had not come to mourn her husband, but to kick the Qin family while they were down—to stab them in the back.

Fury blazed in Madam Wu’s eyes; she wished she could tear this traitor limb from limb.