3. This High-Stakes Match

Ouyang Rong lay on his bed, eyes closed, his thoughts drifting back to that graduate school entrance exam study group with the remarkably earnest name.

In truth, when the group was first established, it was indeed for the purpose of studying. But as everyone knows, a study group eventually ends up discussing everything except studying.

At first, someone mentioned a game during a break—at the time, no one realized the severity of the problem—and naturally, the conversation shifted to playing together... and just like that, it became a gaming group. But that was only the beginning.

I don’t recall which day it was that a new member joined, sporting an avatar of a mocking, feather-fan-wielding face. Sure enough, he was one of those armchair strategists who acted like he knew everything, and soon, the group entered its "political debate" phase.

Later on, as the "group version" updated, the administrators stopped posting study materials altogether, opting instead to share mysterious links, audio, and images that left members physically drained and severely malnourished. And so, on a dark and windy night, they silently added a note to the group name, which finally became: "University So-and-So Upright Gentlemen's Exam Study Group (No Girls Allowed)."

"Great, now I’ve actually become an upright gentleman," Ouyang Rong sighed lamentably.

Two days ago, after crawling out of the underground palace, he had fainted outside the Bietian Temple and was brought back to the Sanhui Institute by the little monk with the flowing hair to recuperate. He had drifted between consciousness and delirium, remaining bedridden intermittently for two days.

He had finally managed to digest most of the "warring" memories in his mind.

Regarding his original self, there was good news and bad news.

The good news: The original self was an upright gentleman.

The bad news: The original self was an upright gentleman!

It might sound a bit convoluted.

The original owner of this body also shared the surname Ouyang, given name Rong, and the courtesy name Lianghan.

Orphaned at four and physically frail, he was raised by his mother, a member of the Zhao clan, who remained a widow to nurture him. She hoped he would become a dragon among men, and Ouyang Lianghan did not disappoint. He was benevolent and filial, renowned in his hometown, and diligent in his studies, eventually entering the Bailudong Academy as the top scorer in the county exams.

In the first year of the Jiushi era of the Wei-Zhou dynasty, he passed the imperial examinations at the age of eighteen, his name resonating throughout the Jiangnan Circuit. He was the youngest southern scholar to pass the exams since the founding of the Li-Qian dynasty and the Wei-Zhou.

Why mention "Wei-Zhou" after mentioning "Li-Qian"?

Because the world was originally conquered by the Taizong Emperor of the Li clan eighty years ago, with the state name "Qian." However, after the passing of the third emperor of the Great Qian, the Empress Dowager Wei seized power, deposed two of her own sons, ascended the throne herself, abolished the Qian dynasty, changed the state name to "Zhou," and moved the capital from Chang'an to Luoyang—renaming it "Shen-du." The Wei-Zhou dynasty had now been in power for eight years.

Currently, the Wei-Zhou court was rife with undercurrents. Many old officials of the Li-Qian dynasty remained loyal to the Great Qian, and as the Empress Dowager grew old, the struggle for succession between the Li and Wei clans was entering its final stages. Ouyang Rong now understood why the little monk with the flowing hair had corrected himself when mentioning the previous dynasty.

However, as he digested these memories, he found them strangely familiar. Yet, upon closer inspection, he realized this dynasty was quite different from the Tang and Wu-Zhou dynasties he knew from his previous life. It wasn't just the key figures that didn't match up; the most significant difference was that this world seemed to possess a niche group known as "Qi Practitioners," who had existed since the pre-Qin era and had been involved in the history of the last millennium.

He had heard that the current Zhou court and military employed Qi Practitioners, seemingly following systems related to the Yin-Yang and Legalist schools. Ouyang Rong was stunned to learn that the most deeply integrated and powerful factions of Qi Practitioners were the three major sects: Confucianism, Buddhism, and Taoism, known as the "Three Manifest Sects." There were rumors of others living in seclusion in the mountains or overseas, but they rarely intervened in worldly affairs.

Back to the original self.

As the youngest successful candidate in the first year of Jiushi, and possessing a handsome appearance, he was chosen as the "Tan-hua Lang" (the third-place scholar) at the Apricot Garden Banquet in Shen-du, making him one of the most prominent figures among his peers. He was truly riding high.

Countless wealthy families wanted to marry their daughters to him, but the original self was an "upright gentleman." During his time in Shen-du for the exams, he hadn't even stepped foot in a brothel, earning him the reputation among the literati as someone who "shuns the company of women."

If that were all, Ouyang Lianghan would have been nothing more than a pretty face among the Shen-du elite. What truly made him famous throughout the world was his tendency to... actually stand up for what he believed in.

At the Apricot Garden Banquet, our newly minted scholar, after a few cups of wine, flushed with excitement, dared to submit a memorial directly to the court, advising the Wei Empress not to start wars on the borders and to let the people recover.

Whether it was sheer luck or the help of a powerful patron, the Empress, upon hearing his name, was not angered but delighted. She smiled and recited, "The Zhou state rejoices, for the state has found a pillar of virtue."

This was a line from the *Classic of Poetry*, and also the source of the courtesy name given to him by his teacher at Bailudong Academy. It meant: The people of the Zhou state rejoice, for the nation has found a steady pillar.

Unexpectedly, he had turned danger into an opportunity at the banquet. The Empress praised him as the "Jewel of the Southeast" and appointed him as a corrector in the Lintai. The last person to receive such an honor was the current Prime Minister, Di, who had been praised by the Empress as "The only one of his kind."

Yet, before Ouyang Lianghan could even take his post, a family letter arrived: his mother had passed away. Without hesitation, he resigned to return home and observe the mourning period. During this time, his grief was profound, and he was hailed as the most rigorous official in mourning for the past eighty years of the dynasty.

His reputation for filial piety grew immensely, his deeds spreading far and wide. The court even broke protocol to posthumously honor his mother and erected an archway to commemorate her.

Under normal circumstances, his return to the capital should have been a smooth path to glory. But the title of a "nationally certified upright gentleman" is not easily earned.

After his mourning period ended, he returned to the capital and, immediately upon taking office, risked his life to remonstrate once more.

This time, he targeted the Empress's youngest daughter, Princess Changle, who was immensely powerful and favored, accusing her of seizing property to compete with the people for profit and holding lavish parties to build her own faction.

As the Empress's youngest daughter, and with the Li-Qian princes having been largely purged by her ruthless mother, she was the apple of the Empress's eye.

The Empress was slightly angered and stripped Ouyang Lianghan of his office on the spot, ordering fifty strokes of the bamboo cane. Had it not been for the intervention of veteran officials from the Bailudong Academy, he would have been imprisoned.

Shortly after, seemingly pressured by the outcry from the Shen-du literati, the original self was reinstated and promoted. However, it was a "promotion in name, demotion in reality"—he was kicked out of Shen-du and sent to the remote Longcheng County in the Jiangnan Circuit to serve as a magistrate.

How could a seventh-rank magistrate of a far-flung county compare to the prestige of a ninth-rank corrector in the capital?

But through this ordeal, the name "Ouyang Lianghan" became synonymous with an "upright gentleman," and his fame spread across the land.

Ouyang Rong, having digested these memories, sighed.

Lying on the bed with his eyes closed, he pointed at his own nose and cursed himself, unable to decide whether to laugh or cry:

"You poor fool, you are the definition of someone whose head isn't screwed on straight. You've lost everything; other than a hollow reputation, you've lost your shirt. Well, at least this handsome face—officially certified as the third-place scholar—is something they can't take away. And to think you were used as a blade without even realizing it—a blade to be discarded the moment it was used, by someone too afraid to get their hands dirty.

"That Wei Empress is a woman usurping the throne, her rule is illegitimate. The Great Zhou looks prosperous, but it's like a fire raging on oil. The hearts of the people still lean toward the Li-Qian royal family. Even if they're cowards now and few princes remain, the underlying sentiment of the people is still there.

"There must be many who sympathize with the old dynasty in the court. The Guanlong aristocracy that helped establish the dynasty is still deeply rooted, especially the traditional civil officials. The Li-Qian dynasty spent seventy years cultivating scholars; these ties aren't easily severed. Perhaps even your teachers and the bigwigs from Bailudong Academy are part of the pro-Qian faction, waiting for the Empress to return power to the Li clan... and you, you idiot.

"Sigh, Princess Changle may be arrogant, but she still carries the Li surname. For all we know, she might be the one protecting the remaining Li seedlings all these years. You shouldn't have picked a fight with her. You were just a sharp blade for the Wei clan, and did they even protect you afterward? You’re just relying on a hollow reputation and your academy background. The ministers who paved the way for you probably look at you like you're a fool now.

"And those literati? They’re just trolls looking for a show. That hollow reputation they gave you is useless. And mark my words, sending you to Longcheng to handle flood control is likely a trap. They know you're just a pretty vase; once you fail to control the floods, you'll lose your last bit of credibility...

"Forget it, none of these people are any good."

Ouyang Rong opened his eyes and stared at the bed curtains. "Even I, an armchair political commentator, could see that. And you're a scholar? You had no sense of smell for this, only good at reading and exams, right?

"...What? You say you actually guessed some of it, but you submitted the memorial the very next morning anyway? Because the ministers stayed silent, and you couldn't stay silent after seeing what you saw? You even told your old servant to prepare a coffin before you went to court?"

The room was silent for a while.

"Fine. No wonder you were more successful than me, just a bit suicidal."

Ouyang Rong sighed, got out of bed, and walked to the washbasin.

He looked at the distant mountains through the window. "This is a high-stakes game."

He then looked down at his gaunt reflection in the water. To be fair, he did look a bit like Hu Ge, the Hu Ge from *Chinese Paladin*. He just wondered if the wound on his forehead would leave a scar...

Never mind. Giving others a way out is a form of merit, isn't it?

A little tip for accumulating merit every day. Ouyang Rong smiled, his mood lifting slightly. Who knows, maybe when enough merit is accumulated, the Buddha will send him home.

"The original self is almost identical to me, perhaps I'm in a parallel universe. It seems I actually have potential in studying, as long as I don't have to memorize those damn English words..."

Suddenly, Ouyang Rong pulled his hands out of the water, didn't bother drying them, and scrambled back into bed with the agility of a rabbit. He lay down and closed his eyes, feigning rhythmic breathing.

A flurry of footsteps approached from outside.

Over the past two days, various people had come to visit—the county assistant, the sheriff, the registrar, as well as local gentry—but he had avoided seeing them, claiming he was "unconscious."

There were some things Ouyang Rong hadn't fully thought through, and he didn't want to meet these "foxes" with their fake concern.

Before the visitors reached the door, Ouyang Rong heard two voices arguing in the corridor. One was familiar, the other a stranger.

"Don't stop me! What have you done to Mingtang? Why won't you let me see him? Are you up to your usual tricks of keeping a patient barely alive to milk them for money?!"

"Officer Yan, please, don't joke about such things. You're from Longcheng too; how could our Donglin Temple do something as unscrupulous as a roadside quack?" The little monk with the flowing hair sounded startled.

"Hmph, you better not have. I'm telling you, Mingtang is a scholar appointed by the Emperor of the Great Zhou. If anything happens to him in your temple... you'll all be spending the rest of your lives building pagodas."

"Oh, Officer, you're joking. The Magistrate is clearly a man of immense integrity; he's destined to be honored in the Confucian Temple one day. He's blessed, nothing will happen." The monk sighed. "...And as for the pagodas, our temple really can't build any more. Several have collapsed for no reason already."

"I knew your temple was cursed." The one called Officer Yan sounded agitated. "Then why won't you let me see him?"

"Our Abbot said the Magistrate is mentally exhausted and needs rest."

"Resting for three days and still not awake? You told me he'd be fine in two days! I don't believe a word you say!"

"This... I don't know either. It's strange, why hasn't he woken up in broad daylight? He always wakes up for meals."

"Get out of the way!"

"Ouch, that hurts! Officer, please, don't kick! There's a saying in Longcheng: don't hit a monk, and don't hit a beggar. I'm both! Don't hit a man of the cloth, it'll cost you merit..."

"I'll give you 'man of the cloth'!"

"..." the monk.

*Creak—*

Ouyang Rong heard the door being pushed open.

"Mingtang!"

Ouyang Rong, eyes closed, felt a gust of wind as someone rushed to his bedside.

This must be Yan Wuxu, the son of the Longcheng Sheriff. Like Ouyang Rong, he had recently taken over his father's duties as the head of the bailiffs.

Though he seemed a bit boisterous, he was quite diligent. It was he and some kitchen staff who had jumped into the water to save Ouyang Rong when he fell.

Memories flashed through Ouyang Rong's mind. He felt his arm being shaken a few times. He continued to feign sleep, keeping his breathing steady.

The person at the bedside stared at him for a long time, and then... suddenly, with a sharp "clink," he drew his blade.

*Holy crap! I'm done for...* Ouyang Rong's breath hitched. One thought occupied his mind:

*Is it Princess Changle? Or an assassin sent by the Wei clan? Is it really necessary to go this far?*