Chapter 1: Transmigrated as the Fake Heir
The Imperial Capital of Great Qian.
The Wu Residence.
In the quiet chamber, incense curled up in threads from the beast-shaped burner.
On the screen’s painted wall, a beauty raised her fan to cover her face.
“Lord Wu, you, as Deputy Supervisor of the Eastern Armory, have embezzled while guarding the storehouse, stolen dragon-pattern secret gold, allowed the inner repository’s scribes to copy and reproduce the royal martial arts, and practiced them in private.”
“You wouldn’t want me to hand these pieces of evidence over to the Ministry of Justice, would you? Just a while ago, when the Xuanlin Guards thoroughly investigated the former Vice Minister of Revenue for lining his own pockets, it caused unrest throughout the capital.”
A young man held a cup of clear tea, sitting quietly in a rosewood grand master’s chair, speaking unhurriedly.
His face was like jade, his features refined and handsome.
He wore a simple silk robe of azure brocade, a python embroidered on the chest, landscapes of clouds and rivers painted on the back.
At the collar and cuffs, threads of dark-gold silk glimmered—his bearing was one of nobility and distinction.
The current head of the Wu family, Wu Hong, Deputy Supervisor of the Armory of the Sixth Rank, hunched his back, standing to the side in attendance.
His face had gone pale, cold sweat beading on his forehead.
“N-no… I do not know what request the Heir might have? As long as it is within my ability, I will certainly comply.”
His voice trembled.
He could not fathom how the evidence had fallen into this young man’s hands.
Any one of these crimes was enough to have his entire household executed several times over.
“I heard your daughter Wu Ruyue is returning to the capital soon. For this brilliant martial scholar, I, this heir, have admired her for a long time.”
“Would Lord Wu be willing to act as matchmaker for me?”
The young man set down his tea, smiling lightly.
His voice was calm and gentle.
“What…”
Wu Hong froze instantly at those words, his face turning even paler, lips quivering.
If one did not understand this fellow’s true nature, from appearances alone one might mistake him for a refined, gentle young lord.
But for his daughter to marry him—it would be no different than being pushed into a pit of fire.
“My little daughter is plain as a withered willow. How could she ever be worthy of the Heir’s gaze…” His voice trembled.
The young man’s smile vanished at once, his eyes narrowing: “What, do you think I am unworthy of your daughter?”
“N-no… I wouldn’t dare…”
“It’s just that my little daughter has been headstrong since childhood. I fear she may not listen to me.” Wu Hong hurried to explain.
“Marriage is determined by parental command and the words of a matchmaker.”
“As long as you agree, when the time comes I will have my mother mention it before His Majesty and request an imperial betrothal. Would she dare disobey an imperial decree?” the young man said coolly.
“Enough, it is settled.”
“When Wu Ruyue returns to the capital, I will bring the three letters and six betrothal gifts to propose in person.”
With that, he ignored the increasingly ashen Wu Hong, rose, and strode straight out of the quiet chamber.
“Shen Yanzhou, you are simply bullying to the extreme…”
“Do you really think that just because the Demon Suppression King backs you, you can act as you please?”
Only after the young man walked far away did Wu Hong, frozen in place, finally come to his senses.
His pent-up fury erupted as he roared, sweeping the cups and saucers from the table onto the ground.
The maids beside him all trembled in fear, not daring to breathe too loudly.
In the entire Imperial Capital of Great Qian, who did not know the nature of that person just now? Even the womenfolk of the Six Ministries’ high officials—if he set his eyes on them, he dared order his lackeys to drag them straight into his residence.
How could a small household like the Wu Residence possibly afford to offend him?
…
At the Wu Residence gates, a luxurious carriage painted in gold and red stood waiting.
An elder in a black robe held the reins nearby.
His hands were dry as branches, cheekbones sharp, yet his eyes still gleamed with brilliance.
“Young Master…”
Seeing Shen Yanzhou walk out the gates, the black-robed elder immediately went forward, about to lift the carriage curtain.
But Shen Yanzhou narrowed his eyes and waved his hand, speaking with interest: “No hurry.”
The black-robed elder was puzzled, but then heard the sound of horse hooves striking stone, coming from the end of the long street.
Following Shen Yanzhou’s gaze, he saw two glossy stallions approaching one after the other.
Seated upright on the foremost black horse was a tall, slender woman, figure like bamboo.
She wore a suit of silver soft armor, her chest full, brows like swords, features exquisite, her bearing heroic.
A long mane of ink-black hair gleamed like polished jade, tied into a high ponytail with a white silk ribbon.
At her slim waist was a red-tasseled spear as long as one and a half zhang.
Her eyes seemed to contain stars, mountains, and seas—her presence was striking and commanding.
Slightly behind her, on the second stallion, rode a man in plain gray robes.
His features were refined yet firm, his eyes dark as ink, his posture straight and strong.
A sword box was strapped to his back.
Even in his smallest gestures, he carried an air of someone tempered by the battlefield.
“That martial champion, Wu Ruyue? She has actually returned to the capital?”
The black-robed elder was astonished.
As an old retainer of the Demon Suppression King’s household, he naturally recognized this female champion who had stunned the court during the palace examination and won the Emperor’s praise.
“Elder Mo, come with me to greet Miss Wu.”
Shen Yanzhou, ignoring the elder’s surprise, clapped his hands and strode forward with a cheerful smile.
This Princess Mingkong of the original plot—she was even more breathtaking in person than the book had described.
He sighed inwardly in admiration.
Shen Yanzhou was not a man of this world—he was a transmigrator.
Just days ago, after leaving a mocking comment calling a novel about the real and fake heirs brainless, his vision went black.
When he opened his eyes again, he had crossed into this world.
The good news: he had become the fake heir of the Demon Suppression King’s household, basking in endless glory and favor.
The bad news: it was all intentional.
The true heir, Shen Tian, had been under the Demon Suppression King’s watch, fighting the demon clans on the southern border with the Demon Suppression Army, building up military merit, and tempering himself.
His own identity—put nicely, he was called “Heir.” Put bluntly, he was a hostage.
Without the approval of the one within the Hall of Virtuous Enlightenment, he could not even leave the capital.
Of course, for now it was still some time before the true heir’s identity would be revealed to the world, before the father and son of the Demon Suppression King reunited before the court.
Until then, he could still rely on his current status, continuing to act as an arrogant, bullying wastrel.
However, once the true heir stepped into the light, the radiance of the Demon Suppression King’s heir upon him would fade away bit by bit, until it vanished completely.
Shen Yanzhou remembered it clearly: in the original plot, he, as the fake heir, was secretly resented by the true heir Shen Tian.
A single careless remark—that he did not wish his life to be tainted—led to him being crippled by black-masked men who broke his limbs, shattered his true spirit, and left him to freeze to death on a bitter winter street…
Shen Yanzhou did not want to die.
He wanted to save himself.
Fortunately, he had transmigrated together with something else—the nearly transparent light screen before him, visible only to him.
【Name: Shen Yanzhou (Status: Bound by the Nether Curse)】
【Techniques: None】
【Secret Arts: None】
【Realm: None】
【Available Basic Points: 0 (15.11/100)】
At first, Shen Yanzhou had no idea what use this light screen had.
Until he casually ordered one of his lackeys to go to the Drunken Immortal Tavern to gather information—when a thought flashed in his mind: “Negative emotion from Li Ergou +0.01.”
Only then did Shen Yanzhou realize the function of his golden finger: it could collect the negative emotions of people around him.
Once he accumulated 100 negative emotions, he could exchange them for 1 basic point, to allocate into techniques, martial arts, or divine abilities.