"You dare tear down the Imperial Edict calling for talent? If I don't break your damn legs today, I might as well smash my head to death!"

A thunderous, authoritative roar rang out.

Gao Yang slowly woke, feeling as if his head were splitting apart.

Tear down an Imperial Edict?

Hadn't he just run a scheme, fleeced a few foreigners for over a million U.S. dollars, then called in a few blonde girls to a hotel to do his patriotic duty for the nation?

Gao Yang instinctively opened his eyes, and everything around him came into view.

He was actually sprawled on top of a courtyard wall, lying flat across it.

Below him, inside an elegant old-style courtyard, a crowd stood beneath the wall, all shouting for Young Master to calm down and not act rashly.

Several maidservants even had their arms outstretched, ready to catch Gao Yang at any moment.

At the front stood a middle-aged man with an imposing presence. He was glaring at him, eyes fierce enough to devour someone alive.

"Wretched beast, I'll give you three breaths. Get down and stop making a disgrace of yourself up there."

Gao Yang instantly got pissed.

The middle-aged man did look impressive, all stern and commanding, but he really thought he was somebody. Calling him a beast, threatening to break his legs—did he seriously think he was Gao Yang's father or something?

As a shameless black-hearted capitalist of the twenty-first century, a man who had terrified countless foreigners by reputation, how could Gao Yang swallow that kind of insult?

This was a society ruled by law—what was there to fear? If the guy dared lay a hand on him, he'd squeeze at least three grand out of him.

So Gao Yang opened his mouth and cursed, "You old bastard, if you keep spewing shit, I'll punch your dog eyes right out of your skull!"

The moment those words came out—

everyone in Duke Dingguo Manor was stunned.

"He's gone mad. Eldest Young Master has definitely gone mad. He actually dares talk to Master like that!"

Not far away stood a richly dressed middle-aged woman, graceful and still full of charm.

When she heard Gao Yang's words, her hand slackened instinctively. The exquisite jade ruyi she had been holding fell to the ground and shattered with a crisp crack.

But she didn't even notice, her face frozen in shock.

The middle-aged man's eyes widened. His entire body trembled with rage, as though he were on the verge of exploding.

"Wretched beast! You dare speak to your father like that?"

Gao Yang shot back without thinking, "You old bastard, still talking big? I could just as well say I'm your father!"

As soon as he said it—

"What?!"

The middle-aged man shook violently.

His lips had gone white with fury as he roared, "Men! Bring me a long ladder and my saber! Rather than let this beast barge into the palace and bring ruin upon the entire Gao Clan, I'd sooner clean house with my own hands and then go beg forgiveness from Her Majesty the Empress!"

As that furious roar echoed through all of Duke Dingguo Manor,

several servants in armor hurried over with a long ladder, and one of them handed him a broadsword gleaming with cold light.

Damn!

What the hell was going on?

With one look, Gao Yang could tell that sword was real.

Then he glanced around again—the grand, imposing residence, the ancient, elegant courtyard.

Oh, shit.

Don't tell me I transmigrated?

Right then, a sharp pain exploded in Gao Yang's head, and a vast flood of memories poured into his mind.

The next second,

he opened his eyes, now filled with deep shock.

Oh, shit.

He really had transmigrated.

This wasn't a law-bound modern society. It was the Great Qian Dynasty, a dynasty that had never existed in history.

That middle-aged man before him was his father, Gao Feng, the Vice Minister of Revenue of Great Qian, a proper 3rd Rank official.

His grandfather, Gao Tianlong, was even more formidable—a veteran of three reigns and the number one figure in the military.

Through the memories, Gao Yang quickly understood everything.

Two months ago, the Empress Wu Zhao had ascended the throne, becoming the first female sovereign in the history of the Great Qian Dynasty.

But Great Qian was now in chaos. Internally, treacherous officials held sway and vassal princes carved up their own territories. Externally, the Xiongnu watched like hungry tigers.

The Empress was full of ambition, determined to sweep away the troubled age and lay down a foundation for Great Qian that would last ten thousand years.

One month ago, the Empress issued a Talent-Seeking Edict and posted Imperial Notices, calling for gifted minds from all under heaven and seeking policies to strengthen the nation.

The Empress had especially declared that extraordinary achievements required extraordinary people. Anyone with world-shaking talent, regardless of background, could enter court and serve as an official.

And then the original owner of this body—the capital's biggest wastrel, a man skilled in eating, drinking, whoring, and gambling—had somehow torn down the Imperial Notice.

That had sent Gao Feng into instant fury, making him feel that calamity had befallen his household.

Because by the Empress's command, anyone who removed an Imperial Notice would be summoned to the Jinluan Hall. Those with talent would be heavily employed—but those seeking fame without substance would be sentenced to thirty strokes.

In severe cases, it would be treated as the Crime of Deceiving the Sovereign.

So after hearing the news, Gao Feng had grabbed a stick and chased Gao Yang all over the courtyard, trying to beat him to death.

Gao Yang, using both hands and feet, had climbed up onto the courtyard wall.

A ducal household did not fear future descendants becoming wastrels. What it truly feared was a wastrel who didn't know he was a wastrel, yet still wanted to prove himself and establish some earth-shaking achievement.

In Gao Feng's eyes, Gao Yang was exactly that kind of wastrel.

Thunk.

After learning everything, Gao Yang panicked.

He looked down at Gao Feng below. Gao Feng had already taken the saber, and the killing intent rolling off him was obvious.

Cold sweat instantly poured down Gao Yang's forehead.

Just as he was thinking about how to get out of this, a furious shout rang out.

"Gao Feng, how dare you!"

Like a mother hen protecting her chick, Madam Li hurried in front of Gao Feng. "Even a tiger won't eat its own cubs. If you want to kill Yang'er, kill me first."

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Madam Li, the eldest daughter of the Li Clan of the Five Surnames and Seven Clans, was Gao Yang's birth mother and the one who managed all the affairs of Duke Dingguo Manor.

"Move aside. This beast has already gone mad. If he makes it to the Jinluan Hall, who knows what kind of disaster he'll cause!"

As Gao Feng spoke, he angrily pointed at Gao Yang. "This beast has already stirred up huge trouble, and now he's climbed onto the wall and is running his mouth without the slightest sign of backing down. How can I tolerate him?!"

But in the very next second, Gao Yang scrambled quickly down the wall with both hands and feet.

He smoothed the wrinkles in his clothes, then respectfully bowed to Gao Feng. "Your son, Gao Yang, greets Father."

"In truth, your son tore down the Imperial Notice because I wish to build merit, forge an achievement, and restore the hundred-year glory of the Gao Clan. It was not an impulsive act."

Gao Feng: "..."

This unfilial son had caved far too quickly. It actually left him a little unaccustomed.

Gao Feng said expressionlessly, "When you were seventeen, you wrote that poem on reed blossoms—'One piece, two pieces, three, four pieces; four pieces, five pieces, six, seven pieces'—and turned the Gao Clan into a joke among the people of Chang'an. Do you remember?"

The memory surged up. That time, Gao Feng and Gao Tianlong, father and son, had given him a vicious two-man beating. He'd ended up bedridden for an entire month.

Before Gao Yang could speak, Gao Feng continued, "And when you were eighteen, you wrote, 'Seen up close, it's a big rock; seen from afar, the rock looks big,' and once again pushed the Gao Clan into the center of ridicule, a disgrace to the literary world."

"Now you are nineteen, and you've torn down Her Majesty's Talent-Seeking Edict. Do you know this will make the entire Gao Clan the focus of everyone's attention?"

As he spoke, the hand holding the saber twitched.

Gao Yang understood. If he didn't give Gao Feng a reasonable explanation right now, he was definitely in for a brutal beating.

"Things have already come to this. Even if Father beats me half to death, it won't solve anything."

"The Empress has only just ascended the throne and is desperate for talent. I tore down the Imperial Notice and have already become the target of all Chang'an. If Father forcefully stops me, then at the least it would be disrespect toward the Empress. At worst, it could be pursued as the Crime of Deceiving the Sovereign!"

Gao Feng's pupils shrank, and he looked at Gao Yang in surprise.

That statement struck him right at his weak point.

A new sovereign had just taken the throne. It was a time of turmoil. Since Gao Yang had already torn down the Imperial Notice, the news had likely spread to the palace by now. If he tried to stop him, someone would definitely submit a memorial accusing him.

But when had this wretched son become so sharp-tongued?

Gao Feng was astonished.

Gao Yang said calmly, "Father, have you ever heard of a Poison Strategist?"

"A Poison Strategist?"

Gao Feng frowned.

"There are three kinds of strategists: those who scheme for themselves, those who scheme for others, and those who scheme for the realm. One who schemes for himself is a Poison Strategist. One who uses overt schemes and ruthless plots at the cost of his own virtue is also a Poison Strategist."

"Though the realm is unified, the north is unstable. Within, treacherous officials bring harm to the nation and vassal princes divide their power. Without, barbarians watch us like predators. Ordinary methods will never be enough. This is an age meant for Poison Strategists!"

Hearing this, Gao Feng's face filled with surprise.

Even though he knew the boy was talking nonsense, there was actually some sense to the nonsense.

Could it be that he had really been hiding his ability?

Just as Gao Feng was mulling it over, a gentle, graceful voice suddenly came from outside the Gao residence.

"Uncle Gao, Qingqing has come uninvited. I hope I'm not disturbing you."

Gao Yang looked up and saw a woman standing at the entrance, dressed in a dark green gown. Her skin was white as snow, and those cold eyes were fixed in his direction.

But there was clear indifference in them.

Song Qingqing, daughter of Song Li, the Minister of Rites of Great Qian—and, in name, his fiancée.

For her to show up at a time like this made Gao Yang catch a whiff of trouble.

"We're practically family, so why be so formal, Qingqing?"

The moment Gao Feng saw Song Qingqing, a warm smile appeared on his face.

Song Qingqing lifted her proud chin and said flatly, "Uncle Gao, I came today to break off the engagement."