Transformed into cannon fodder for the imperial examination, I went crazy relying on standard answers.
The words "relief through work" on the examination paper shocked the examiner and made the Imperial City Secretary put me under the knife late at night.
"Who taught you this?"
Only then did I realize that the five thousand years in my mind were enough to punish the Nine Clans in this era.
What's even more ridiculous is that the identity I took seems to be related to a heinous murder case.
The future chief assistant trapped me in the study, with a smile as sharp as a knife: "Brother Su, your handwriting is like that of an old friend of mine."
The commander of the Imperial City Division handed over the poisoned wine and official seal: "Be my chess piece, or die now."
I looked down at the two invitations and took up my pen to write down a new strategy.
I will play this game myself.
Just use what you fear most - the standard answer.
