I was the most mysterious powerful minister in Great Zhou. My origins were shrouded in mystery, and my record in office was illustrious.
Centuries later, while people were rebuilding a shrine to commemorate my great achievements, they stumbled upon a secret journal I had left behind.
The historians were devastated: the reformer they had revered as a god had actually been a commoner impersonating someone else.
Modern media went wild with the story: “Shocking! Great Zhou’s most capable official was a lowborn songstress who disguised herself as a man.”
But the biggest shock was yet to come. Inside my coffin, an archaeological team found the last sentence I had written in simplified Chinese:
“Gaokao Practice Questions, page 53, question 7: I copied the answer to the river management problem straight from there.”
