I Told You to Be a Playboy, Not to Win Over the Empress

The good news: I transmigrated and became the son of a governor, and even got a wife who was hailed as the greatest beauty and talent of her age.

The bad news: I’m a notorious wastrel, my wife has someone else in her heart, and we’ve lived apart since our wedding day.

The even worse news: I’m actually a transmigrator. To avoid giving myself away, I have no choice but to keep up the wastrel act!

At a brothel to listen to music.

Me: “Sing me ‘Little Apple’!”

The result: The whole room was stunned. The modern tune I hummed by sheer chance became a smash hit that set the trend!

Everyone: “This song could only come from heaven. Young Master Zhou is a true genius!”

At a poetry gathering.

Me: “Moonlight before my bed, I wonder if it’s frost on the ground!” (Time to phone it in and copy a poem!)

The result: My rival, a gifted poet, was left speechless on the spot, while my “improvised” work was hailed as an immortal masterpiece!

My wife’s best friend: “He’s no wastrel. This is a disguise that hides great wisdom beneath a foolish exterior!”

I bump into the empress traveling incognito.

Me: “Hey, gorgeous, are you here alone? Want to have a drink with me?” (Just acting like my usual wastrel self.)

The result: Not only does the empress not get angry, she finds me sincere, adorable, and unlike anyone else!

The empress, smiling: “You’re an interesting little fellow. What’s your name?”

I really just want to lie flat and be a wastrel. How did I somehow become a literary giant, the empress’s confidant, and a heartbreaker? Honey, if you don’t come around soon, someone’s going to steal your husband!