Qin Mo, a graduate student in history, wakes up as Qin Zhao, the disgraced crown prince of the Dayan Dynasty.
He has only three things to his name:
A mysterious “fragment” that can turn the peerless martial arts from wuxia novels into skills he can use, but every use takes a piece of his memory. The more he uses it, the less he remains “Qin Mo.”
The expertise he has built up from reading more than three hundred books and poring over countless piles of old documents: he can rework ancient poems to astonish the world, sway public opinion with a single essay, and hold a thousand years of rise and fall in his mind. He understands better than anyone in this era how to use “the hearts of the people.”
And a strange sensation he cannot explain: when the nation’s fate declines, he feels bone-deep cold; when the people unite, warmth flows through his veins. Since the day he arrived, his life has been bound to all the people under heaven.
The powerful chancellor has pocketed eight million taels in border defense funds, raised an army of 110,000 private soldiers, and is sharpening his knives, waiting for the emperor to draw his last breath so he can overthrow the realm in the name of “purging the emperor’s entourage.” The empress dowager in the inner palace maneuvers to keep the balance of power, intent on using him as a disposable blade. And a man who should have died twenty years ago sits by candlelight behind everyone’s backs. Even Qin Mo’s downfall was part of his game.
No matter how fast a blade is, it can’t outrun the human heart.
This disgraced crown prince doesn’t want the throne. He wants to flip the entire table.
