When I woke up, I became Ximen Qing.
When I was five years old, I looked at my face clearly in the bronze mirror, and there was only one sentence in my mind: It's over, this man died of indulgence at the age of twenty-seven, and his death was uglier than anyone else's.
Pan Jinlian, Li Ping'er, Wu Dalang, Wu Song... A whole list of deaths in the original novel was all on my head.
Others traveled through time to create a harem, but I traveled through time to dismantle the harem.
Don't lust after other people's wives and daughters, don't dominate other people's property, and live past the age of twenty-seven—three rules I have nailed to my heart.
But this body is disobedient. The more I want to stay away from women, the more peach blossoms rush to my face; the more I want to do serious business, I just can't avoid Pan Jinlian's street.
OK. In this life, I, Ximen Qing, will be regarded as a good person by everyone in Qinghe County.
Whoever wants to call me a slut again, who am I to worry about?
