Young Master, Spare My Life!

Transmigrating into the Great Xuan Dynasty, I became the lowest-born illegitimate son of the Duke of Zhenguo’s household:

They called me a madman.

Because I dared to raid a camp of ten thousand with just three hundred battered soldiers and capture a Northern Yan female general alive.

When threatened, I said, “That’s for the old emperor to worry about.”

You killed my elder brother?

Then take your time, cut him to pieces one stroke at a time, and remember to brew the blood into wine and send it to me.

At court, I personally tore apart the Confucian rule of “father and son.”

Beneath the imperial throne, my battle achievements won me the title of “solitary minister.”

The emperor wanted to use me as a blade to eliminate the great clans.

My family wanted me to be a dog, begging on my knees to survive.

The enemy kingdom wanted me to be a demon, hacked to pieces.

I silently sharpened my blade. “Why bother? I only want to quietly be a solitary minister…”

Yet they collapsed to their knees, crying, “Young Master, the illegitimate son… spare us! Please, spare us!”