DIHBSG chapter 1

“Xiao, you traitor and tyrant! Today we will act on behalf of heaven and take his head!”

“Without Prince Heng’s approval, no one is allowed to leave the Golden Throne Hall even half a step!”

“Gentlemen, for the sake of our past colleague relationship, as long as you recognize the situation and surrender, after Prince Heng ascends the throne, he will naturally grant you endless wealth and glory!”

……

Damn it, so noisy.

Were they playing another “320p HD” video in class again?

Song Jian had stayed up all night playing games. At eight in the morning, he was so sleepy he couldn’t even tell friend from foe. He planned to stuff his ears with headphones and go back to sleep, reaching into his “pocket”…

Wait.

Where’s my pocket???

Song Jian opened his eyes like he’d seen a ghost, staring straight at a tall pillar carved with golden dragons and painted with divine birds. He leaned back in shock. “Huh?” What’s going on?

More shouting came from below him.

Song Jian glanced down.

“!!!”

Holy crap, that’s high!!!

His hands trembled as he tried to hug the pillar, but then he heard that same loud old man’s voice shouting again: “Song Jian! Kill him!”

That shout was so forceful it made his soul shrink. His foot slipped—and he fell straight down from the beam.

Holy crap crap crap crap!!!

Ahhhhhhh!!!

Everything happened too suddenly. Shouts erupted in the hall: “Protect the emperor! Protect the emperor!!”

Song Jian crashed heavily into a strong pair of arms, nearly having the wind knocked out of him.

The ministers were terrified, their faces pale as they screamed.

“Your Majesty, be careful!”

“Song Jian, how bold of you!”

“Protect the emperor! Quickly, protect him!”

Huh?!! Protect what?!

Song Jian weakly slid off the man’s body and sat on the ground, staring up in pure terror into the man’s eyes.

Behind the twelve-beaded imperial crown, those eyes were like blades, slowly scraping across his face. Before he could react, a rough hand clamped around his neck.

Song Jian: (Sa Beining inhaling oxygen jpg.)*

I’m done for I’m done for I’m done for.

At the critical moment, Song Jian’s brain worked fast—he didn’t get his breath back and simply fainted on the spot.

Xiao Yinghuai: “?”

Did I use too much force?

As Song Jian collapsed, the shouting of the rebel faction in the hall suddenly quieted down.

The situation exceeded everyone’s expectations. Prince Heng’s face changed color repeatedly, and the ministers aligned with him looked even worse.

At that moment, the commander of the imperial guards reported: “Your Majesty, Prince Heng’s rebel faction has all been executed.”

Before the hidden shadow guards of the Tiancha Division could even act, a minister in the corner suddenly took off his shoe and threw it at Prince Heng’s head.

“I spit on you!”

The other ministers immediately followed suit. Those with shoes took off shoes and threw them; those without shoes threw their official hats; those without hats threw jade tablets from their hands.

“Beat this treacherous rebel to death!”

“Pah! I spit, I spit!”

“You’re already tired of living and still want to drag us down!”

“Exactly!”

“Your Majesty! Please do not spare them!”

Song Jian, lying on the ground pretending to be unconscious: “……”

Look at that. The brave ones always leave the world first.

Start a rebellion for no reason and the whole family gets wiped out together.

But Song Jian didn’t yet know—he was one of the rebels too.

At some point, he felt himself being lifted. The man’s low, cold voice said: “Take him to the Imperial Study. I will interrogate him personally.”

Huh?

Huh huh???

Song Jian kept his eyes shut, not daring to breathe loudly, terrified of exposing himself and getting killed on the spot. As they passed through the hall, a detained conspirator pointed at him and shouted:

“Song Jian! You dare betray Prince Heng!”

The man’s voice was hoarse and grating, like ghostly music.

Song Jian kept playing dead, completely still.

The conspirator kept shouting: “Song Jian! Song Jian! You betrayed Prince Heng! You will die a terrible death!”

He had a shoe hanging from his head, thrown by some loyal official, a shoe print on his face, and his hair was messy and disheveled.

Song Jian thought: brother, please shut up already. You don’t want to live, I still do.

The rebels wailed on their knees:

“We poured our heart and soul into this rebellion!”

“We exhausted ourselves, yet we ended up like this!”

Someone nearby couldn’t help poking him: “Uh… didn’t we call it an uprising when we gathered troops?”

“……”

The voices around him grew quieter and quieter. Song Jian smelled fresh air from outside the hall.

They were out.

After winding through many corridors, the sounds around him went from “oh!” “ah!” “what happened to Lord Song?!” “Heavens!” to finally: “Throw him here.”

With a thud, Song Jian was dropped onto the cold hard floor, the impact so strong he almost jumped up on the spot.

So rude—if you were going to carry me, at least put me down gently!

He cursed internally, but kept his body perfectly still, playing dead just as he had been before, afraid of being discovered.

Joke’s on you—he didn’t even understand the situation yet, and he didn’t want to die for nothing.

With his face pressed against the ground and eyes tightly shut, he recalled that the voice earlier had said to take him to the Imperial Study. So this should be inside the Imperial Study.

The hall outside was in chaos—rebels, shoe flying, fistfights, shouting like a marketplace—so the emperor was probably too busy to deal with him right now.

Song Jian quietly sniffed.

Mm, it smells nice.

Whatever incense was burning in the Imperial Study, it was the same scent as the emperor he had crashed into earlier.

Thinking of that made him nervous again. Treason meant extermination of nine generations—how many generations would he get for crashing into the emperor?

His thoughts wandered. At first he was tense, unable to lie still, but after too long waiting, he quietly yawned, tears forming at the corners of his eyes.

He was really getting sleepy.

He forced himself not to fall asleep, calmly analyzing his situation.

Conclusion: yes, he had probably transmigrated, and had coincidentally landed right in the classic palace coup scenario from dramas.

Analysis…

“==”

zZZZZ……

He didn’t know how long it had been before the door to the Imperial Study creaked open.

“Your Majesty, this—”

A corner of bright yellow stopped at the doorway. After a moment, he lazily raised a hand. The head eunuch immediately understood and fell silent, only saying softly: “Then this old servant will take his leave.”

Xiao Yinghuai walked in and didn’t even glance at the person sleeping on the floor. He sat behind the imperial desk and casually picked up a few memorials.

The first was from the Ministry of Rites, rambling on and on without getting to the point.

Xiao Yinghuai wrote with a vermilion brush: Cut the nonsense, be concise, stop talking rubbish.

The second was a complaint—an official from the Ministry of Revenue accusing someone from the Ministry of Personnel of speaking ill of him after work. The writing was emotional and intense.

Xiao Yinghuai frowned and wrote: You are truly noisy.

He picked up the third memorial—then the person lying on the ground suddenly muttered in his sleep:

“The cafeteria chicken leg dares to charge me eight yuan…”

Xiao Yinghuai lifted his eyes.

“Also braised chicken again… I’m not eating braised chicken anymore…”

“Marksman¹射手 (shèshǒu) literally means “archer” or “shooter,” but in MOBA games (such as Honor of Kings, League of Legends, Mobile Legends, etc.), it refers to the marksman/ADC role—a ranged damage dealer who relies on basic attacks., take the red buff… damn it, stop stealing the mid lane farm…”

“I’m going to strangle everyone who invented group projects…”

“DDL… mm, DDL…”²DDL is internet/student slang that comes from the English phrase “deadline.”

The man’s handsome, deep features were half-hidden in shadow. His narrow eyes were filled with cold scrutiny.

Song Jian was woken up by the cold.

He was used to sleeping with a blanket. Even if it didn’t fully cover him, he had to have something on his stomach. Half-asleep, he reached out, trying to grab something to pull over himself.

After fumbling around for a long time, he finally grabbed a piece of fabric… and tugged twice.

Song Jian: “Hm? Hm??”

He lifted his head—and his eyes suddenly widened.

A person.

A man.

The emperor.

Song Jian seemed to lose the ability to speak. He hurriedly scrambled to his feet. Where he had been sleeping, a glistening wet patch caught the light.

He wiped his saliva while straightening his clothes, then obediently knelt down beside him without saying a word.

Xiao Yinghuai stood tall, looking down at the personal guard kneeling before him. The right side of Song Jian’s face had a deep red mark from lying on it for too long, still faintly damp with saliva.

“Song Jian,” the man said in a low, deep voice.

“How many years have you been by my side?”

Song Jian: “o.O?”

Was he found out? Was this a test?

He stammered, “A… a lot… many, many years.”

Xiao Yinghuai slowly bent down and pinched his chin, forcing him to raise his face.

Song Jian panicked internally. The saliva—he’s touching the saliva!

The man ignored it completely, staring at him coldly.

Song Jian’s lips were pinched into a small pout, like a little yellow duck.

He made a few incoherent sounds: “Your Majesty… I…”

“And what about you?”

Interrupted, Song Jian blinked rapidly. “I… I said today was an accident, do you believe me?”

Xiao Yinghuai: “I thought you’d be able to give a better reason.”

The man let go.

Song Jian watched him take out a handkerchief and slowly wipe his hands.

“….”

Does he even respect people? Does he know what “integrity, dedication, honesty, friendliness” mean?

The disrespectful emperor slowly wiped his hands while Song Jian knelt in front of him, his knees going numb.

At that moment, Song Jian finally painfully understood: life’s dividing line is actually the amniotic fluid.

Some people are born emperors. Others are born shadow guards, eunuchs, servants, or laborers.

Lost in thought, he quietly massaged his knees, but it didn’t help much. In the end, he tucked his hands beneath them.

Much more comfortable.

After finishing wiping his hands, Xiao Yinghuai looked down and noticed his shadow guard had somehow collapsed into a twisted position.

“Where are your hands?”

Song Jian looked up: “?”

So fast? I got caught already?

He slowly pulled his hands out from under his knees and obediently spread his palms like a wronged elementary school student. His fingers were slightly pink from pressure.

Xiao Yinghuai glanced at him. “You can’t even endure this little bit of kneeling?”

The rebellious university student: “……”

What are you barking about? Why don’t you try kneeling yourself?

Damn feudal imperial system.

Xiao Yinghuai thought he was mistaken—but he actually saw dissatisfaction on his shadow guard’s face.

Mm, not mistaken. His face was puffed up with anger like a bun.

Just then, Xiao Yinghuai’s expression sharpened. His hand suddenly shot out toward the man’s neck.

Song Jian: “???”

Bro?? Again??

He couldn’t breathe. Soon, involuntary tears filled his eyes. His eyes reddened as he trembled and grabbed the man’s arm.

It’s over. I’m going to die.

Die.

Die…

At the last moment before his lungs ran out of air, Xiao Yinghuai released him—but immediately moved his hand to his dantian.

Song Jian, who had been half-dead a second ago, suddenly widened his eyes in terror.

Shit!

Is this gay stuff?!

He hurriedly covered himself, but the man didn’t even look at the place he was covering. His rough hand pressed against his abdomen.

……

Internal energy hasn’t disappeared.

Then what’s going on?

After being groped all over, Song Jian was casually tossed aside like a rag doll.

Good news: he wasn’t gay.

Bad news: he was gay.

Men and men should avoid physical contact. He was no longer pure.

Song Jian silently fumed, holding his stomach as he knelt—well, half-knelt.

This position was even less tiring than putting his hands under his knees, though his feet were starting to go numb.

He quietly shifted again, switching legs.

This reminded him of military training at university—where the stupid instructor always played tricks like this.

While he was obediently kneeling, that “idiot emperor” spoke.

“Seventeen.”

Song Jian almost blurted out “eighteen.”

Heh.

One month of military training camp, a lifetime of military trauma.

A black shadow silently appeared in the Imperial Study and landed beside him without a sound, kneeling on one knee. Song Jian hadn’t even seen where this guy came from.

He shifted slightly and glanced over—the man was fully masked, no face visible, but his outfit looked similar.

A colleague, then.

Although Song Jian was still in college, he knew that when you first entered the workforce, you had to get along with your idiot boss and your fellow corporate drones. Otherwise, life as a wage slave would be an uphill battle.

He coughed and signaled to Seventeen with his eyes, showing him that kneeling like this would save a bit of effort.

Seventeen didn’t move at all, like a statue.

Xiao Yinghuai stood by the desk, idly adjusting an incense burner. “Tell your Song commander the rules of the Tiancha Division.”

Seventeen said calmly: “Those who fail in duty will receive thirty lashes upon return.”

Song Jian: “???”

Lashes?

What kind of lashes?

The kind where a leather whip is dipped in salt water, disinfecting you while it beats you?

In many TV dramas and films Song Jian had watched, there were scenes of prisoners being interrogated in the Ministry of Justice prison. The whips would be soaked in water overnight beforehand. After absorbing enough water, they became supple and elastic. One lash would split the skin and tear the flesh; two lashes would leave your backside in full bloom; three lashes would turn you straight into a foldable screen.

“……”

Thanks, but it would’ve been better if they’d just strangled him earlier.

Song Jian had never really suffered growing up. He’d sailed smoothly all the way into university, studying new ideas every day and striving to become a model young citizen. Before he could enjoy the benefits of being a 21st-century college student, he ended up getting a taste of feudal-era suffering first.

His vision went dark, and he nearly fainted.

No joke—this time he was really done for.

Xiao Yinghuai dismissed Seventeen with a wave and turned to ask, “Will you accept punishment?”

Song Jian’s face turned deathly pale. He shook like a leaf in the wind and, after a long pause, finally squeezed out:

“No… can I not accept it?”

Xiao Yinghuai: “?”

*Sa Beining inhaling oxygen jpg

You can read the full completed story here with instant full access. ✨

• 1
  射手 (shèshǒu) literally means “archer” or “shooter,” but in MOBA games (such as Honor of Kings, League of Legends, Mobile Legends, etc.), it refers to the marksman/ADC role—a ranged damage dealer who relies on basic attacks.
• 2
  DDL is internet/student slang that comes from the English phrase “deadline.”