Ten-year-old Zong Jincheng was an idle, good-for-nothing young master, the Capital City’s most notorious playboy. Yet, he lived each day in pure bliss. He didn’t have to study, practice martial arts, or endure any of the hardships ordinary people faced. The Marquis Manor could shield him forever in this carefree happiness.
But now, the Marquis Manor was about to fall.
The charge of treason would implicate the entire clan, the Zong Family’s vast wealth—enough to rival a nation—would be confiscated, and even this ten-year-old child would be dragged to his death alongside them.
Zong Zhao trembled as he patted his son’s head, whispering hoarsely, “This isn’t your fault. It’s mine. I failed all of you.”
Only now did he feel a sliver of relief that he had never appeared before Xu Wan. Had she married him, she would have been nothing more than another innocent life sacrificed.
He had lost… utterly and completely.
Zong Jincheng sobbed uncontrollably, clutching his father’s robes in despair. “If I had studied harder, trained harder, grown into someone strong and capable… I could have protected you and our family…”
Zong Zhao closed his eyes.
Jincheng wasn’t wrong. His identity was special—he could have protected them all.
But…
There was no chance left.
Zong Jincheng was taken away, leaving the prison cell in suffocating silence.
Late at night, Eunuch Huang arrived with a tray, his voice trembling with sorrow. “General Zong…”
Zong Zhao, seated on the ground, opened his eyes and saw the small vial on the tray. He knew what it was. A bitter laugh escaped him. “Is the Emperor so impatient?”
The execution was set for autumn—mere months away. Even imprisoned, the Emperor couldn’t rest easy, just as he had ensured Luo Jingfeng’s death, leaving no room for error.
Eunuch Huang’s tears fell as he set the tray down and knelt beside him. “The Emperor… his paranoia knows no bounds. He wishes for you to go first. Your family… they can wait until autumn…”
Zong Zhao was silent for a long moment before speaking abruptly. “Spare Zong Jincheng. He’s Concubine Shu’s secret child—a royal heir, not a Zong.”
If the Zong Family was doomed to annihilation, he wanted at least this innocent boy to live. He had promised His Highness.
Eunuch Huang’s eyes widened in shock. “That child is alive? But… the Crown Prince was ordered to kill him!”
Zong Zhao’s head snapped up. “You knew?”
Eunuch Huang’s voice shook. “Yes… the Emperor had Huaishui deliver the order. He wanted to test whether the Crown Prince would go through with it… General, don’t hope. The Emperor, who could turn even the Crown Prince—raised under his own guidance—into a murderer, would never let Concubine Shu’s child live.”
Zong Jincheng would die, no matter what.
Zong Zhao froze, his voice hollow with disbelief. “The Crown Prince… it was him?”
Eunuch Huang wiped his tears and handed him the poison. “This was concocted by the renowned poison master Feng Qinglai. For ten years, the Emperor had Huaishui administer it to the Crown Prince… Now, it will be your end.”
Zong Zhao took the vial, tears spilling down his face. He laughed, wild and broken. “So it wasn’t Luo Jingfeng… It was the Emperor. The Crown Prince’s own father… Even beasts spare their young. How vile… how heartless!”
From their youth, he and the Crown Prince had fought tooth and nail against Luo Jingfeng, only to have the Emperor stab them in the back once the Luo family’s power was seized.
All they had wanted was to serve their country and ease the Emperor’s burdens.
And what had their loyalty earned them?
—The Crown Prince’s untimely death.
—The Zong Family’s extermination.
Zong Zhao laughed until his tears ran dry. The cruelty of royalty knew no bounds.
He raised the vial and drank it in one gulp.
The bottle shattered against the ground.
Eunuch Huang knelt, kowtowing as he wept. “This old servant… bids farewell to General Zong.”
Zong Zhao was dead.
At twenty-six, after three years back in the Capital City, he had been too consumed with helping the Crown Prince dismantle the Luo family to avenge Zong Yan.
But when he opened his eyes again—
He was back at twenty-three, waking from a seven-year coma.
The same dilapidated hut. The same old man cackling. “You’re awake! Hah! My skills truly are peerless—even a man on death’s door couldn’t escape me! A divine physician indeed!”
The same words.
He had heard them before.
Zong Zhao looked down at his body, the pain searing through him, the voice ringing in his ears.
He knew with terrifying clarity: He had been reborn.
Reborn three years earlier, before his return to the Capital City.
“Feng Qinglai?” The man who had saved him was the legendary poison master. Back then, he had rushed back to the Capital City after a mere thanks, unaware that this very man had created the untraceable poison killing the Crown Prince.
Feng Qinglai blinked. “You know me?”
Zong Zhao’s voice was steel. “Did you once create a poison—mild doses weaken the body, causing fatigue, coughing blood, inability to train; heavy doses kill instantly?”
Feng Qinglai gasped. “I did! But how do you know? I only gave it to one man, someone of the highest standing—ordinary folk would never—”
Zong Zhao’s teeth ground together. “He used it on the Crown Prince!”
Feng Qinglai: “!!! That bastard!!”
The poison master was a man of principles. To think his creation had been turned against the Crown Prince—the people’s beloved heir!
Feng Qinglai taught Zong Zhao the antidote’s acupuncture method and sent him to gather rare herbs for the cure.
Zong Zhao wrote home, instructing his family to find Yan Suxue in the slums for Zong Yan. A carrier pigeon would reach them faster than he could return. In his past life, they had arrived too late—Yan Suxue had already perished there.
This time, knowing her location in advance, there was still hope.
At the letter’s end, he thought of Xu Wan.
She hadn’t yet married Chen Yunyu. He could still save her from that misery. But… he remembered how his last life had ended. If he failed again, she would die with him.
Zong Zhao hesitated—and left those words unwritten.
Once the letter was sent, he resolved not to return yet. He would stay and find the antidote for the Crown Prince.
Half a year passed. Winter approached.
Soon, Duke Jin's Manor would host its plum blossom banquet, where Chen Yunyu would fall for Xu Wan at first sight. The Chen family would propose, and she would marry him—only to suffer abuse, divorce, disownment, and destitution.
Zong Zhao had never felt such desperation. Having failed once, he didn’t know if he could win this time.
So he began to plan—how to save the Crown Prince, the Zong Family, everyone.
And then, like an echo from the past, Zong Jincheng’s voice whispered in his ear:
“Father… I want to help. I want us all to live.”
The solution that had eluded Zong Zhao suddenly became clear. Since the Emperor was the mastermind behind it all, he would join forces with Luo Jingfeng to support Zong Jincheng’s rise to power and save everyone. Only this way could they win.
As for Xu Wan…
Would she be willing to marry a man who had been missing for years?
With uncertainty weighing on his heart, Zong Zhao penned a second letter:
"Father, urgent matters keep me from returning to the Capital City for now. However, my heart belongs to a woman—Xu Wan, the eldest daughter of the Minister of Justice’s household. I humbly ask you and Mother to seek her hand in marriage on my behalf. Should the union be granted, I beg you to treat her with kindness and entrust Zong Jincheng to her care, raising him to be a man of virtue."
