As he lay dying.
A single sentence surfaced in his mind.
Life is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.
That wasn't right.
Du Youqian struggled to turn his neck. Through aged eyes that could only perceive vague blurs of light, he looked at the wives, concubines, children, and grandchildren gathered at his bedside, along with his closest disciples.
Some were secretly shedding tears, others were forcing smiles. Some covered their faces to weep, while others knelt on the floor, their shoulders trembling.
Eighty long years had passed since he had transmigrated into this world.
He was a scholar from a young age and became famous in his youth. In the first half of his life, he wielded power over the entire nation—or, to be precise, over the entire Wu Kingdom. In the second half, he was one of the wealthiest men in the land.
He had wives and concubines in droves, and his halls were filled with children and grandchildren.
Moreover, having lived two lives, he understood how precious family was. He had diligently nurtured his relationships, both romantic and familial, and used modern methods to educate his children.
As a result, his large family was harmonious and supportive of one another.
There was none of the selfishness, cold-heartedness, chaos, or even outright hostility so common among other great houses.
'A life like this... surely it couldn't be called meaningless, could it?'
But from another perspective, he knew this world had immortals. Yet, after he had gone to great lengths to befriend the Immortal Masters serving as Tributors at the Court, he was judged to have no Spirit Root, making him unable to pursue Cultivation.
He was a transmigrator, yet he could not pursue a transcendent path.
Although this life had been epic, and he had enjoyed all the glory and wealth one could imagine.
In the end... it was a deep, lingering regret.
His consciousness gradually sank into a silent, breathless darkness.
Suddenly, a speck of light appeared in the darkness.
Light and shadow intertwined, bleeding into one another, forming a montage of his life.
Scene after scene flashed by, coming and going in an instant.
His youth, full of a scholar's spirit, vibrant with ambition.
Passing the imperial exams with highest honors, at the pinnacle of his life.
His wedding night, his beautiful bride languid in his arms.
Mastering the art of worldly affairs, seeing through the ways of the world.
Rising steadily through the ranks to wield power over the nation.
The kingdom on the brink of collapse, and he, tasked to save it in its moment of peril.
Repelling the iron tide of invaders, keeping the homeland safe and sound.
Retiring gracefully at the peak of his power, his students and protégés spread across the land.
The most beautiful women in the land, all brought into his chambers.
His halls filled with descendants, his life blessed with fortune and longevity.
Though his body perished, his name would be immortal, echoing through the ages.
Evaluation: A Class.
Reward: 5 points of Spirit Root.
Remember:
Only those who live out their natural lifespan may be reincarnated; a violent death bars one from the cycle of Reincarnation.
Before the age of eighteen, you will be blessed with luck, turning any calamity into a blessing. At the age of eighteen, you will surely pierce the Mystery of the Womb.
O, soul, return!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Young Master, Young Master!"
Fang Zhongying startled awake from a state between sleep and wakefulness. By the flickering candlelight, he saw the young maidservant, Ah Zhi, her fair face slightly flushed.
"Young Master," Ah Zhi said, seeing his eyes gradually focus, "your mother asks that you get some rest. You're heading to the capital for the examinations tomorrow."
"The examinations?"
'Didn't I already pass? I was named the top scholar and served as a powerful minister for half my life, wasn't I?'
Scene after scene flashed before his eyes.
The experiences of his past life and his current one intertwined and overlapped.
For a moment, he was completely dazed.
Was he Zhuangzi dreaming he was a butterfly?
Or a butterfly dreaming it was Zhuangzi?
'Ah, I am Fang Zhongying, but I am also Du Youqian. This body has just turned eighteen, and I have pierced the Mystery of the Womb, awakening my past-life memories.'
'In this life, I was born into wealth, still gifted and intelligent, and have loved reading since childhood. At only eighteen, I have already passed the examinations to become a Scholar. I'm a young genius whose fame has spread across several provinces. Tomorrow, I'm supposed to head to the capital for the higher exams, with a high chance of passing with flying colors and bringing glory to my ancestors.'
As he sorted through his memories, Du Youqian's eyes cleared, and a faint smile touched his lips.
'Why would I even bother with the exams?'
He thought of the regrets from his past life, and then of the voice he'd heard just before entering the cycle of Reincarnation.
'That voice... it said my last life was evaluated as A Class, and I was given 5 points of Spirit Root. In this life, does that mean I can finally embark on the path of Cultivation?' Du Youqian's heart burned with excitement at the thought.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Second Young Master of the Fang Family had abandoned the pen for the sword.
「Several days later.」
The news swept through the county town like a hurricane.
Fang Zhongying, the prodigy of the Fang Family, a genius who had become a Scholar at the tender age of sixteen, had been scheduled to travel to the capital for the imperial examinations.
But then, for reasons no one could fathom, he had suddenly announced he was abandoning the examinations to stay home and practice Martial Arts, focusing on tempering his body.
Rumor had it that Second Young Master Fang was as much a genius at Martial Arts as he was at his studies, and his progress was astonishingly fast.
The town was abuzz with discussion. Some were mere gossips who loved a good spectacle, while others genuinely felt it was a pity for the Second Young Master Fang.
No matter how powerful one became, the path of Martial Arts ended with being just a Martial Artist. How could that possibly compare to the scholarly path?
All other pursuits are of a Lower Grade; only the life of a scholar is noble.
Still, it was his own business in the end, and no one could interfere. All anyone heard was that the master of the Fang Family had smashed several of his favorite teacups and vases within the span of a month.
A year later, even more shocking news broke: The Fang Family's Second Young Master, not content with the Martial Arts of the Mortal World, had set his heart on seeking immortals and inquiring about the Dao, and had since disappeared without a trace.
According to a certain Fang Family eldest young master—who wished to remain anonymous but spoke with great relish—the master of the Fang Family had, in a fit of rage, announced the severing of his father-son relationship and had driven the second young master from their home.
The Linjing Marquis's Mansion, which had an engagement with the Second Young Master Fang, also hastily began discussions with the Fang Family to annul the betrothal.
Some sighed, "A person shouldn't be too clever. If you're too clever, it's easy to get fixated on the wrong things."
Others gloated, "The Fang Family is rich but cruel. They never accumulated good karma, so it's no surprise they lost their most outstanding son."
Countless young maidens were also heartbroken. "Young Master Fang is so handsome and dashing, his literary talents so brilliant," they lamented. "We had thought, even if he took a wife, we could at least marry him as concubines. And even if we couldn't be his concubines, just catching a glimpse of him on the street might have eased our longing. But now, we'll never see him again. We can only meet him in our dreams."
Amidst the swirling rumors, Du Youqian had already slung a bag over his shoulder. Carrying the money and valuables his mother in this life had secretly given him, he set off on his journey with a carefree air.
As for the imperial examinations, he definitely wasn't going.