Why Fight for Power When You Can Live an Easy Life?
[Top-Level Slacker VS Cold-Faced God of War] Feng Jingzhe: Thanks for the invitation. I’ve just transmigrated into a useless viscount, and my life goal is to become the greatest female war god of Great Wei—one who holds the Tiger Tally in hand! An imperial marriage decree? Just a cheap trick to strip me of my military power! Poisoned wine? Honey traps from the martial world? Mockery from the court officials? Feng Jingzhe: Lying flat. (Inner monologue: You people have no idea what it means when a max-level boss pretends to be a rookie!) The heavier the wound, the more explosive the power? Hidden private armies in Bashu? Doesn’t matter—sounds delicious! What? The wretched emperor wants to kill my wife? Feng Jingzhe, on the brink of death, sits up in shock: “Wait… Are you really pushing me this far?!” I’m done playing. I’ll take my wife back to Bashu and retire. But then, foreign invaders threaten Huaxia! Loyal ministers and fierce generals kneel across the mountains: “My lord! Please, don’t lie flat any longer. We can’t chew through this!” Feng Jingzhe gazes at the rising smoke of war, sighs, and draws her blade: “Fine… Let’s trade this soft life for an iron-clad empire!”
Why Fight for Power When You Can Live an Easy Life?
In the twenty-fourth year of the Tianqi era, on the seventeenth day of the first month, the day of Awakening of Insects, when the first thunder of spring rumbles and all things come to life...
Bang—
The rickety door was kicked open with force, and the sudden clamor jolted Feng Jingzhe awake from his stupor on the bed.
The moment he opened his eyes, he was greeted by four fierce and menacing faces. The four men wore blue uniforms with black trim and red boots—clearly the attire of yamen constables.
“Feng Jingzhe, of Sweetwater Alley on the southern bank of the Bian River, Widow Wang has accused you of breaking into her home last night and violating her. We are here by order of the county magistrate to arrest you and bring you to trial…”
Before the words had fully landed, the still-dazed Feng Jingzhe was yanked violently out of bed. Shackles were snapped onto his wrists and ankles, and he was dragged outside.
Feng Jingzhe—the name was correct, but why did the room look so strange? Was he roleplaying some murder mystery script? That made no sense! Last night, he’d still been weaving through the rainforest, locked in a deadly game with those damned Seals; how had he suddenly ended up in this bizarre scenario…?
As a king of special operations, Feng Jingzhe’s instincts screamed for him to subdue the four men in front of him.
But—
The moment he tried to move, his muscles cramped and spasmed, pain shooting through his body and forcing sharp, ragged breaths from his throat. He couldn’t even stand, much less fight.
“Damn,
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