Transmigrated into a Grandpa, Embracing the Laid-Back Life

Days passed, one after another, in the damp darkness of the Imperial Prison’s depths.

Su Ming was held on the lowest level. Aside from being brought up for interrogation once a day to be asked trivial questions, all that remained was endless waiting.

Outside, Xu Qing was engaged in the most desperate running-around of his life.

First he went to the Ministry of Revenue and sought out his direct superior, Director Li.

He knelt before Director Li and placed all his salary and savings on the table.

“Director! Please! Su Ming is absolutely innocent! He… he wouldn’t dare kill even a single chicken! How could he collude with corrupt merchants and endanger military supplies!” Xu Qing’s voice was hoarse, his eyes bloodshot.

Director Li looked at the messy pile of silver and copper coins on the table, sighed, and pushed the money back.

“Xu Qing, you’re a promising young man, but you’re too young.” Director Li lowered his voice, a trace of helplessness on his face. “Do you think this is an investigation? This is a purge. What the Yongchang Marquis Manor wants is not the truth, but an explanation.”

“That military report was handed in by the Marquis himself. The Censorate’s censor was personally named by the Marquis’s men. If you try to save him now, you’ll make enemies of the entire military merit faction!”

“If you want to live, distance yourself from him. Begging now will only drag you down with him!”

Xu Qing was driven out by Director Li and walked numbly down the Ministry’s corridor.

He did not give up.

He went to the Hanlin Academy. He tried to see Reader Guo but was turned away.

He tried to petition those upright censors, but each response was the same—avoid and refuse to meet.

“Who wants to touch a scapegoat that the military merit faction has its eye on? Whoever does will get unlucky!”

Xu Qing finally understood that Su Ming had been made the sacrificial pawn in this political struggle.

He returned to his official lodging, stared at the lone lamp, and was filled with powerlessness and despair.

He remembered Su Ming’s words in the courtyard: “You and I should not meet privately anymore.”

Su Ming had foreseen everything long ago.

The last thing he could do was follow Su Ming’s instructions, pull himself out, and not become another leverage against Su Ming.

Meanwhile, Liu Wenyuan’s residence remained as silent as a tomb.

He did not even go to the Censorate to defend Su Ming.

He was simply waiting.

......

Ten days later.

A charcoal worker responsible for delivering fuel to the Imperial Prison stealthily approached Su Ming’s cell.

The charcoal worker looked gaunt. He stuffed a charred lump of coal under Su Ming’s stone bed.

“Compiler Su, this… this was ordered by Lord Liu for you. He told me to bring it so you can keep your fire burning, don’t freeze,” the worker said, then turned and hurried away as if pursued by ghosts.

Su Ming casually reached beneath the bed and his fingertips touched the chunk of coal.

Two tiny lines of characters were carved on its surface.

“Endure, preserve for useful days.”

“Northern Frontier, Blackwater Camp.”

Su Ming’s heart leapt.

Liu Wenyuan, indeed, had not abandoned him.

“Northern Frontier, Blackwater Camp,” Su Ming mouthed silently.

Liu Wenyuan was telling him that he had negotiated to the best of his ability and arranged for exile rather than execution, and had specified the exile destination—the Blackwater Camp in the Northern Frontier.

Blackwater Camp was the Great Xing Dynasty’s coldest, most dangerous forward duty posting.

Yet it was also the place where frontier warfare was most intense and where it was easiest to win military merits.

“This is giving you a chance to turn things around, disciple.” Lin Yu.

“Blackwater Camp should be the farthest exile they would accept, and it’s the most punitive place,” Su Ming analyzed.

“Exactly, Blackwater Camp is near the desert, where all kinds of people gather and martial arts flourish,” Lin Yu said. “Compared to the imperial capital—the mortal power center—it’s better for our Way of Survival development, though that means it’ll be harder to get news from cultivation sects.”

“A loss may turn out to be a gain,” Su Ming said.

He crushed the coal in his hand; the powder drifted away and left no trace.

Three days later.

Public opinion in the capital, fanned by the Yongchang Marquis Manor, erupted completely.

“Hanlin Academy compiler Su Ming colluded with corrupt merchants and embezzled military supplies!”

“Zhou Wenhai’s disciple is a parasite on the state!”

“Dozens of frontier soldiers bled to death because of inferior leather armor!”

Rumors and tavern storytellers vividly embellished Su Ming’s supposed “crimes.”

Su Ming, once an obscure child from a humble household, overnight became the city’s object of scorn.

In Wenyuan Pavilion, Qian Bin and the others discussed Su Ming’s fate each day with schadenfreude.

“I heard the Censorate has transferred the case to the Court of Judicial Review. At minimum he’ll be exiled three thousand li and sent as forced labor!”

“Hmph, people like him should be executed and displayed for public warning!”

Only Zhang Yiming, sitting in a corner and gazing at the snow-covered world outside, wore a complicated expression.

His petition with signatures was still held up at the Ministry of Personnel, while that “coward” he despised had secured a chance of exile for himself.

He did not know how Su Ming had done it, but he knew Su Ming’s “weakness” had protected him.

In the afternoon.

The gates of the Imperial Prison were opened again.

This time it was not for interrogation, but to announce a decree.

A palace eunuch in the fourth-rank official uniform, holding the golden imperial edict, entered the prison flanked by two guards.

The chief examiner and the officials from the Censorate immediately knelt, solemnly awaiting.

Su Ming was brought out of his cell and forced to kneel on the cold stone floor, head bowed, seeing only the hem of the fourth-rank officer’s robe.

The eunuch unfolded the edict and his thin voice rang out in the empty prison.

“By command of Heaven and the Emperor: Hanlin Academy compiler Su Ming, lax in study and careless in conduct, involved in the military supplies corruption case, allowing inferior leather armor to enter the army, an unforgivable crime!”

The eunuch’s voice rose sharply, carrying imperial authority.

“Strip Su Ming of his honor and office, exile him three thousand li, to the bitterly cold Northern Frontier ‘Blackwater Camp’ to perform military duty and atone for his crimes!”

“Let it be so!”

The Censorate officials kowtowed in unison.

Su Ming knelt, his body trembling slightly.

Exile! Blackwater Camp!

This was exactly the outcome Liu Wenyuan had hinted at in his note.

The edict gave the Yongchang Marquis Manor an explanation—removal and exile enough to intimidate petty schemers.

It also left the upright faction a sliver of hope—his life was spared, leaving a “useful body.”

Lin Yu snorted and summarized, “The Emperor plays this balancing act very cleverly. Frankly, in his eyes you’re expendable material, something to balance two rival factions. So, disciple, don’t fool yourself with talk of boundless imperial benevolence. The only ones to rely on are yourself and your teacher.”

Su Ming bowed deeply, his voice choked as he offered a ritualistic “thanks for the grace,” concealing every emotion beneath the gesture.

The eunuch tucked away the edict and glanced over Su Ming with an almost imperceptible complex expression.

“Su Ming, do you know that you surviving is a tremendous favor?”

“Student knows his crime, thanks His Majesty for his great grace, student will atone by meritorious service to repay this imperial benevolence,” Su Ming replied with utmost submissiveness.

“Hmph.” The eunuch said no more and turned to leave.

The prison officials exhaled with relief.

The case was closed; no one wanted to touch that hot potato anymore.

Su Ming was returned to his cell; his leg irons were still heavy.

“Seven days from now you will be escorted and depart. Prepare yourself well,” the chief examiner said coldly, then left with his men.

The cell fell back into darkness and silence.

Su Ming leaned against the wall and breathed out a long, ragged breath.

.......

Over the next seven days, two special visitors came to Su Ming’s cell.

The first was Liu Wenyuan.

He did not appear openly; instead, under the pretext of “Censorate interrogation,” Su Ming was taken to a quiet interrogation room.

Liu Wenyuan wore a plain robe and sat across the table. He looked at Su Ming with a faint, hard-to-notice approval in his eyes.

“You did well,” he said, his voice still cold but carrying a senior’s recognition.

“Student thanks Lord Liu for saving me,” Su Ming immediately rose and bowed deeply.

“No need to thank me,” Liu Wenyuan waved his hand. “This was the path your teacher laid for you long ago, and something you earned yourself.”

“You should understand the imperial will now,” Liu Wenyuan looked straight into Su Ming’s eyes. “You are both an abandoned pawn and a hidden pawn now. The Yongchang Marquis Manor will not let you go; they will do everything to make you die on the road to exile or on the battlefield at Blackwater Camp.”

“Your chance lies at Blackwater Camp.”

“It’s the frontier army—the military merit faction’s sphere of influence—but there the Marquis’s reach is weaker.”

“There will be people there who can help you.” Liu Wenyuan did not elaborate; he simply tapped the table three times with his finger.

“The only way you can save yourself is by military merits. Use battlefield achievements to wash away the stain on you so the Yongchang Marquis Manor dares not openly touch you.”

Liu Wenyuan rose, stepped over to Su Ming, and produced a palm-sized wooden box from his sleeve.

“What’s inside will be useful to you.”

Su Ming accepted the box with both hands; it felt warm, with a faint sandalwood scent.

“I will remember your instruction, Lord,” he said.

“Go,” Liu Wenyuan patted Su Ming’s shoulder, his eyes flashing with complexity. “Survive.”

Su Ming bowed again and left the interrogation room.

The second visitor was Xu Qing. Using a connection with an old jailer, he sneaked to the bars outside Su Ming’s cell. Fatigue and shame were written deeply on Xu Qing’s face.

“Brother Su!” he called softly through the iron bars.

“Brother Xu.” Su Ming looked at him and offered a smile.

“I… I’m sorry!” Xu Qing’s eyes reddened.

“Brother Xu, do not say that. I am going to the Northern Frontier; I don’t know when I will return. My parents and siblings at home will worry. I ask you to deliver two letters to my family,” Su Ming interrupted, his tone calm but solemn.

Xu Qing immediately nodded. “Brother Su, rest assured, I’ll take care of it! I will hand them over personally!”

Su Ming took from his breast two preprepared letters. The paper was coarse—the most unnoticeable scraps he could find in prison—and the handwriting was deliberately hurried and rough to simulate panic.

The first letter was to his parents and siblings.

It read: “Respected parents: Your unfilial son has offended the court and brought shame upon the family. I am deeply ashamed. I have been ordered to serve at the Northern Frontier with no foreseeable return. The capital is a place of controversy, do not stay. After receiving this letter, quickly sell off the family’s expendable goods and move the whole family to Qingshi Town, placing yourselves under Teacher Zhou’s care. Teacher Zhou is benevolent and will protect you. Do not cling to land and property; leave Su Family Village, change your name, and live in peace. When I win merit in the North and clear my name, I will return to reunite and serve you. Please take care and do not worry about me. Your unfilial son Su Ming, with tear-soaked obeisances.”

This letter, though seeming to arrange their future, secretly warned: “leave Su Family Village quickly,” “change your name,” signaling the danger and the need to stay away from the source of any investigation.

Entrusting his family to Zhou Wenhai was both a plea for shelter and a placing of gratitude and future hope upon Zhou’s shoulders.

The second letter was a secret missive to his teacher, Zhou Wenhai.

Its wording was more oblique, using many references and coded phrases understood only between master and disciple.

“Student Ming kowtows and prostrates before Master: Your foolish student failed to repay your kindness and fell into captivity, dragging disgrace upon the sect, a crime deserving death. I am now bound for Blackwater Camp; I go to certain peril, yet I shall not forget Master’s teaching to ‘harmonize with the light, blend with the dust, unfurl and furl with the times.’ The northern land’s hardships are also a chance for tempering. If heaven shows mercy, in three years or five I will seek recompense. I beg Master to watch over the old and weak at home. Even if I die, I shall feel deep gratitude beyond the grave. Taken by sorrow in haste, I do not know what more to say. Your student Ming bows again.”

Xu Qing carefully pocketed the two letters, face grave. “Brother Su, the letters are safe with me! I will take care of Uncle and Aunt and Teacher Zhou!” Then he pushed a heavy cloth pouch through the bars.

“This is all the silver I could gather. You’ll need money on the road to make arrangements. I also greased the palm of a deputy officer in the escort. He agreed to look after you a bit on the way, but… it may not help much. The escort is a frontier military transport; they are fierce—be careful,” Xu Qing’s voice trembled.

Su Ming took the pouch and felt the weight of the coins inside; he knew that sum could not have come from his official pay alone, and his chest warmed.

“Brother Xu, thank you. You did well,” Su Ming said. “Since you weren’t implicated, you may be more helpful to me in the future. Listen: after I leave, you must secure your footing at the Ministry of Revenue. Your talent will have the greatest effect there.”

“I will! I will for sure!” Xu Qing nodded emphatically.

“Don’t worry—I’m tough.”

Xu Qing said no more. He bowed deeply to Su Ming and left.

Su Ming watched his silhouette disappear into the darkness and stowed the pouch away.

He opened the wooden box Liu Wenyuan had given him. Inside lay two items: a piece of silk covered in tiny handwriting, and a small bottle of dark green ointment that smelled of fresh herbs.

“What’s written on the silk?” Lin Yu asked.

“This is disguise ointment,” Su Ming examined it carefully. “It can temporarily change one’s appearance and scent—excellent for escape!”