Daily Life of a Villain at Work [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 84

Chapter 84: The Twelfth Day of Being an Evil Spirit

The only woman to be appointed Generalissimo as a princess, she led an army for six years to repel the barbarians. Upon her victorious return, she was specially enfeoffed as a Marquis and granted the exceptional privilege of appearing alongside the civil and military officials during the Grand Imperial Court.

The only regret was that this princess lived a short life; she passed away in her prime just five years after returning from the campaign.

According to historical records, she succumbed to an outbreak of various lingering ailments and was eventually buried with full military honors by special imperial decree.

From existing historical data, scholars analyzed that there were two reasons why she was break-neckly appointed as Generalissimo. First, the court had no one else to use—the veteran generals who had helped the late Emperor build the empire were either deceased or withered with age. Second, the new Emperor, who had been on the throne for less than three years, lacked the ability to suppress the officials. Appointing anyone else as general might have destabilized his throne; the safest choice was to let his elder sister, born of the same mother, hold the military power.

Yet, it was laughable that despite such brilliant military achievements, her personal name was never left in the history books. She was known only as Princess Zhaoping, the third daughter of the founding Emperor.

Records only mentioned she was pampered from birth and exceptionally favored by both the founding Emperor and her younger brother, the new Emperor. Meanwhile, certain wastes who did nothing but eat, drink, and play—simply because they were princes—had full names recorded, and their lineages could be traced for generations.

Because she lived during the early period of the dynasty and a subsequent Emperor did a poor job of preserving records, much of the useful historical material became blurred, leading to the creation of two versions of history: the Old and the New.

The Old version seemed relatively authentic, with objective evaluations affirming Princess Zhaoping’s contributions and her vital role in the dynasty’s survival. The New version, however, influenced by the era in which it was compiled, sought to further imprison women. It held much contempt for Princess Zhaoping, attributing all her victories to her subordinate generals. It even blamed her early death on an unrequited love for a nobleman who already had a wife—claiming she died of a broken heart before reaching thirty.

“So, this is how the later histories recorded me?” Princess Zhaoping laughed. Her bright features combined with her flamboyant smile made her look dazzlingly radiant.

“I did indeed have someone I loved but could not have. But it wasn’t a son of a noble family; it was a daughter of a noble family—my younger brother’s wife, who passed away early,” Princess Zhaoping said, her smile fading.

“My Imperial Father did indeed preserve many works from the previous dynasty. He gave some to me, and they are among my funerary objects.”

“I am willing to donate the books to certain people, but I want you to find my sister-in-law and bring her to me.”

There were many obsessions that had kept Princess Zhaoping from dissipating until now: the position of Crown Princess lost due to her gender; military merits that would have earned a prince a Kingship but only got her a simple Marquisate; and her “dear brother” using a military burial to lightly erase the majority of her achievements…

Time had diluted many of her obsessions. She knew that what was missed was missed, and there was no chance for redemption. But the person she once loved was different. Such a good person would surely have many future lives; she wanted a second chance.

“You think too highly of me. I don’t have the ability to snatch someone from the Underworld,” Wen Qingyun said. Out of curiosity, she appeared exceptionally patient. “Is there any medium I can use to find her?”

Princess Zhaoping said nothing. She turned toward her vast pile of funerary objects and picked out a smooth, red jade pendant. “She gave this to me. Can this count as a medium?”

Wen Qingyun was about to say no, but as soon as she held it, she realized the jade wasn’t red jadeite; it had been stained red over time by blood.

“Do you have her birth chart?” Wen Qingyun asked.

Finding people wasn’t her specialty, but she could get someone who knew the trade to help.

“I do,” Princess Zhaoping nodded, a flicker of hope rising in her eyes. The reason Zhaoping refused to communicate with living Taoists was that she knew her request wouldn’t be understood by them. Only a fellow ghost remaining due to obsession could possibly understand her thoughts.

Her luck was good; she had met a peer she could talk to. Wen Qingyun noted the birth chart and took the pendant.

As she prepared to leave, Wen Qingyun suddenly spoke, “May I ask for the Princess’s personal name?”

Princess Zhaoping smiled. “My surname is Li. As for my name, my Father gave me one, but I prefer the one my Mother gave me. You may call me Changping. Li Changping.”

“Li Changping,” Wen Qingyun said slowly. “Glad to meet you. I am Wen Qingyun.”

…

After hearing the request relayed by Wen Qingyun, Qin Mian felt a massive headache coming on.

A person from over a thousand years ago? If she had been reincarnating until now, she’d have had a dozen new lives, wouldn’t she? How could they possibly rekindle an old flame? Even if they could, how was she supposed to find one person in a sea of millions? With an expired birth chart and a piece of blood jade? Could this actually work?

“I can’t make the decision on this. I need some time to determine if we can do it,” Qin Mian said, not making any promises lightly.

“Then go determine it. She is very willing to give you time. However, the sooner some artifacts are protected, the better. I shouldn’t need to emphasize that, right?” Wen Qingyun smiled, her tone sounding not the least bit threatening.

Qin Mian maintained her smile. She could hear everything Wen Qingyun left unsaid. “I will give you a definite answer in three days. But even if there’s a way, finding someone will take a lot of time under current circumstances.”

Wen Qingyun nodded. “Find me a hotel nearby. I’ll wait for you.”

Three days passed quickly. Before Wen Qingyun could fully develop the joy of remotely directing Chu Yu to do work, Qin Mian returned with an answer.

“We can do it, but it will take at least three months,” Qin Mian said. “This process will consume significant manpower and resources. If you want the cooperation of the relevant departments, a vague promise isn’t enough.”

“How much do they want?” Wen Qingyun asked. she was just the messenger and wouldn’t intervene in the negotiations.

“One hundred cultural relics,” Qin Mian said. “An ancient book can be counted as one relic.”

“According to your theory, a single copper coin could also be a relic?” Wen Qingyun countered.

A trace of helplessness flashed in Qin Mian’s eyes. “It could, but if it’s all copper coins, it’s hard to say if the departments will feel the ‘sincerity’.”

Wen Qingyun smiled and said nothing, quickly floating back inside to inform Li Changping.

Li Changping didn’t react much. She directly opened a chest and glanced at the items preserved within. Wen Qingyun looked over; the large chest was full of books. Because of the high-quality materials used, they hadn’t suffered much damage even after a thousand years.

“Give them this chest of things. For the rest, I will only accept negotiations after I see the person,” Li Changping said. Her expression wasn’t one of unhappiness, but rather a strange sort of anticipation.

Inside the tomb, Wen Qingyun hadn’t understood why, but when she saw the records within these ancient texts, she felt a similar anticipation.

The books in the chest were indeed incredibly valuable. They contained not only imperial edicts but also many praises of Princess Zhaoping from civil and military officials, scholars, and beauties. Poetry made up a large portion, and many works were by extremely famous poets. Just by looking at the diction, one could tell there were no issues with the signatures.

These were fascinating things. Once published, they would be a heavy blow to those who promoted the New history books, potentially overturning all their current research topics. History is written by later generations, whereas these poems were contemporary evaluations of Princess Zhaoping. In terms of authenticity, these items were definitely more reliable.

The question was: would this authentic history be promoted? When those people realized Princess Zhaoping was once the idol of their own idols, would they still say she was just a puppet general pushed forward to consolidate imperial power? Would those accustomed to suppressing women’s achievements and stepping on women to climb higher admit these facts?

…

Wen Qingyun didn’t have the patience to wait there for three months. After transferring the items, she took her ID and caught a flight home.

The valid ID allowed Wen Qingyun to have an independent SIM card and bank card. She felt the former was unnecessary, but since the bank card required a phone number, she got one anyway. The use for the bank card was obvious: to let those who needed her help deposit money. Wen Qingyun accepted all comers.

She had enough money to spend, but that didn’t stop her from getting more. She didn’t deny her greed and had no intention of restraining it.

The plane landed smoothly. Wen Qingyun precisely locked onto her mother and Chu Yu in the crowd at the arrivals hall, then rushed forward with a smile. After giving her mother a hug, Wen Qingyun embraced Chu Yu. Before Chu Yu could even speak a greeting, Wen Qingyun bit her ear.

This caused Chu Yu to swallow her words of concern, her expression turning helpless. “This is the airport lobby, don’t fool around,” Chu Yu said. “Auntie is still here.”

The second half of the sentence was more effective than the first. Wen Qingyun smiled, first handing her ID to her mother for admiration, then leading the two of them out for a big meal.

Compared to the convenience of legal documents, Wen Qingyun valued the milestone-like significance behind them more. If they could issue her an ID today and recognize her status, would they issue one to Wen Eighteen tomorrow? If they tacitly accepted the existence of ghosts today, would they eventually accept using ghosts to interrogate criminals and eliminate the “tumors” sucking the nation’s luck, just as they accepted the Xuanmen’s special way of doing things?

After eating and drinking their fill and returning home, Wen Qingyun shared what she had seen and heard over the past few days. This gave Wen’s mother and Chu Yu, who had both heard of Princess Zhaoping, many fresh perspectives.

For instance, the founding Emperor had actually considered appointing his daughter—who was brilliant in intelligence, strategy, martial arts, and civil governance—as the heir. Unfortunately, all the officials were men, and they were unwilling to accept a woman ruling over them. This led to Li Changping’s “dear brother” gaining the support of the officials, forcing the founding Emperor to name him Crown Prince. This also foreshadowed the later Crown Prince’s inability to suppress the officials after ascending the throne. If it hadn’t been for her heart’s beloved being the Empress, Li Changping wouldn’t have been so devoted.

Li Changping could have easily “kept the son and removed the father” after her brother was sidelined as a puppet, supporting a toddler as the new Emperor while ruling behind the curtain as the Grand Princess.

“A very touching sentiment, but if it were me, I’d choose the latter. If I were the Emperor whose word was law, I could naturally and openly marry the former Empress as my current Empress.” In front of her family, Wen Qingyun expressed her true thoughts without reservation.

“I don’t think it was entirely because of love; perhaps there was also affection for her younger brother from the same mother,” Chu Yu analyzed. “Women of that era were born with heavy shackles. Without the perfect alignment of time, place, and people, it was very hard to escape the chains of the era.”

Wen Qingyun remained noncommittal. No struggle for the throne was ever bloodless. From Wen Qingyun’s perspective, Li Changping still couldn’t avoid being influenced by those ministers, leading her to doubt her own abilities. What if a ruler is ruthless? As long as they create a golden age of peace, later generations will naturally vindicate them. If a brother is a threat, then solve the brother, leaving only one person in the Emperor’s direct bloodline.

If I can’t have it in the end, then destroy it completely.

…

Just as Wen Qingyun expected, when the experts learned some of the historical truths, their first reaction was denial. How could the things recorded in the New history be nonsense! They were compiled by great contemporary scholars! How could a mere woman like Princess Zhaoping capture and kill opposing generals single-handedly on the battlefield!

If Princess Zhaoping were truly as powerful as described in these poems, what did that make them, the proponents of the New history?

“What, you’d rather believe the guesses of later generations than the records of contemporary poetry?”

“Accept reality. This literary giant was a famously tough bone; he wasn’t even that reverent when writing poems for the Emperor. If they were truly after empty fame, why didn’t they praise the Emperor?”

“What if these are all fabrications! Maybe they were made to make the Princess happy after her death, so everyone was asked to ghostwrite!”

“Nonsense! How did you become a Dean? Don’t you know this poet died before Princess Zhaoping? Princess Zhaoping passed away due to illness two years after his death!”

“I told you long ago, the New history is absolute rubbish. The so-called ‘great scholars’ were just serving the Emperor of that time, deliberately writing history the Emperor wanted to see!”

“How dare you insult a great scholar! Do you know how high his literary achievements are!”

“I’ll insult him if I want to! Writing history isn’t writing a play—you can’t just write whatever you want. Writing history is recording reality, documenting everything that happened!”

The historians argued among themselves. Considering Princess Zhaoping still had many precious artifacts in her hands, the faction supporting the Old history eventually won out. Those hundred-plus never-before-seen volumes of poetry and prose were carved up by these people, each taking some to write papers and build their own credentials.

As the news was announced and papers published, some internet trolls who belittled Princess Zhaoping and praised the new Emperor began to break down. they started arguing that these history professors were talking nonsense and that these were just “unofficial histories.” Their reactions were like an allergic response, eventually devolving into brainless attacks, trying to paint Princess Zhaoping as a love-brain, a credit-stealing glory-hound, and a tyrannical monster in the eyes of the uninformed.

The scale was so wide that Wen Qingyun even saw these videos while surfing the net at night. Watching these laughable videos, the smile on Wen Qingyun’s face slowly vanished. She forwarded them directly to Qin Mian with one click.

[Wen Qingyun: To be honest, I quite admire Li Changping. If you can’t handle the internet trolls, I can do it for free.]

[Qin Mian: Received. We will arrange for someone to handle it immediately.]

Qin Mian didn’t need to ask; she knew Wen Qingyun’s “handling” would be sufficiently simple and brutal. Just like that family that died mysteriously two days ago—falsely claiming they had “taken in” a lost female Master’s graduate for thirteen years, driving her insane while having a twelve-year-old son with her. Certain local departments hadn’t transitioned from the old mindset to the new; it was clearly human trafficking, illegal imprisonment, and coercion, yet they used “taking in” to whitewash the situation.

So, even though the place where it happened wasn’t under Wen Qingyun’s jurisdiction… who asked this future Ghost Emperor to enjoy surfing the web? She was disgusted after seeing it and sent the “adopting” family’s souls straight back to the Underworld. Even the personnel involved in handling the case ended up in the hospital after car accidents one by one. It scared the higher-level leaders so much they nearly went to a Taoist temple for “quiet cultivation,” creating quite a joke.

[Wen Qingyun: How is the progress on finding the person? One-third of the three months has passed.]

[Qin Mian: We’ve narrowed down the gender and age range. Personnel screening is underway.]

[Qin Mian: The workload for this is massive. It’s expected to take another month to select candidates who meet all the criteria and then rule them out one by one.]

[Wen Qingyun: Can you tell me the current info?]

[Qin Mian: Female in this life, age between twenty-one and thirty-two.]

[Wen Qingyun: Decent news. Good luck.]

[Qin Mian: From your lips to God’s ears.]

After ending the chat, a trace of helplessness flashed in Qin Mian’s eyes. However, when she contacted certain departments, she was exceptionally emboldened.

“If you don’t want casualties numbering over a thousand nationwide, tell those people to control the dogs they’ve raised. I don’t care about academic disputes, and I can’t be bothered with those people’s inexplicable self-esteem. If the accounts aren’t banned within three days and they aren’t made to realize the seriousness of talking nonsense, then let their families prepare coffins for them.”

After hanging up, Qin Mian breathed a long sigh of relief, her mood index rising at least twenty points. Wen Qingyun was living too well; if she could also insult everyone without reservation, she’d surely live twenty years longer!

…

“Chu Yu.” Wen Qingyun put down her phone and called out.

“What is it?” Chu Yu, who was reading, instinctively looked up.

“If it were the current you meeting the original me, what would you do?” Wen Qingyun asked.

Chu Yu’s hand paused as she turned a page, her mind traveling back to her former self. How had she treated Wen Qingyun? Upon sensing the overly obvious scent of blood and killing intent, she had unhesitatingly pulled out a thunder talisman and thrown it. At the time, she was very confident, firmly believing Wen Qingyun was an evil ghost. She felt it was her duty to kill her, even if it meant dying together.

But in reality? It was true Wen Qingyun had killed people, but she killed wicked people who were destined for hell anyway. Not only that, hundreds of lost souls had found peace because of her.

“I would ask you if you are willing to be transcended. I would send you into reincarnation,” Chu Yu said truthfully. Her current self wouldn’t start by shouting and killing, but she would definitely not let a ghost who had decapitated seventy-two people in one breath stay in the world. Too dangerous. Such a ghost was far too dangerous for other ordinary people.

“Mm-hmm?” Wen Qingyun arched an eyebrow, sitting cross-legged on the sofa. “I am not satisfied with that answer.”

“But that is what I would actually do,” Chu Yu emphasized. She didn’t like lying, especially not to Wen Qingyun.

“Are you sure? If you don’t change your tune, I will punish you,” Wen Qingyun said, her gaze seemingly casually falling on the lower drawer of the nightstand.

Chu Yu’s heart tightened, but she still didn’t change her original statement. “Sure. If the current me met the original you, I would find a way to send you to the Underworld to be reborn.”

Wen Qingyun smiled, got up from the sofa, and squeezed onto a single armchair with Chu Yu. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll be unhappy?”

Chu Yu slowly relaxed her body. “Aren’t you often unhappy for various reasons anyway?”

Wen Qingyun frowned, then started thinking. Was she really unhappy that often? Well, if only referring to when she was in front of Chu Yu, she did seem “unhappy” every other day, and then she’d tease her to make herself happy. Fine, Wen Qingyun admitted it; she just liked being “angry” and “unhappy” in front of Chu Yu.

“Go change into that new outfit I bought,” Wen Qingyun said, preparing to make herself happy.

“New one?” Chu Yu frowned. “Which one?”

“Did I buy a lot of outfits?” Wen Qingyun countered. She only remembered buying a maid outfit… and maybe a knight outfit… and it seemed like there was a one-piece cat pajama.

“The maid one,” Wen Qingyun said seriously. “Your punishment is to wear the maid outfit tonight, and tomorrow morning too.”

Chu Yu: “…” She wasn’t sure if it was her imagination, but Wen Qingyun seemed to be getting more and more relaxed around her, saying things without overthinking.

“Tomorrow you and I are going to help Auntie organize stock. Are you sure?” Chu Yu spoke patiently, waiting for Wen Qingyun to change her mind.

Wen Qingyun: “Fine. Then just tonight. You must serve me as a maid.”

“Then should I get you that outfit to cos as a vampire?” Chu Yu was perfectly calm. This kind of dress-up game wasn’t the first time they’d played. Since being pressed against a wall while wearing her Taoist robes once, Chu Yu’s bottom line had become lower and lower—in certain matters, she had almost no bottom line left.

“That works too.” Wen Qingyun didn’t object. Since they were doing roleplay, might as well go all out.

…

“Why did you bring hot water over?”

“Don’t you need me to serve you? Auntie said you should soak your feet more.”

“Didn’t Mom say that to you? I even saw Mom give you a herbal sachet.”

“So you remember. Then I’ll soak my feet first.”

“…Give me a massage after you’re done. Full body. Don’t skip a single spot.”

“I learned acupuncture from books. Do you want to experience it while we’re at it?”

“Ha? Me as your guinea pig? Dream on.”

“If my technique is good enough, maybe I can give Auntie some acupuncture. Combined with some herbs, it could improve her health a lot.”

“…Just this once. Not to be repeated.”

“Good. I’ll try my best to learn it in one go.”

“Not ‘try your best.’ It’s a ‘must’!”