How Can I Yield to the Traitor! - Chapter 1

Thunder rumbled across the heavens, the aftershocks vibrating through the wilderness like the low growl of a gargantuan beast.

Looking up, dark clouds churned and retreated toward the horizon as a sharp wind, carrying the metallic scent of rain, whipped against his face. Most of the sky was smothered by heavy, ink-colored clouds, within which muffled thunder rolled it sounded like ten thousand wronged souls beating war drums above the layer of mist.

Xie Gebai gazed toward the capital of Great Qi, his eyes burning with a fire that seemed capable of reducing the city to ash. This was the source of his blood-deep feud, the place he had vowed to trample underfoot after enduring over a decade of humiliation and hardship.

The Xie family had once been a great clan of the Chu lands, a prestigious lineage of high officials for four generations. But now, he was the only one left standing, letting the memories of the past gnaw at his heart like poisonous snakes.

He still remembered his grandfather kneeling before the ancestral temple, weeping until his heart broke, yet unable to cry back the fading fortune of the Chu Kingdom. The great fire of the Gui-Mao year had consumed the last of Chu’s vitality. The iron hooves of the Qi army had crushed the morning bells of the capital, and the Chu flag had fallen dejectedly into the flames.

He had escaped through a secret passage under the desperate protection of his old guards. Looking back, the entire city was bleeding. The streets, once filled with endless songs and music, were left with nothing but the wails of the citizens and the arrogant laughter of the Qi soldiers.

Those tragic scenes were branded into his soul. Every sleepless night, he could hear his clansmen’s final cries within the sea of fire. This blood-feud had long since merged with his marrow; if he did not drink the blood of his enemies, how could he face the thousands of Chu people in the afterlife?

At this moment, his armor was still splashed with the foul blood of a Qi general he had slain during the siege. The warm, viscous sensation felt as if it were burning through his plate. He gripped the hilt of the sword at his waist tightly, as if pouring ten years of hatred into the blade.

Familiar footsteps approached from behind. It was Lu Xun.

Xie Gebai closed his eyes, allowing the man to wipe the bloodstains from his armor. In this brief moment of silence, he could almost hear the murderous intent boiling in his chest. He had endured for over ten years; he could wait a little longer.

“Chenyan,” he said, his voice raspy, every word sounding as if it were being crushed between his teeth. “I have finally fought my way here. I will make the Qi royal family pay their debt in blood.”

Lu Xun’s hand gently stroked his back through the cold armor, just as he had done during every moment over the years when Xie Gebai was on the verge of collapse. Xie Gebai never asked why Lu Xun helped him. On this road of vengeance, he had long ago sacrificed everything to his dead country and family. Now that the capital was before him, he could almost smell the sweet scent of his enemy’s blood.

That scalding hatred surged through his veins, tinting the world before his eyes in a shade of crimson.

Above the royal city, the black clouds were like iron. Xie Gebai tilted his head and drained the last of the strong liquor from his flask, letting the spice burn his throat. The undried blood on his armor turned a dark red. As the wind blew the scent of gore toward him, he took a deep breath, as if etching the smell into his lungs.

“General, the men are ready and awaiting orders.”

When the personal guard arrived to report, Xie Gebai was wiping his blade. His finger paused. The edge of the sword reflected the flickering flames in his eyes. A sword sharpened for ten years; today, the frost-bright blade would be tested. He had waited too long for the Qi King’s head.

“Pass the order: capture the King of Qi alive,” he said, his voice grinding like sandpaper. “As for the rest of the royal family… execute them all on sight.”

A crack of thunder illuminated his burning features. Memories flooded back: the collapsing pillars of the Chu Palace, his mother’s blood-stained sleeve as she pushed him into the secret passage, and the Qi-style halberd that had pierced his grandfather’s chest…

“General.”

A cold voice spoke. Xie Gebai snapped back to reality to see Lu Xun standing in the rain, holding an umbrella. The hem of his plain white robe was untainted by a single speck of mud, looking as if this corpse-strewn battlefield had nothing to do with him.

“Chenyan, you’ve come at the right time.” Xie Gebai grinned, revealing bone-white teeth. “Watch me as I take that old dog, the King of Qi…”

“The latest battle report.” Lu Xun handed over a bamboo scroll. “The King of Qi fled ten days ago. Before leaving, he abdicated the throne. The one currently reigning is his son, Qi Zhan, who is only eighteen.”

Xie Gebai’s smile froze. The bamboo scroll snapped in two in his palm. “Even a tiger doesn’t eat its cubs. That old bastard really is a piece of work.”

“No matter. A father’s debt is a son’s burden; it is only natural.” He tossed aside the broken scroll and strode toward his warhorse. “Pass my command: sack the city for three days!”

“Wait.”

Lu Xun reached out and pressed down on the horse’s reins. Surprisingly, this seemingly frail scholar managed to make the raging Xie Gebai halt his horse.

“You’re stopping me?” Blood surged in Xie Gebai’s eyes.

Lu Xun did not answer, instead taking an object from his sleeve. Under the washing rain, Xie Gebai saw it was a broken piece of jade a token of the Chu Royal Family.

“This is…”

“Obtained from a spy in the Qi Palace.” Lu Xun did not want him to slaughter the capital. He lowered his voice so only the two of them could hear. “The youngest daughter of the King of Chu did not die back then. She is currently inside the royal city.”

A bolt of lightning struck, leaving Xie Gebai stunned as if he himself had been hit. He grabbed Lu Xun’s wrist. “What did you say?”

“If the order to sack the city stands, the jade and the stone will burn together.” Lu Xun looked him straight in the eye. “Does the General truly wish to personally kill the last blood relative of the Chu royal line?”

Xie Gebai’s Adam’s apple bobbed. The muscles beneath his armor were taut like a bowstring. In the curtain of rain, the two confronted each other like two unsheathed swords.

Finally, Xie Gebai let go.

“Order a change of route!” he barked through gritted teeth. “Target the palace directly. Capture Qi Zhan alive!”

Meanwhile, inside the Qi Royal Palace, our protagonist Qi Zhan had unfortunately just woken up after transmigrating.

“What the hell is going on…”

He looked down at the dragon robes he was wearing, then up at the palace decorations, and finally landed his gaze on a small eunuch who was kneeling below, wailing as if at a funeral.

“Stop crying… what’s the situation now?” Qi Zhan rubbed his throbbing forehead. “What was your name again?”

“This… this servant is Fu’an.” The little eunuch lifted a face blurred by tears. “Your Majesty, the rebel army is at the gates. What should we do?”

Qi Zhan waved a hand. “Wait. Tell me first—why are you the only one left in this palace?”

Fu’an sobbed. “Yesterday, Your Majesty said you would… die with the country. You told everyone to scatter.”

“And then?”

“Then everyone in the palace ran away to save their lives,” Fu’an stole a glance at Qi Zhan. “But Your Majesty fainted before you could commit suicide.”

Qi Zhan’s mouth twitched. Well, the original owner was quite honorable, knowing to dismiss the servants before dying. The problem was you should have actually finished the job! Why am I, a transmigrator, stuck picking up the pieces?

“I was just given the throne. Where is the previous King?” Qi Zhan remembered the crucial question.

Fu’an’s face turned even paler. “The previous King… ten days ago, he took Consort Li, the Prime Minister, and the elite Imperial Guards… and went south.”

“South?” Qi Zhan laughed from sheer anger. “He ran away!”

Qi Zhan felt it was ridiculous. He had just stayed up late reading a novel, only to wake up as a character in it and a very, very unlucky cannon fodder at that. The King of Qi, who was supposed to hang himself, had been replaced by him. Honestly, even transmigrating as a commoner would have been better than this.

Calling himself the King of Qi was a joke; he was just a scapegoat. His “cheap” father saw things going south and fled with his cronies and favorite consort, dumping the throne on him.

This was exactly like that meme: The boss ran away with his sister-in-law and left the debts behind! Except his father was worse than the boss in the meme at least that guy didn’t leave his son to pay with his life. To buy time for his escape, the old King truly spared no effort. Qi Zhan was impressed.

What was he supposed to do now?

He didn’t have a “Golden Finger” system, and more importantly, he was afraid of death. If he fell into the hands of the protagonist, wouldn’t he be finished?

Moreover, this protagonist wasn’t the standard heroic type; he was the kind who ushered in an era of chaos—the “Warlord” type. The book was a “Bad Ending” tragedy; someone died in every chapter. The protagonist sacked cities and destroyed nations. He didn’t just destroy Qi; he destroyed other countries too. He was a battlefield boss consumed by hatred. Much like Xiang Yu of history, once Xie Gebai started the slaughter in Qi, he couldn’t stop, eventually leading to him being surrounded and killed by a coalition.

His whole life was colored in blood. Everyone who came to him was there for profit. He seemed to have a “scum-attractor” constitution; even after he took Qi, his strategist stabbed him in the back. Surprisingly, he didn’t die and instead counter-killed Lu Xun. Only then did he find out the other was an agent for the Prince of Yan, who had come to Xie Gebai’s side to take Qi without losing a single soldier. They planned to “kill the donkey once the grinding is done,” but were killed by a poisoned Xie Gebai instead.

The protagonist was truly a monster; even poison couldn’t kill him.

Now, the urgent matter wasn’t how terrifying the protagonist was, but what he should do. The original owner wanted to die a martyr, so he let everyone flee. Now, the vast Qi Palace was an empty city.

The problem was, the original owner wanted to die, but he wanted to live!

“Fu’an, let’s run.”

He looked at his clothes. Fu’an had been dreaming of him having a will to live. Seeing Qi Zhan’s desire to survive, the eunuch quickly ran out and brought back a set of palace maid’s robes. It wasn’t conspicuous; if they disguised themselves and snuck out, the world would be their oyster.

“What is this mess…” He looked down and tugged at his dragon robes. “Other people transmigrate and get cheat codes; I start with a ‘cross-dressing legend’ script…”

Fu’an spread out a bundle. Qi Zhan picked it up and almost bit his tongue this was a low-cut style! Under the thin gauze was a faintly visible embroidered corset, with layers of skirt spread out like petals and a silk sash for the waist.

“Nothing more conservative? I’m not a real woman; isn’t this going to be an easy giveaway?” Qi Zhan touched his Adam’s apple. Fortunately, it wasn’t that prominent.

Fu’an looked lost. “Your Majesty, this is the most common palace maid outfit…”

“No, find something that hides my figure.” If he were caught, it would be extremely dangerous!

By the time Fu’an brought a different skirt, the rebel army had already entered the palace gates. Hearing the shouts of slaughter outside, Qi Zhan grabbed him and ran toward the deeper parts of the palace. The palace was huge; they ran all the way to the Cold Palace (the residence for discarded consorts).

Qi Zhan hurriedly changed his clothes. Fu’an went to the well to fetch a basin of water to help him shave his eyebrows and stubble. Luckily, the original body was only eighteen and didn’t have a full beard yet.