Save That Miserable Protagonist - Chapter 32

Spring was deepening, yet the biting chill had not entirely faded. After several cold rains, the roads outside the city of Moling began to turn into a muddy mess.

The new grass shoots along the roadside were trampled into the mud by passing carriages, losing their original vibrant color.

Inside the swaying carriage, Yan Buzhuo was sighing.

Since the imperial examination case, Yan Buzhuo had been appointed as an Assistant Director of the Bureau of Provisions under the Ministry of War, a position with a rank of 6a. While not a particularly significant or powerful office, his status as the heir to the Marquis of Yongjia granted him the privilege of standing in the final ranks of the imperial court.

Consequently, Yan Buzhuo complained bitterly every day. He never imagined that, after traveling from a university in his past life to the Great Zhou Dynasty, he would still be forced to adhere to a “nine-to-five” (or in his case, “early eight”) schedule.

In fact, it was even stricter than that.

He had to wake up before the roosters even crowed, then undergo the ritual of grooming and dressing under the care of maids and servants. He would don his crimson silk court robes, adjust his 6a-rank three-ridged jinxian cap, and hold his wood-carved hu tablet. Only then, under the satisfied gaze of Princess Yongning, would he board the carriage to attend the imperial court.

For the past two days, Yan Buzhuo had been driven to the brink of madness by these morning audiences.

In fairness, the Great Zhou court robes were elegant. Yan Buzhuo possessed a slender, lithe build with a youthful tenacity. His usual high ponytail was neatly tucked into a black jade cap, lending him a scholar’s air, while the vibrant red robes and his own sharp, pitch-black eyes added a touch of dashing spirit.

Thus, despite wearing the stiff court attire, Yan Buzhuo maintained an air of effortless youthful charisma.

When Princess Yongning first saw him in his court dress, her eyes twinkled. “My son’s grace is such that even these crimson robes cannot diminish it. It is only a pity that the number of ridges on this jinxian cap… if only there were more, it would be even better.”

In the Great Zhou, the number of ridges on the jinxian cap denoted a person’s official rank; a 6a official was entitled to three ridges. Princess Yongning’s words were a clear hint that she wanted him to strive for higher positions.

Hearing this, Yan Buzhuo’s dark, lively eyes drooped. He drawled, “Mother, you are really making things difficult for your son.”

Strive for what? If not for his System, Yan Buzhuo would be an illiterate simpleton in the Great Zhou.

As a modern man from the 21st century, he had no business competing with scholars who had studied in bitter poverty for over a decade. Furthermore, if the fate of the Great Zhou could not be altered, what use would it be even if he became the Grand Chancellor?

Thinking of this, Yan Buzhuo let out a melancholy sigh.

Seeing him sigh, Princess Yongning assumed her demands were too high. “It is fine if my son does not wish to pursue a career in the bureaucracy. You are the heir to the Yongjia Marquis Estate and the legitimate son of Princess Yongning. In the future, even if you are just a leisured marquis, who would dare say anything?”

Yan Buzhuo knew these were not just hollow words of comfort. She genuinely wanted him to be a care-free marquis. Having witnessed the treacherous and murky waters of the Great Zhou harem, she understood the storms of the court all too well. Thus, as a mother, she only hoped for her child’s safety, and had raised him to be a dandy.

Others only saw the heir to the Yongjia Marquis Estate as a dissolute playboy—one who wore only the finest silks, ate only the most luxurious delicacies, and surrounded himself with beautiful servants. He was known as an unproductive, good-for-nothing failure in the eyes of the world.

However, Yan Buzhuo knew that the original body’s owner was actually Princess Yongning’s proudest achievement; he possessed her integrity. When the Tatars breached the city, even though he knew nothing of war, the original owner had voluntarily followed the Marquis of Yongjia to the front lines, and died in that great battle.

Recalling this, Yan Buzhuo felt physically uncomfortable. “System, am I essentially stealing someone else’s life?”

Not only did he steal a life, he also stole their love.

Because of this, for the past few days, Yan Buzhuo had been avoiding Princess Yongning; he dared not meet her gaze filled with such deep maternal love.

The System, unable to bear seeing Yan Buzhuo—who was usually as energetic as a puppy—looking so dejected, spoke in its flat, mechanical tone. [Host, do not dwell on this. Consider that if the mission fails, you are both destined to die for the country anyway.]

“…”

Yan Buzhuo was choked by the System’s blunt remark. “If you do not know how to comfort someone, you can just stay silent.”

Seeing the Fengtian Hall before them, the System continued its attempt at comfort. [Host, focus on the mission. If it is successful, 888 can submit a report to the Main System.]

Hearing this, Yan Buzhuo regained some energy. He looked up, his eyes bright. “Will the report allow the original owner to return?”

[888 is not certain, but the original owner’s death was an accidental event. Perhaps we can negotiate with the Main System.]

“Not certain” meant there was a chance.

Having received this answer, Yan Buzhuo no longer felt discouraged as he looked at the approaching Fengtian Hall. He hopped out of the carriage with agility and followed the crowd into the great hall.

Along the way, he kept looking around, hoping to spot Ruan Suiyu, but perhaps because Yan Buzhuo always arrived at the very last minute, he had never managed to run into him on the way.

Today was no different; by the time he reached his designated spot, Yan Buzhuo still had not found that bamboo-like figure.

Yan Buzhuo had attended the morning court for three days now, and every session was equally tedious and long. Listening to the dry, repetitive reports, his eyelids grew heavy. Just as he was about to steal a nap, a sharp, piercing cry suddenly echoed from outside the hall.

“Report! An 800-li urgent military dispatch from Jiangbei!”

As the voice faded, a messenger clad in silver armor hurried into the hall and knelt down. “Tatar cavalry have repeatedly raided the border. Our garrison is fighting with their blood, yet our armor and weapons are rusted and broken. The winter supplies have yet to arrive, morale is low, and I fear a catastrophe is imminent.”

The man’s voice was hoarse, yet it rang out with startling clarity in the silent hall.

The moment he heard this, Yan Buzhuo felt a jolt of electricity run through him. A chill crawled up his spine to his scalp, and his sleepiness vanished instantly. He shouted in his mind, “System! System, wake up! Is this… is this that event?”

The fall of the Great Zhou began with an 800-li urgent military report. The report stated that the Tatars were raiding the border, that military equipment was neglected, and that border funds were embezzled. However, after the report was submitted, the Emperor merely issued a symbolic reprimand to a few officials in the Ministry of Revenue and did not mention a single word about the grain and supplies for Jiangbei.

This event became the catalyst for the catastrophic border defeat five years later, when the Tatars marched straight into Moling.

Yan Buzhuo’s thoughts were frantic, but the System’s tone remained unchanging, cold and mechanical. [Yes. This is a key node in the original world line. Host, this matter…]

Before the System could finish, hearing the low murmurs around him, Yan Buzhuo did not hesitate. He stepped into the center of the hall and called out, “Your Majesty, I, Yan Buzhuo, Assistant Director of the Bureau of Provisions of the Ministry of War, have a memorial to present!”

As soon as he spoke, the eyes of everyone in the hall focused on him in an instant. Even the Emperor, Liang Heng, who sat high above, cast a faint glance in his direction.

Feeling the weight of those scrutinizing gazes, Yan Buzhuo took a deep breath, forcing himself to remain calm. “The military report states that our weapons are poor and our supplies are lacking. This threatens the very foundation of our nation! I implore Your Majesty to thoroughly investigate the allocation of military funds and the accounting of equipment manufacturing over the past years. We must trace the root of these issues to stabilize the morale of our troops and secure our borders!”

After Yan Buzhuo finished, the court fell into a deathly silence. Many veteran officials looked at him as if he were an ignorant child.

Indistinct murmurs erupted again, and as Yan Buzhuo listened closely, he felt a sense of alarm. These people, these officials of the Great Zhou, were doing absolutely nothing. Most were simply lamenting the difficulties at the border or pointing fingers at the Ministry of Revenue and Ministry of War for poor management; their words were empty and avoided the core issues.

Not a single person stepped forward to propose a thorough investigation.

Just as Yan Buzhuo was gritting his teeth in frustration, another voice sounded, calm and steady.

“Your Majesty, although Assistant Director Yan’s words were spoken with urgency, his intentions are honorable. Military pay and equipment concern the lives of our Great Zhou soldiers and the safety of our country. Since there are doubts, a thorough investigation is the only way to prevent future disasters.”

This crisp, clear voice was like fine jade. Yan Buzhuo looked up and saw Ruan Suiyu standing just in front of him, holding his hu tablet.

He was bowed in a gesture of respect, yet his posture remained that of a gentleman of integrity. Following Ruan Suiyu’s words, several other officials also stepped forward to join the request for an investigation.

Seeing this, the tension in Yan Buzhuo’s chest eased slightly.

Emperor Liang Heng listened to the voices in the hall without saying a word. Only after the hall had fallen completely silent did he speak faintly. “If so, then let it be granted. The Ministry of War and Ministry of Revenue shall oversee the investigation, with Assistant Director Yan and Censor Ruan participating.”

Upon hearing this, Yan Buzhuo peeked up, but the white jade beads of the imperial crown obscured the Emperor’s face, making it impossible to read his expression.

But since the Emperor had ordered him to investigate, Yan Buzhuo accepted the decree openly.

He felt that as a man from the 21st century who had watched countless detective dramas, and with the help of the System, investigating an ancient case would surely be a simple and effortless task.

However, his fantasy was beautiful, but reality proved to be an arduous struggle. Three days had passed, and the investigation had ground to a virtual halt.

The accounts of the Ministry of Revenue were impeccable; not even the System could find a single error. The Ministry of War’s documents were similarly clear and meticulous, and Yan Buzhuo could find no flaws.

When he tried to question others, even after revealing his status, he was met with nothing but fake, polite evasions: “Young Marquis, you are still too young.”

Every word was laced with hidden contempt. Yan Buzhuo was so frustrated he could feel it in his bones, yet he was utterly helpless.