SYNOPSYS:

Rong Shuang was knocked on the head and transmigrated to ancient times. When he opened his eyes, he had become the extravagant, corrupt Grand Secretary (Senior Grand Chancellor) who squandered money like water.

Rong Shuang, who had just fought in a supermarket over five-yuan-for-two-catties discounted eggs: “?” No way, this won’t do.

The original owner of his body was a pristine poisonous tumor. When the new emperor, Ying Wujiu, ascended the throne to clean up the mess left by the previous reign, the very first person he planned to execute was Rong Shuang.

Rong Shuang: Prosperity, democracy, civility, harmony…

The next second, a deadly bath ambush descended upon him.

The Emperor’s huge hand clamped around him like iron pincers, his voice cold and ghostly: “朕 wants this cheap life of yours.”

Rong Shuang’s face turned deathly pale as his entire body trembled—he fainted from low blood sugar due to starvation.

“Your Majesty… g-give me a steamed bun to eat…”

Ying Wujiu: “?”

Ying Wujiu was suspicious, deep, cold-blooded, and cruel, like a venomous snake flicking its tongue. Uprooting Rong Shuang by his roots was the first sharp knife he wielded against the weak court.

However, the atmosphere gradually became bizarre.

“Behind the vermilion gates, wine and meat spoil—aahhh!”

“What kind of treasure costs three hundred taels of gold?!”

“Starting today, everyone in the entire household tighten your belts and live frugally!”

At first, Ying Wujiu thought this was merely a stalling tactic. That was until the young man got drunk, clutched two sleeves full of pastries from the banquet, and pitiably held out his official robes before him.

“Your Majesty… my sleeve is torn…”

“Can I get it reimbursed?”

Ying Wujiu glanced down at him, his gaze deep and inscrutable.

Years later, inside the bedchamber during the Empress Conferment Ceremony:

The incomparably handsome Emperor wrapped his arm around Rong Shuang’s waist, his voice lazy and deep: “朕 gives the entire Liang dynasty’s realm to you. For our next meal, we won’t eat steamed buns anymore, hmm?”

Rong Shuang: “That’s not impossible.”

Ying Wujiu leaned in to kiss him.

Rong Shuang twiddled his fingers shyly: “Then… can I take the leftover wine bottles from the banquet and sell them for scrap?”

“…”

━━━━━ 🐈‍⬛ ━━━━━

TABLE OF CONTENTS