Chapter One: A Narrow Escape—Awakening in a Prison Cell

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A child falls into the water at a park, someone leaps in to save them, lifts the child up, sinks, and drowns. Pavilions and towers, cries of alarm, galloping horses, a broken bridge, a carriage plunging into the river, despair beneath the water. Countless shattered fragments of memory surged into Huang Ming’s mind, jolting him awake.

When he opened his eyes, he found himself in darkness, realizing he was in a damp, cramped, and foul-smelling little room.

A prison cell?

With over a decade's experience as a seasoned detective, Huang Ming instantly recognized where he was. However, the wooden bars outside the cell were entirely unlike the modern prisons he knew.

Immediately, more memories flooded his mind, threatening to split his head open, but he began to grasp what had happened to him.

He had crossed over!

After drowning while saving a child from the water, he had transmigrated—right into the sixteenth year of the Zhengde era in Ming Dynasty China…

His thoughts had only just reached this point when a figure approached him.

It was a burly man with a face full of coarse flesh, now grinning with murderous intent. “Boy, your time has come!”

With those words, and before Huang Ming could react, the brute pressed down with a thunderous force, his large hands clamping around Huang Ming’s neck like iron hoops, tightening mercilessly, clearly intending to strangle him.

“Kid, I’m just following orders. If you want to blame someone, blame yourself for offending the wrong people.”

Huang Ming had no chance to dodge or defend himself, utterly pinned down, his breath nearly cut off.

At death’s door, all thoughts of miraculous transmigration vanished—only a desperate will to survive remained.

With his arms too weak to resist, his only weapons left were his legs. Huang Ming quickly found an opening and drove his right knee upward with all his remaining strength.

Bang!

A solid hit to the brute’s vital spot.

The man’s twisted, ferocious face instantly turned purple, his body convulsed, and the hands strangling Huang Ming loosened.

Seizing the opportunity, Huang Ming clamped his hands around the brute’s wrists, twisting with a joint-lock technique. Though he lacked strength, it was enough to break free, and then he drove both elbows swiftly upwards, landing two sharp blows to the man’s temples.

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The brute had only time for a single scream before he was struck again and fell unconscious.

After a moment, Huang Ming finally managed to crawl out from under the man, panting heavily. Only now did he realize how frail this body was—compared to his iron-pumping self before transmigration, even the average man could easily overpower him now.

As he pieced together the chaotic memories in his mind, he quickly understood his situation.

The original owner of this body was also named Huang Ming, sixteen years old, a native of Luoyang.

His parents had died young, leaving him struggling to survive. But half a year ago, on the brink of starving to death, his fortunes changed when his father’s brother, Huang Jin, appeared.

It turned out that his uncle Huang Jin had gone to the palace as a eunuch in his early teens due to poverty, severing all ties with the family. Over a decade later, upon finally making his way in the world, he discovered that only Huang Ming remained of the family line.

Whether out of sympathy or a desire to continue the family name, Huang Jin recognized Huang Ming as his son and brought him to Beijing, keeping him close.

This realization was a shock to Huang Ming. He had once imagined that, if he ever transmigrated, he might become the son of some powerful official. As fate would have it, he did—but with a twist.

The son of a eunuch, not an official.

But on further thought, perhaps this wasn’t such a bad thing. So what if his father was a eunuch?

History had plenty such men. The most famous even left their names for a thousand years—like the Chancellor of Han, lover of other men's wives, pioneer of the Jian'an spirit, and founder of Wei—Cao Cao, also known as Cao Mengde, or "Cao the Deceiver"!

Though his father had worshipped the great eunuch Cao Teng as his own, Huang Ming was, in a sense, a generation above the famous lord!

Truly, “I am no different from Cao the Deceiver.”

Then, a thought occurred to him—Huang Jin, that name sounded familiar.

Having read works like "The Ming Dynasty 1566" and "The Fifteenth Year of Wanli," which depicted the Ming era, Huang Ming quickly remembered.

Wasn’t that the name of the Ming Dynasty’s famed alchemy enthusiast, foremost Taoist, absentee spokesman, and paragon of cleanliness—esteemed by the Wan Shou Emperor, the eunuch most trusted by Emperor Jiajing, Zhu Houcong, from his days as Prince of Anlu through his decades-long reign?

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In the end, Huang Jin even rose to head the Directorate of Ceremonial Supervisors and command the Eastern Depot, reaching the highest pinnacle a Ming eunuch could attain.

It was now the sixteenth year of the Zhengde reign. The one on the throne was no longer the childlike emperor, General Zhu Shou, Zhu Houzhao, but his cousin Zhu Houcong.

What a stroke of luck—having such a powerful figure as his father, how could he not expect a good life?

His excitement lasted but a moment before reality set in: with such an influential patron, how had he ended up in prison? Worse, why was someone trying to kill him here?

Pondering this, the disjointed images from earlier became clearer.

He saw himself riding in a carriage that suddenly sped out of control, crashing straight into a military convoy ahead, smashing a prison cart off a stone bridge and plunging everything into chaos.

As Huang Ming rapidly sorted out his thoughts and tried to piece together the cause and effect, footsteps echoed through the quiet cell.

A chill ran through him. Was the assassin coming back to check on him? If they found him alive…

At this point, feigning death seemed his only option.

Leaning against the wall and shutting his eyes, he listened as the footsteps halted outside the cell. From the sounds, four or five people stood outside.

No chance of escape now.

“Open the cell…” A commanding voice spoke, then paused in surprise, “Who is this man? Why is he locked up with Young Master Huang?”

“Reporting to Lord Commander, perhaps the guards were negligent… Open up, quickly—bring Young Master Huang out!” a fawning voice replied.

The clinking of chains followed, perking Huang Ming’s attention. He quickly opened his eyes to see a square-jawed, bearded man in crimson martial attire standing not far from the cell door, regarding him with concern.

Seeing Huang Ming awake, the man’s expression relaxed. “Careful now, help Young Master Huang out. There’s too much mystery in this case—it may fall on him, so nothing must go wrong.”

At once, two soldiers entered, greeting him and gently helping Huang Ming from the cell as if he were a fragile porcelain doll.

Once outside, the man hurried to his side, personally supporting him and whispering in his ear, “Don’t be afraid, Young Master Huang. I am Huang Bingkun, Commander of the Embroidered Uniform Guard. I’ll escort you from the Southern City Garrison at once.”