The Rise of a Humble Scholar

“Sir, our family truly has no money left—my husband, he...!”

Han Qing tried to open his eyes and see what was around him, but everything remained blurry; only the clamor outside reached his ears. His last memory was of being struck by a luxury car, flung into the air—on top of being betrayed in love, he was sent flying over ten meters. What a wretched fate!

Could this be the underworld after death? Han Qing summoned all his strength to slowly open his eyes and finally took in his surroundings. He raised his head to look about. The furnishings in the room were utterly unlike the modern world—rather, they resembled something else...

Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through Han Qing's head, and fragments of unfamiliar memories flooded his mind.

Qing Kingdom... Northern County... Han family. Scene after scene, both strange and familiar, flashed before his eyes.

After a while, Han Qing understood his new predicament: he must have transmigrated. And by some coincidence, the original owner of this body was also named Han Qing.

What left him speechless was that this Han Qing was a pauper. Gazing at the nearly empty room—just a single bed and nothing more—Han Qing could only sigh in resignation.

Others who transmigrated became young masters, princes, or at least were gifted with some sort of system. His own crossing over, by contrast, seemed downright pitiable.

As Han Qing was lamenting his fate, the argument outside grew more heated.

“Sirs, we truly have no money left—the last of our savings must be kept for my husband’s co