Part One: The Stand-In

Drawing the bow, releasing the arrow.

The string twanged with a resounding snap, and the arrow, swift and unstoppable as a butterfly weaving through flowers, slipped through the leaves over thirty feet away, pinning the green snake precisely at its vulnerable spot just as it was about to devour a fledgling bird.

Such an astounding shot, yet there was no cheer or applause.

After two years in this world, Pei Xiunian could hardly call himself unsuccessful, he sighed softly, glancing at the bow in his hand. Two lines of text shimmered before his eyes:

[Archery: Mastery—Attribute: Unerring]
[Vision: Extraordinary—Trait: Heaven’s Eye]

With such proficiency, even idle acts like sleep or breath inadvertently benefited his cultivation. If this were a world of martial heroes, Pei Xiunian would already be a renowned grandmaster.

But alas, this was a world of cultivation, and he was a modern man with blocked meridians.

Cultivation was not simply about finding a manual and sitting in meditation for years; it required guiding energy into the dantian, absorbing and refining spiritual power. Pei Xiunian possessed flawless techniques for meditation and breath control, making his progress twice as fast with half the effort. But the spiritual energy of heaven and earth could not breach his blocked meridians to enter his core, rendering all talk of cultivation meaningless.

Skills honed to perfection might shine in a martial arts novel, but in this world of cultivators, it was as useless as a eunuch taking concubines.

He had heard of immortals who could open the heavenly gate for those fated to have no path to immortality, forcibly ushering them onto the way. But with his poverty and lack of connections…

He shook his head, dismissing the thought. After taking down the green snake, he drew a few drops of venom into a tiny vessel, stowed it in his sleeve, and set off along the official road, planning to sell the first-grade spirit snake at the prefecture.

To call it a spirit snake was perhaps overstating things; only its venom, nurtured by spiritual energy, was exceptional—deadly to any mortal, a single drop causing instant death. The snake itself, lacking true sentience, possessed no special defenses; a blade or spear would easily draw blood.

It was a rare but not unattainable prize for a hunter.

Pei Xiunian had just stepped onto the road, calculating how much the snake might fetch, when the sudden clatter of wheels and a frantic shout broke the calm:

"Out of the way! Out of the way! Go... go get the authorities!"

A lavish carriage careened wildly down the road. The horse drawing it had an arrow lodged in its hind leg, blood trickling down, yet it limped on, trained and persistent.

Unhurried, Pei Xiunian sidestepped the chaos, meeting the eye of the driver just as the carriage struck a roadside boulder and collapsed in a heap. The crippled horse snapped its reins and bolted.

The driver crawled from the wreckage, wiped his brow, and seeing Pei Xiunian approach, blew a crisp whistle. A white messenger pigeon burst from a scattered box and soared into the sky.

Only then did the driver, breathing heavily, address Pei Xiunian, "Young man… could you lend a hand?"

It looked like a convoy had been ambushed, but this was the outskirts of Hangzhou Prefecture, where patrols were frequent. What kind of highwaymen would dare attack here?

Bold indeed.

Pei Xiunian felt uneasy, but the prefecture was only a mile or two away. With his Heaven’s Eye, he could see mounted soldiers approaching from that direction. He reasoned the bandits wouldn't dare pursue them so close to authority, and asked, "You were waylaid by bandits?"

"Yes," the driver replied, his leg wounded and useless for running. Still shaken, he muttered, "Who would have thought bandits would strike so near the prefecture? Truly..."

A sharp whistle sounded again. The approaching soldiers seemed to notice and rode closer. Pei Xiunian’s unease began to fade—until the driver suddenly shouted:

"He has no cultivation either!"

They were in league!

Pei Xiunian realized at once. Without hesitation, he nocked arrows to his bow, and in a heartbeat, several arrows sang through the air.

His targets were not the driver, but the soldiers dismounting nearby.

But these were no ordinary men; each was a skilled cultivator. They raised their hands to deflect the arrows with their spiritual force, sending invisible ripples through the air. Yet Pei Xiunian’s arrows did not falter, driving straight for the vital points.

One man drew his sword and cleaved the arrows in two.

What sort of blade was that? It was a royal-issue brocade spring blade!

Pei Xiunian had heard of such weapons—standard for the Da Zhou dynasty’s elite guards, but not used by ordinary soldiers.

Had the Imperial Guards or the Embroidered Uniform Guard come? Why were they outside the capital?

Seeing this elite unit disguised as common soldiers, Pei Xiunian abandoned hope of escape and asked, "Why are you arresting me?"

"Your archery is impressive," the leader remarked instead, sheathing his blade. He waved for his men to search Pei Xiunian, who was swiftly relieved of his snake and bow, both tossed aside. Finally, the leader pulled a black cloth from his belt, smiled, and said, "An exact likeness indeed. Let's go."

Blindfolded and mounted, Pei Xiunian was jostled for what seemed an eternity before being led on foot for a short while. At last, he heard a woman’s voice, muffled but respectful, "Your Highness, the man has been brought."

"Untie him and bring him in. You are all dismissed—go collect your rewards. No matter what happens here, do not enter unless I command it."

The response was a series of respectful acknowledgments, and the sound of retreating footsteps faded into the distance.

Entering, Pei Xiunian felt the black cloth fall away. He found himself in a vast, hall-like bedchamber, facing the man who had summoned him.

The man wore a robe of eight-treasure patterned brocade, gilded at the edges, a dark blue sash at his waist, and a sky-blue jade pendant carved with dragons. The attire complemented his refined, handsome features, marking him as a scion of the imperial family.

But what shocked Pei Xiunian was not this man’s status or the opulent surroundings, but the fact that this so-called Third Prince looked exactly like himself!

The Third Prince regarded him as well, then smiled with satisfaction, "Indeed, the resemblance is uncanny."

With the servants dismissed, only a single maid remained. The Third Prince beckoned her over and, with a sigh of relief, gestured for Pei Xiunian to sit. "Xiao Qin, serve tea."

The maid bowed slightly and walked to the side table to prepare fresh tea with boiling water.

Pei Xiunian did not sit; instead, he surveyed the richly adorned chamber. Vermilion pillars hung with bows, blades, even armor. The calligraphy on the walls bore imperial seals; even the most inconspicuous ornaments were masterpieces of craftsmanship. Incense smoked gently in a golden brazier.

There was only one residence like this in all Hangzhou.

"You are correct; this is the Prince Qi’s Palace," the Third Prince said, reading his thoughts. He accepted a cup of tea from the maid with a smile. "But I am not the legitimate heir."

Pei Xiunian immediately bowed, fist to palm in earnest respect. "A commoner greets Your Highness."

The prince did not respond, only asked, "Do you know why I summoned you today?"

Pei Xiunian, not daring to raise his head, maintained his bow, his left hand fiddling with a hidden bump inside his sleeve. He replied softly, "This humble one supposes Your Highness seeks a double. To safeguard the dynasty’s fate is the duty of all your subjects. I am willing to serve, even unto death."

The prince narrowed his eyes in appreciation. "Clever and smooth-tongued. Unfortunately, I do not need a double—I need a dead man."

Pei Xiunian looked up, feigning shock, but the prince waved his hand and said coldly, "Xiao Qin, do it."

A blade flashed from its sheath.

At last, Pei Xiunian’s fingernail pried loose the tiny vial hidden in his sleeve. In a blink, he flicked it toward his target. His unerring aim held true; the vial arced perfectly through the air, its deadly venom spilling forth.

"Your Highness, beware!"