Raising Wolves CHAPTER 01

 

Raising wolves  

 Chapter 01

Translated by : DANMEI HEAVEN

"Master, please, wake up!"

The anxious voice calling out beside him roused Lu Qingze.

His consciousness drifted hazily—he wanted to open his eyes but couldn’t. The voice grew louder and louder until, with a sudden buzz in his head, his soul seemed to slam back into his body, finally taking control.

With great effort, Lu Qingze opened his eyes to see a completely unfamiliar face. The boy had slightly dark skin, clever and pleasant features, and couldn’t have been very old. His eyes were red, like a rabbit’s.

Seeing Lu Qingze finally awake, the boy’s face lit up with joy: "You’re awake! Thank heavens, thank heavens—I thought you’d never..."

His voice choked, and his eyes reddened further.

Lu Qingze was stunned. He discreetly scanned the room.

It was an elegantly furnished space with an antique charm. The bed beneath him was a bapu bed—soft, but clearly not the imported latex mattress his aunt had lugged back from Thailand.

He tried to sit up for a better look, but his body refused to cooperate. Instead, as his senses sharpened, a deep, bone-aching pain spread through him, and cold sweat broke out instantly.

The boy sniffled, tears welling in his eyes: "You’ve been unconscious ever since they rescued you from prison. I’ve been calling for you every day. The physician said if you didn’t wake up today, you’d never... Pah! I shouldn’t say such unlucky things."

Lu Qingze gritted his teeth against the pain, giving the boy a weak glance.

Though he hadn’t yet figured out what was happening, young man, your master might really be gone.

Otherwise, he wouldn’t be here.

The boy, lost in his excitement, suddenly smacked his forehead: "I—I was so happy I forgot! Master, how do you feel? I’ll go fetch Physician Sun right away!"

Before Lu Qingze could stop him, the boy bolted for the door.

A gust of icy wind seeped through the crack as the door opened. Lu Qingze accidentally inhaled it, and his throat prickled. A violent coughing fit wracked him, sharp pain flaring in his throat, a metallic tang rising—he nearly coughed up blood.

The boy shuddered, hastily retreating and slamming the door shut before rushing back to help Lu Qingze sit up, patting his back until the coughing subsided. He then poured a cup of water: "Master, drink slowly. Don’t choke."

Lu Qingze coughed until his vision blurred, his head buzzing. Weakly, he let the boy help him sip the water. The cool liquid soothed his throat slightly.

Seeing Lu Qingze’s paper-pale face, his lashes damp with sweat, the boy gnashed his teeth in fury: "Those damned eunuchs tortured you so badly in prison! Chief Minister Wei only had them beheaded—too merciful! They should’ve been sliced to pieces..."

Eunuchs? Chief Minister Wei?

Lu Qingze’s eyelids twitched. Suddenly, realization struck. His eyes widened slightly, and he rasped out his first words since waking: "What year is it?"

The boy quickly swallowed his indignation and answered carefully: "You were imprisoned last year. Now it’s the twenty-fifth year of Jian’an, late February."

Lu Qingze’s vision darkened.

He was sure now.

He had transmigrated into the novel he’d confiscated from a student yesterday—into a character who shared his name.

During yesterday’s evening self-study, he’d taken the book from a girl, who had begged him not to read it.

Lu Qingze hadn’t planned to, but curiosity got the better of him. Back in the office, he’d skimmed through it.

The novel followed the protagonist, a scion of a noble family, as he overthrew a tyrannical emperor.

The tyrant had lost his parents young, narrowly escaped a eunuch-led coup, and was later manipulated by treacherous officials. With no one truly loyal to him, he endured humiliation until he grew up and eliminated the chief minister.

Due to his childhood, the emperor trusted no one. He was cruel and twisted, with spies everywhere. Officials who defied him were executed on the spot, their families exterminated. His warmongering and bloodlust left the people miserable and resentful.

When the protagonist rebelled, he was no match for the tyrant. Just as the protagonist was about to lose, the tyrant—afflicted by childhood illnesses—died first.

The protagonist and antagonist had ended up like this because the author had clearly lost control of the tyrant’s character midway.

And Lu Qingze?

He was the top scholar in the imperial examinations the year before the tyrant’s father, the late emperor, passed away—a man of great promise.

Emperor Chong’an was obsessed with immortality, allowing eunuchs to run amok. Lu Qingze, fearless in his remonstrations, had been thrown into prison and tortured to death. But his case became the spark for the purge of the eunuchs.

He wasn’t even a cannon fodder character—just a plot device.

No wonder the girl had been so frantic.

After flipping through the novel, Lu Qingze’s heart had suddenly seized. He’d tried to reach for his medicine, but his limbs had failed him, and he’d blacked out.

Lu Qingze sighed silently—So, I died.

In his past life, he’d had a heart condition. Because of his illness, his family had treated him like a burden, keeping him on the fringes. After grad school, he’d become a teacher and hadn’t contacted his family in years.

He wondered who would handle his remains. His students must’ve been terrified.

Pushing aside the chaotic thoughts, Lu Qingze looked at the boy before him.

In the novel, Lu Qingze’s parents had died, and he’d come to the capital alone for the exams. This boy, Chen Xiaodao, was a little beggar he’d picked up off the street before his imprisonment.

Seeing Lu Qingze’s color improve slightly, Chen Xiaodao made to fetch the physician again.

Lu Qingze mustered his strength and weakly grabbed him: "I’m fine. No need for the physician. Tell me everything that’s happened since I was imprisoned—leave nothing out."

The original Lu Qingze had died, but now he was alive. The plot would undoubtedly change.

Chen Xiaodao, once a street beggar, was well-informed. Nodding, he recounted everything in detail: "After you were imprisoned, the eldest prince fell ill and died. The Emperor was heartbroken and summoned more Taoist priests to refine resurrection pills."

Lu Qingze: "..."

Ridiculous.

"The eunuchs took advantage of the chaos, imprisoning His Majesty in the palace. Chief Minister Wei and a commander named Fan suppressed the eunuchs and rescued you and the other imprisoned officials. His Majesty was also freed and, in a rage, ordered Chief Minister Wei to oversee the execution of all the eunuchs. Yesterday, they were beheaded at the market..."

"During the eunuchs’ coup, the second prince also died in the chaos. His Majesty’s line is thin—he only had three sons. He fell gravely ill and only recently remembered the third prince in the cold palace, issuing an edict to make him crown prince."

Here, Chen Xiaodao beamed: "His Majesty, moved by your loyalty, has appointed you as the Crown Prince’s tutor. Since the Eastern Palace is short-staffed, you’re also to serve as Junior Supervisor of the Household Administration. But you were unconscious when the imperial decree arrived, so I accepted it on your behalf."

"Oh, and Chief Minister Wei has sent people to inquire about your condition several times—he’s very concerned about you!"

Chief Minister Wei—the tyrannical emperor’s greatest early threat, the all-powerful prime minister.

Lu Qingze’s eyelids twitched violently.

Chief Minister Wei’s inquiries were undoubtedly to see if he’d survived—to recruit him.

If he refused Wei’s overtures, he’d offend him.

But the other side was even more dangerous.

The third prince, Ning Juan, had lost his mother young and was neglected, growing up in the cold palace. With the other princes dead and no heir left, the old emperor had only then remembered him—a pitiable figure on the surface.

But in the future, he’d become the novel’s ruthless, bloodthirsty tyrant!

Chief Minister Wei was untouchable, but the tyrant was even worse.

Offending either could lead to a gruesome death.

Given the situation, escape wasn’t an option.

Unaware of this, Chen Xiaodao saw only that Lu Qingze was now favored by both the Emperor and Chief Minister Wei, his future bright. Gleefully, he added, "Once the Crown Prince ascends, you’ll be the Emperor’s teacher—the imperial tutor!"

Lu Qingze’s head throbbed. He swayed and collapsed back onto the pillow.

Chen Xiaodao panicked: "What’s wrong, Master? This is a joyous occasion! Or are you feeling unwell again?"

Lu Qingze felt no joy. He closed his eyes in agony: "I want to resign."

Chen Xiaodao: "..."

Just then, a deep, resonant bell tolled in the distance.

Under the dusky sky, the ancient bell’s solemn chime swept across the capital, reaching every corner.

Chen Xiaodao jumped, staring fearfully outside: "That’s..."

The funeral bell.

Emperor Chong’an had finally ended his absurd life, achieving his dream of ascension.

Exhausted, Lu Qingze passed out again. Before losing consciousness, a belated realization struck him:

His never-met crown prince student had just been promoted—twice in three days.

He was now the Emperor.

The new emperor ascended the throne, declaring the era name Shengyuan.

With Emperor Chong’an’s death, there was much to arrange. The eunuch rebellion hadn’t been fully quelled, so the coronation was simple. Chief Minister Wei was no longer second only to the Emperor—he stood alone above all others, a powerful minister.

The young emperor was a puppet. Few cared about him, let alone Lu Qingze.

The sprawling Lu estate had only Chen Xiaodao and a few cleaning servants. No one knew Lu Qingze had woken, so he didn’t attend the coronation.

He drifted in and out of consciousness for days before recovering enough strength to at least walk a few steps.

Given a second chance at life, Lu Qingze had no desire to wade into this mess. Once lucid, he toyed with the ivory token granting him palace access, deep in thought.

Chief Minister Wei, as depicted in the novel, was corrupt, framed loyal officials, and disregarded human life—a true villain. Allying with him was out of the question.

The young emperor was just a primary schooler by modern standards. With effort, perhaps he could correct the boy’s twisted nature and prevent his descent into darkness?

Thinking this, Lu Qingze reviewed the novel’s plot.

He’d skimmed it, missing many details, but his memory was sharp. A critical point came to mind:

Shortly after his coronation, the tyrant Ning Juan had accidentally fallen into a palace pond and nearly drowned. A young eunuch had risked his life to save him, becoming the only person the emperor trusted—though he’d later execute him too.

The spring chill was harsh, and the child’s constitution was weak. Though saved, he’d been left with lifelong health issues. This was why, during the final confrontation with the protagonist, the tyrant had succumbed first, dying in his twenties.

The novel had only mentioned it briefly. Racking his brain, Lu Qingze recalled the date:

The fifth day of the third month, Shengyuan Year 1.

Lu Qingze’s fingers, idly spinning the token, stilled.

Today was the fifth day of the third month.

His expression shifted. He called for Chen Xiaodao: "Prepare a carriage. Now."

Chen Xiaodao was baffled: "Master, where are we going?"

"To the palace!"

CONTINUE