PREVIEW

... my diary and curled back into the pillows I’d piled into my cave-nook. It felt like just a few months ago that I’d been sitting here writing in my diary about winning a round of the Octamillenial.

Annie got the next set of rules in a pretty little manilla envelope this morning, and we were scheduled to debrief it tonight.

We won the quarterfinals by a landslide. They didn’t show us the exact numbers, but we ended up getting sixty-seven percent of the vote, quite literally double ...

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The Prince Regent of the Zong Dynasty, Lin Bozhou, looked noble and benevolent on the outside but disgustingly filthy on the inside.

This traitorous minister, whom everyone had condemned.

One day, Meng Huan, who just transmigrated into a book, arrived into the bedroom in a sedan chair after he was forcefully sold as a male concubine to the Prince Regent.

How to keep himself safe in the face of this treacherous minister? Meng Huan was prepared to act like the original host, that was, being an aloof and cold man who would rather die than obey the Prince Regent. He would despise this man, while showing off his intelligence and wisdom, and occasionally, engaged in a game of wits with the Prince Regent.

Only this way would the Prince Regent love and respect him.

He could also be like the original host, winning the man’s favor but choosing to ignore it, making his escape in style, and forcing the calm Prince Regent glow in red anger.

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Meng—Low IQ— Huan: What were the crafty plots and machinations?

Meng—Low IQ—Huan: What were the words the original host used to scold the man?

Meng—Low IQ—Huan: Oh no, I am finished, I am done for. I am toast QAQ

The male concubine he bought were said to possess determined character, and very likely going to commit suicide by bitting off his own tongue, or viciously shout foul words at him.

Always calm and collected, Lin Bozhou, who was not one to force himself on another or witness bloodshed, was ready to free this man.

Yet, when he entered the door, he saw a dazed beauty, looking at a loss while saying in a very soft voice, “Hus-husband?”

The beauty looked to be racking his brain as if his life depended on it.

Then, after a few seconds of stupefaction, he appeared to have given up. “I would better serve you in bed.”

Lin Bozhou: “…?”

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This story is also known as The Waste Who Transmigrated into a Political Fiction

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