Every month, tortured half to death by menstrual cramps, Hua Chun used to pray to the heavens: God, please turn me into a man, so I won’t have to suffer like this, so I can go without a bra and jump around wherever I please, whistle at pretty girls, pee standing up, and hug handsome guys whenever I feel like it.
Just thinking about it felt wonderful!
But now, having actually become a man, lying prone before the eyes of a crowd, Hua Chun was starting to panic, because there were at least a hundred people around her, all staring fixedly at her backside.
The scene was more than a little awkward, and Hua Chun had no idea what to say.
A moment ago she’d been sobbing her eyes out in front of her computer screen, shouting “Leave Prime Minister Hua alone, take me instead!” — and the next moment, this imperial punishment really had come for her. The paddle, wide as a palm, showed no mercy at all — raised high, then brought down hard on her backside.
“Ahh—!”
This hurt far more than getting spanked by her dad as a kid. The moment the paddle landed, she let out a scream so loud it could rival a rooster crowing at six in the morning out in the countryside.
Perhaps no one had expected her to howl like that — everyone around was startled. Then an old man with a white beard rushed forward from the side, dropping to his knees not far in front of her, kowtowing furiously toward the steps.
“Your Majesty, even if Prime Minister Hua spoke rashly, every word he said rang with loyalty! He surely meant no defiance — please, Your Majesty, go easy on him!”
The line sounded familiar somehow. She felt like she’d heard it somewhere before.
Following the white-bearded old man, more people dropped to their knees on both sides like dumplings falling into a pot, all crying out in unison to plead for mercy.
“Your Majesty, Prime Minister Hua speaks for the good of the realm, for the common people! Honest words may grate on the ears, but they guide right action — please forgive him!”
“This old servant is willing to take the punishment in Prime Minister Hua’s place — please, Your Majesty, do not let loyal bones grow cold beneath this rod!”
The palace attendant wielding the paddle behind her seemed moved by the scene; the rod stopped mid-air and simply wouldn’t come down.
Seizing the moment, Hua Chun struggled to lift her head and glance up at the steps.
The scene before her felt oddly familiar — an eight-tiered jade staircase, topped with bright yellow imperial regalia. To the left stood a stunning imperial consort; to the right, a beardless eunuch. In the center stood the Emperor in a five-clawed dragon robe, his features indistinct, but he radiated an unmistakable, imposing presence — tall, commanding, oppressive.
Seeing so many people kneeling, he seemed to give a cold laugh, his gaze cutting through the air to land on… the attendant carrying out the punishment beside her.
Just that one look, and the attendant beside her instantly seemed to spring to life, the paddle striking down on her again and again in rapid succession! The force, the speed — like pounding rice cakes — hurt so much that Hua Chun cried out “Ow, ow!” without any restraint at all.
What kind of rotten luck was this?! She clearly remembered watching TV at home, right at the exciting part where the tyrannical, unreasonable monarch was about to have the dashing, peerless Prime Minister flogged — so why, in the blink of an eye, was she the one getting beaten?
The sharp pain reminded her this wasn’t a dream. And yet Hua Chun, raised in a comfortably middle-class family, who had never known hardship or suffering, simply couldn’t withstand ancient-style flogging. Before even twenty strikes had landed, her eyes rolled back and she passed out.
“Prime Minister Hua! My lord!”
As she sank into darkness, all she could hear around her were the heartbroken cries of several old men.
Hua Chun tried hard to piece together what had happened.
It had gone like this: she’d just quit her job and wasn’t in the best mood, so her best friend had sent her a drama — nine gigabytes of it — supposedly full of twists and turns, as thrilling as… well, not like that, just a rich plot with well-rounded characters, worth a watch. So she’d shut herself in her room and started watching alone.
The show seemed to be an inspirational one. The synopsis said it followed a young Prime Minister, the only son of the Hua family, who entered the imperial court at twenty and helped a short-tempered emperor become a wise and enlightened ruler. She’d barely finished the second episode before she found herself utterly drawn in by the Prime Minister character.
Strangely enough, none of the actors in the drama were recognizable stars, yet somehow she found herself loving it, especially that Prime Minister Hua — devastatingly handsome, carrying an air of restrained, ascetic elegance that tugged at her heart for no reason at all.
So when that tyrant of an emperor was about to have Prime Minister Hua flogged, Hua Chun couldn’t help but hug her computer screen and shout, “Let Prime Minister Hua go, take me instead!”
A thunderous boom split the sky, the heavens made their grand entrance, a flash of white light burst out from the screen — and she found herself lying beneath that very rod, her backside taking the brunt of it.
That was the whole story of how Hua Chun had traveled through time.
In front of the Xuanzheng Hall, Yuwen Jie looked down at the unconscious figure on the long bench, his face utterly expressionless. Eunuch Qin beside him stole a few glances at him before cupping his hands and asking, “Your Majesty, shall the punishment continue? The Prime Minister has already fainted.”
The seductive Noble Consort beside him pressed her lips together and bowed as well. “Your Majesty, surely the Prime Minister already knows his fault. Perhaps you might forgive him this once?”
The man had already fainted; to keep beating him now would truly cement his reputation as a tyrant. Several old officials knelt below, tears streaming down their faces, no longer knowing what words might sway him.
The current Emperor’s moods were famously unpredictable, and it genuinely worried them for the future of the nation. Prime Minister Hua was one of the few in court who dared to speak his mind plainly. If even he was beaten into silence, how would the monarch ever learn right from wrong?
“Enough.” Glancing down at the crowd kneeling before him, the ruler atop the steps finally spoke. “Help the Prime Minister back to his residence. Court is dismissed.”
Everyone let out a huge sigh of relief. Several officials in their sixties and seventies rose to their feet, trembling, and went on their own initiative to lift the young Prime Minister from the bench, escorting him out of the palace together.
What Hua Chun heard in her dream were the many sighs of the crowd, one after another, rising and falling, like a national anthem.
She sniffled, smacked her lips, and found she wasn’t particularly curious what all these people were worried about — she just wanted to sleep properly. Once she woke up, surely her backside wouldn’t hurt anymore.
But as it turned out, everything in life has its causes and effects. Having taken a solid dozen-plus strikes, Hua Chun was jolted awake by the pain that afternoon.
“Hiss—” She sucked in a sharp breath, opened her eyes, and found herself staring straight at a tear-streaked face.
“My child, you’re finally awake!” Wan Liufang clutched a handkerchief, sniffling as she took her hand. “Does it still hurt?”
Well, obviously — how else would she have woken up? Hua Chun pursed her lips, looked at this person’s ancient-style clothing, then at the achingly familiar room, and couldn’t help but ask quietly, “Am I dreaming?”
Wan Liufang froze, then her tears flowed even harder as she turned to the man standing in the middle of the room. “My lord, our child has been beaten so badly he’s lost his senses! His Majesty has truly wronged him!”
Hua Chun: “……”
Lord Hua sighed, his thin face full of helplessness as he looked at her. “You must understand — a subject regards the sovereign as heaven itself. Even if His Majesty wronged you, you mustn’t harbor resentment in your heart. Do you understand?”
Without thinking, she nodded — and then it hit her.
Had she landed on the set of the young Prime Minister drama? This room was clearly Prime Minister Hua’s room at the Hua residence, the one that had appeared in the first episode. This “Madam Wan” beside her must be Prime Minister Hua’s birth mother, and that Lord Hua would naturally be his birth father. Everything they said sounded old-fashioned and formal, like reciting lines from a script.
But then, why was there no director around, and no camera either?
She couldn’t help but turn to Wan Liufang. “Could I get a mirror?”
Madam Wan blinked, then reached over and handed her a bronze mirror from a nearby stand.
A handsome face she couldn’t help but adore appeared in the mirror. She bared her teeth — he bared his teeth too. She raised an eyebrow — he raised an eyebrow too.
She gave two dry laughs, buried her face in the pillow, and took a deep breath. “I’d like some quiet, please.”
“Is that so?” Madam Wan frowned at her, thought it over, and rose to her feet. “Then rest well for now. I’ll take care of everything else.”
“Mm.” Hua Chun answered sullenly.
With a sigh, Madam Wan helped Hua Zhengrong up and waved for the servants in the room to leave as well.
Once she heard the door close, Hua Chun clapped a hand over her mouth and let out a shriek. “Ahh!”
Gods, heavens above! Sure, she was quite the fangirl for Prime Minister Hua’s face, but what sin had she committed to end up turning into a man because of it?!
Twenty-five years a single dog, and yes, she’d always wondered what it would be like to try being a man — but not literally like this! How was she supposed to adjust to this sudden switch from “less on the chest” to “a beast down below”?
After roaring internally about a thousand times, Hua Chun made a bit of an adjustment to her mindset. Never mind the situation for now — the first order of business upon becoming a man, she reached down, with blunt determination, to check what was going on down there—