In the seventeenth year of the Kaihuang era, I wrote my will in the examination hall.

In mid-July of the seventeenth year of the Kaihuang era, at the Imperial Examination Hall of the Ministry of Personnel in Daxing City.

The cold wind was like a knife, carrying fine raindrops, howling and striking the copper bells under the eaves of the examination hall. The crisp "ding-dong, ding-dong" sound was particularly jarring in the deathly silent examination hall.

A cold wind blew into the cell, making the edges of the yellowed hemp paper on the table rustle.

Yang Yan opened his eyes and felt a sharp pain in his brain, his temples throbbing, and his vision becoming somewhat blurry.

He subconsciously reached up to touch the back of his head; in his memory, this was the spot where he was hit.

But the feel is very strange.

"I have a buzz cut, but now it feels like the back of a girl's head?"

Yang Yan subconsciously swung his hand, smashing it directly onto a hard object.

"hiss--"

Yang Yan gasped, shook his hand, and the scene before him gradually became clear, but he was completely dumbfounded after seeing it clearly.

The cramped cell was no more than three feet square, with mottled walls. On the desk sat an inkstone with simple, ancient carvings, the pine soot ink inside half-solidified due to the cold. A wolf-hair brush rested diagonally on the brush rest, its tip dry.

"Where...am I?"

"Wasn't I looking up information in the library? The Book of Sui... Biography of Yang Yong... and then something heavy fell from the bookshelf and hit me on the head..." Yang Yan muttered to himself.

Before he could sort out his thoughts, the images in his mind suddenly shattered and then reassembled.

The prosperity of Daxing City is like a dream, while the Crown Prince's Mansion is oppressive and strict.

The father, Yang Yong, had a sorrowful and indecisive face.

And the owner of this body, Yang Yan, the Prince of Changning of the Sui Dynasty.

"So I've traveled through time? The seventeenth year of the Kaihuang era?!"

Yang Yan's pupils contracted sharply, and his heart pounded violently in his chest.

As a student majoring in Sui and Tang history, he was extremely sensitive to this year. It was the pinnacle of a golden age, but also the edge of an abyss.

That year, Yu Qingze was framed while on a campaign in Lingnan, and everyone in the Guanlong Group felt insecure.

That year, his father, Crown Prince Yang Yong, was only one step away from being deposed.

That year, he, the "eldest grandson of a concubine," was about to come of age and was driven out of the capital.

The original owner appeared here because he was unwilling to accept his fate.

Unwilling to be abandoned and unwilling to watch her father descend into the abyss, the original owner secretly changed her name and infiltrated the imperial examination hall, attempting to win back Yang Jian's attention with a groundbreaking essay.

However, due to his limited abilities, this foolish boy actually swallowed several "mind-stabilizing pills" offered by a sorcerer during the examination. As a result, the drug was too potent, and coupled with his exhaustion, he died suddenly in his examination cell, and was replaced by the current Yang Yan.

"This is absolutely a hellish start..."

Yang Yan gave a bitter smile; the overwhelming sense of absurdity made him instinctively want to escape.

He braced himself on the table and stood up abruptly, staggering as he tried to rush out of the cramped cubicle.

However, he had barely taken half a step out of the cell—

"presumptuous!"

A reprimand rang out, and then a middle-aged official dressed in a scarlet robe and wearing a silver fish-shaped pouch at his waist stood in front of the cell.

This man had a thin face, but his eyes were as sharp as a hawk's, and his brows were furrowed as he stared intently at Yang Yan.

Xue Daoheng!

He was the Minister of Personnel Evaluation in the Ministry of Personnel, a leading figure in the literary world of his time, and also a notoriously incorruptible judge.

In my memory, although this person appeared to be neutral, he had a close relationship with Yang Su, the powerful Duke of Yue, who was the strongest driving force behind Prince Yang Guang's usurpation of the throne.

If he were to find fault with me and accuse me of "roaring in the examination hall and showing contempt for the imperial examinations," not only would I, as a commoner, not be able to gain any advantage even if I were the eldest grandson of the royal family, but if it caused the royal family to be disgraced, I could go straight to the Imperial Clan Court to meet my death.

"This is an important examination hall, what are you doing?"

Xue Daoheng's gaze was sharp as he swept over Yang Yan's pale face, which was covered in sweat. A hint of contempt and doubt flashed in his eyes.

He did not recognize the eldest grandson of the emperor who was traveling incognito, and assumed he was just a spoiled brat with extremely poor mental fortitude.

He pointed to the hourglass on the table and said coldly, "There's only half an hour left before the exam is over. You intend to leave your seat before you've finished? If you're abandoning the exam, go outside and face the consequences!"

"Half an hour?"

Upon hearing this, Yang Yan's previously chaotic mind strangely calmed down.

He glanced at Xue Daoheng's stern face, then at the almost blank sheet of hemp paper on the table.

Leave? Leaving is easy. But what happens after you leave?

Waiting for the imperial edict of exile to one's fiefdom, forbidding one from leaving, to be fully implemented? Waiting for Yang Guang to ascend the throne and have his entire family executed? Waiting for the wheels of history to grind one into dust?

My grandfather, Yang Jian, the great emperor who ushered in the "Kaihuang Era of Prosperity," was now in his twilight years, his suspicions as heavy as Mount Tai. The kinship he saw had long been corrupted by power, riddled with holes. In his eyes, Crown Prince Yang Yong was a rebellious son who was "extravagant and unrestrained," and he, his eldest grandson born out of wedlock, was nothing more than a malignant tumor clinging to the rebellious son.

Yang Yong, the father, was straightforward but indecisive. In this life-or-death struggle for the throne, he was practically a dead man.

As for my second uncle, Yang Guang...

A cold glint flashed in Yang Yan's eyes upon hearing the name.

The Prince of Jin, who is currently trying his best to play the role of "benevolent, filial, and frugal," is probably hiding in the shadows right now, sharpening his knife, just waiting for his father to fall from power so that he can slaughter the entire Crown Prince's family and eliminate them completely.

"With no grandfather to protect me, a father to drag me down, and my second uncle to hunt me down, I've not transmigrated into the body of a royal grandson, I've clearly transmigrated into the body of meat on a chopping board."

"Since we're here, we might as well make the best of it. There's no escaping it."

Yang Yan took a deep breath and forcefully suppressed the urge to escape.

"The student is somewhat distracted and occasionally loses his composure; please forgive him, sir."

He met Xue Daoheng's scrutinizing gaze without arguing, but instead bowed slightly, turned around, and sat back down at the cold desk.

Xue Daoheng snorted coldly, flicked his sleeves, and left, leaving behind only a whispered remark carried on the wind: "A rude scoundrel dares to dream of climbing the ranks of the imperial examinations; how laughable!"

"I was rude? What did I do?" Yang Yan was puzzled but didn't think much of it.

With trembling hands, he picked up the tea that had long since gone cold, poured a little into the inkstone, and began to grind it vigorously.

He must complete this exam.

This was not merely to clear his name of the charge of "disrupting the imperial examinations," but also to raise the first cry in this prosperous era that was on the verge of collapse.

Although he has no system or magical artifacts, he has an unparalleled "golden finger".

That was the prophet who was a history student.

Although he skipped classes frequently, he still had some knowledge of the classics and historical texts. Moreover, he had already thoroughly mastered his graduation thesis, which had driven him to the brink of baldness—"The Struggle for the Crown Prince and Institutional Reforms during the Kaihuang Era."

It can be said that he was fully aware of the systemic flaws of the seventeenth year of the Kaihuang era and had a clear understanding of the conflicts between the Guanlong Group and the Shandong gentry.

He could say he knew better than Yang Jian himself which pillar of the magnificent Sui Dynasty would rot first.

The ink gradually thickened.

The panic in Yang Yan's heart subsided, replaced by a resolute determination to burn his bridges.

He spread out the blank sheet of hemp paper, and his gaze finally fell on the exam paper.

With just one article, an article powerful enough to shock the government and the public, he could change his own destiny.

His hand, which had been trembling, no longer held the pen; instead, it became unusually steady.

"I hope this piece of paper isn't used to write my will."