The Honest Official 01

Fang Zhiyi opened his eyes and found himself transported back to ancient times.

Glancing down at the official robes he wore, he breathed a sigh of relief—being an official, no matter how minor, was certainly a good start.

But after absorbing the memories of this world, Fang Zhiyi couldn’t help but feel exasperated.

This was the twilight of the Qi Dynasty, a time of corrupt governance where local tyrants and outlaws ran rampant.

Among these outlaws, one group stood out—a bandit faction with dozens of leaders, well-armed and organized, operating under the banner of "acting in Heaven’s name." What began as a small mountain stronghold had grown into a regional power.

Their leader, known in the jianghu as "Roaring Tiger" Wang Xiaotian, was supported by his strategist Xue Qi and the famously chivalrous Song Yunfan, nicknamed "Boundless Loyalty."

Unfortunately, Wang Xiaotian perished in a battle against government troops. Afterward, Xue Qi helped Song Yunfan ascend to leadership, swiftly reorganizing the mountain stronghold’s hierarchy. Wang Xiaotian had planned to exploit the Qi Dynasty’s turmoil and declare himself king, but Song Yunfan had other ideas—he overruled dissent and led the group back into the fold of the Qi Dynasty.

Thus, the men of Panlong Stronghold transformed from bandits into government soldiers, becoming a blade to suppress rebels across the land.

In the end, nearly all of Panlong’s leaders met their demise—only Song Yunfan and Xue Qi, credited with stabilizing the Qi Dynasty, rose to the highest ranks of the imperial court.

Later, the protagonist—Song Yunfan’s son—was born. His story revolved largely around competing with a prince for a woman’s affection, culminating in his furious decision to follow his father’s old path: taking to the hills as an outlaw and ultimately overthrowing the Qi Dynasty.

But none of this concerned Fang Zhiyi much.

His role in this tale was minor. At this point, Panlong Stronghold was still insignificant, and Song Yunfan had yet to join them. However, Fang Zhiyi had close ties to the stronghold’s members. One day, while secretly discussing provisions with a Panlong spy, a singing girl overheard their conversation. Song Yunfan tried to pay her off, but the spy, distrustful, killed her on the spot.

Horrified, Song Yunfan urged the spy to flee. As he was disposing of the body, the girl suddenly stirred back to consciousness. Gritting his teeth, Song Yunfan grabbed a nearby stone and crushed her skull—just as the tavern owner arrived and witnessed everything.

That same day, Song Yunfan was arrested and hauled to Qingping County’s magistrate office.

As a local wealthy man, Song Yunfan had some influence—but none of it worked on Fang Zhiyi.

Here’s where Fang Zhiyi comes in: he was the only son of Fang Huatian, the Qi Dynasty’s prime minister. When Fang Zhiyi came of age, his father secured him a position in the court.

But Fang Zhiyi was nothing like his father. He was incorruptible, rigidly upholding the law, and scorned personal connections. If someone tried to bribe him, he’d report them immediately—even when the emperor visited a courtesan, Fang Zhiyi publicly rebuked him in front of the entire court, ignoring both his father’s warning glare and the emperor’s fury.

This left everyone exasperated. They couldn’t just kill him—Fang Huatian was still in power, and Fang Zhiyi, however obstinate, never put a foot wrong in his duties.

Then Fang Zhiyi went a step further: he impeached his own father, accusing him of carousing in the pleasure quarters with fellow officials. The emperor found some solace in this—if the man would impeach his own father, then his earlier audacity was at least consistent.

Fang Huatian, at his wits’ end, consulted with his peers and had Fang Zhiyi reassigned as a county magistrate in Qingping—out of sight, out of mind. Over time, Fang Zhiyi grew distant from his father, exchanging no letters for years.

Fang Zhiyi didn’t care. He carried out his duties diligently, and under his rule, Qingping’s administration improved markedly. His superior, wary of provoking him, advised local magnates to steer clear—if they couldn’t avoid him, they’d simply accept their losses.

When Song Yunfan’s case came before him, the trial proceeded swiftly. Song Yunfan refused to mention the Panlong spy—perhaps fearing the severe penalty for colluding with bandits, or out of misplaced loyalty—and took full blame, spinning a ludicrous tale about the girl attempting to assault him out of lust. The arresting officers nearly struck him for the absurdity.

Fang Zhiyi remained impassive. Murder was murder, and Song Yunfan showed no remorse—so he sentenced him to immediate execution.

The verdict was sent up the chain for imperial confirmation. During this waiting period, news of Song Yunfan’s arrest spread, and Panlong Stronghold grew restless. Despite their banditry, they prided themselves on honor and loyalty. At Xue Qi’s suggestion, they plotted a jailbreak, even confirming the execution’s timing.

Fang Zhiyi, preoccupied with other matters, gave it no further thought—he was a busy man.

On the day of the execution, unfamiliar faces flooded Qingping. Most assumed they were traveling merchants—until the moment the execution began, when chaos erupted.

Qingping’s garrison was pitifully small. The Qi Dynasty’s standard arrangement was one magistrate and one military commander per county, but Fang Zhiyi’s presence had driven away any potential co-officials. His first military counterpart lasted only three months before Fang Zhiyi impeached him four times for corruption. Eventually, Fang Zhiyi handled both roles—a civil official playing soldier—leaving Qingping’s defenses threadbare.

The execution grounds became a slaughterhouse. Government troops were decimated, and even bystanders were caught in the bloodshed.

The enraged "heroes" stormed the magistrate’s office. Fang Zhiyi, away on business outside the city, was intercepted by fleeing soldiers who forcibly escorted him to safety.

Panlong’s men massacred every member of the Fang household, sparing not even the children.

When Fang Zhiyi received the news, he sat in stunned silence before resolving to seek reinforcements from the prefecture. With a handful of surviving soldiers, he reached the prefectural office—only for his superior to chastise him for recklessness and dither over deploying troops. Frustrated, Fang Zhiyi stormed out and turned to his father’s old subordinate, veteran general Zhao Chengye.

Zhao Chengye, outraged, mobilized three thousand troops without waiting for orders.

But no one anticipated that Zhao’s deputy, Sun Biao, had ties to Panlong Stronghold. A single letter betrayed them.

Fang Zhiyi was captured on the spot, dragged back to Panlong, and publicly disemboweled before the bandits, his eyes wide with unseeing fury. His death devastated Fang Huatian, who collapsed in court and died within a month.

With the Fang family’s downfall, Zhao Chengye barely escaped—only for Sun Biao to frame him as a bandit collaborator, ending his career in disgrace.