The Villainous Minister 01

Just as he was about to be pulled into the vortex, Fang Zhiyi suddenly grabbed hold of the system.

He realized this was the only time he could physically touch it.

"Wait."

The system grew nervous. "Host, what are you doing? You can’t attack the system."

Fang Zhiyi narrowed his eyes. "You’re not a system. What are you, really?"

The system, which had already begun taking on a humanoid form, shrank back under his sinister gaze. It knew full well what kind of man Fang Zhiyi was—he was no saint.

"Host, what are you talking about? I am the system, the Quick Transmigration System."

"Oh? Then why don’t you provide tools, an item shop, or a personal space?"

"Host, I already told you, hers is a mechanical system. It’s different from mine..."

Fang Zhiyi asked coldly, "Then why do you always hide when you see your so-called colleagues?"

"Uh..."

"I’ve been observing for a while now. Every other system provides assistance for every action their host takes, even letting them exchange points for items. So tell me, what’s the point of my points?"

The system finally understood—Fang Zhiyi had been watching other transmigrators all this time!

"W-well... if you don’t earn points, you’ll die."

Fang Zhiyi let go, drifting away from the vortex. "Then let’s die." He felt he had pieced things together. If this shady thing wouldn’t talk, he’d just give up. Every world they passed through, it changed a little. It was growing by leeching off him. No way it wouldn’t panic.

Seeing Fang Zhiyi truly ready to quit, the system finally panicked. "I... I..." After a long hesitation, it slumped in defeat. "Fine. I’m not a system. I’m just... a grudge."

Fang Zhiyi perked up. "A grudge?"

The system spilled everything. "Those quick transmigrators always pick the best scripts, skipping countless worlds. The resentment from those abandoned worlds... formed me." Though it had no facial features, it still glanced at Fang Zhiyi. "I drifted for ages until I reached your world. I read the novels you wrote and thought... maybe you could fix those worlds. So I pulled you in."

Fang Zhiyi was speechless. This thing was seriously this reckless?

"So what’s the point of the points?"

The system shook its head. "I made that up to trick you. I saw other systems doing it."

"So there’s no mission either?"

The system stayed silent. Fang Zhiyi took a deep breath and nodded. "Alright. What can you actually do?"

Hesitantly, it answered, "I can only take you through worlds, project images of others into your mind—though not for long. But after these worlds, I’ve gotten better at sustaining it. Oh, and I can implant memories... basically make people dream."

"So the 'plot' you fed me was just stuff you’d seen?"

The system nodded.

"Last question. What happens to you in the end?"

The system seemed lost. "I don’t know. But every world we pass through... I feel a connection forming. Faint, but it makes me feel real. Host, do you get what I mean?"

Fang Zhiyi muttered, "The birth of a world’s will? That’s bullshit."

"Host?"

"Let’s go. Damn it, I’m already stuck on this scam of yours." Fang Zhiyi drifted toward the vortex. "Oh, and from now on, you’re Little Black."

"That’s not a great name..."

"You’re complaining now?"

---

When Fang Zhiyi opened his eyes, the system launched into its explanation with unusual enthusiasm, as if making up for its earlier deception.

This world was another ancient setting. Fang Zhiyi was the first Grand General in the history of the Wei-Wu Dynasty.

But the irony was thick—the emperor who promoted him was also the dynasty’s first true tyrant. The emperor ignored state affairs, preferring to play hide-and-seek with his concubines, raise birds and fish, and occasionally practice calligraphy (which was, admittedly, exceptional).

Emperor Shunying trusted Fang Zhiyi because, during the late emperor’s passing, multiple princes had eyed the throne. Back then, Fang Zhiyi was just a lowly captain of the imperial guards, yet he used that position to secure Shunying’s ascension. By the time the other princes mobilized their armies, news of Shunying’s coronation had already spread. The new emperor immediately promoted Fang Zhiyi to Commander of the Nine Gates, handing him control of both the capital guards and the imperial army.

Fang Zhiyi knew that if those outside forces breached the city, neither Shunying nor he would survive. So he personally went to the gates to negotiate surrender. When the rebels refused, the siege dragged on for over a month. Strangely, luck favored Shunying—the besieging armies were struck by plague, then mass desertions. The succession war fizzled out.

When Fang Zhiyi reported their victory, the emperor was overjoyed and promoted him again.

On paper, this trajectory seemed fine. But what followed plunged the Wei-Wu Dynasty into ruin.

After his coronation, Shunying pretended to govern for a brief period before reverting to his old ways. He handed state affairs to eunuchs and the military entirely to Fang Zhiyi, even bestowing on him the title of Duke. Meanwhile, the emperor obsessed over food and games.

Fang Zhiyi was thrilled. With the emperor’s trust and power in his hands, he grew reckless—embezzling funds, flaunting authority, forming factions with eunuchs, and clashing with the civil officials.

If the court was this corrupt, how could the people fare any better?

Peasant uprisings erupted across the land. But the Wei-Wu military, long decayed, couldn’t even mount proper suppression. Soon, 300,000 rebels surrounded the capital. Fang Zhiyi commanded the capital guards and imperial army—the only forces still combat-ready. But when the rebels sent him a letter, he wavered.

The letter detailed Shunying’s tyranny, the suffering of the people, and the rot among officials. They acknowledged Fang Zhiyi’s talent—without it, he couldn’t have won the capital’s defense years ago. The rebels urged him to surrender, promising him a place as a founding hero of their new dynasty, one that would usher in a golden age.

Fang Zhiyi was tempted. So he opened the gates.

The rebels hanged Emperor Shunying in the imperial garden. True to their word, they spared Fang Zhiyi, letting him keep his title as Duke. But every night, he dreamed of the day the rebels stormed the palace—the slaughtered maids and eunuchs, the emperor forced to hang himself, still waiting for Fang Zhiyi to save him.

Fang Zhiyi died. They found him hanged in his study.

"What a legend," Fang Zhiyi muttered as he opened his eyes.