I Write Unofficial History in the Court - Chapter 1

Chapter 1

My father was a Historiographer.

For truthfully recording that “the Prince Regent murdered the emperor,” he was thrown into prison.

My elder brother took up the Historiographer’s Brush and continued writing that “the Prince Regent murdered the emperor,” so he was exiled beyond the pass.

Before he was sent away, my brother handed the Historiographer’s Brush to me.

“Recording events as they truly happened is the duty of a Historiographer.”

“If you cannot do that, then do not take up this brush.”

I took his teaching to heart, locked away the Historiographer’s Brush, and then began writing Unofficial History among the common people.

The very first installment I wrote was: “The Prince Regent Survived by Selling His Ass as a Male Prostitute and Returned to the Capital-This Time, He Vows to Take Back Everything That Belongs to Him!”

As it turned out, Unofficial History became a runaway bestseller.

The bookshop owner sent me frantic letters, begging me to write the next installment.

It was said that in the privies of the Imperial Academy, the most frequently thumbed-through book was none other than Unofficial History.

There was also an academy student who was caught by his teacher while studying Unofficial History in class.

The teacher flew into a rage. “Instead of reading the histories written by the sages, you spend all day obsessed with this wicked book!”

That copy of Unofficial History was confiscated by the teacher.

Unexpectedly, the next day, the teacher came to lecture with two dark circles under his eyes.

A servant who worked at the Imperial Academy said, “The teacher is truly diligent. He spent all last night reading, and he kept muttering something about ‘vowing to take back everything!'”

The students were shocked.

Those were the Prince Regent’s lines!

A few days later, the teacher came sneaking over to find the student.

He looked around furtively and crept in on tiptoe. Only after a long while did he speak in a voice as faint as a mosquito’s buzz. “Zhang Sheng, let me ask you. Where did you buy that wicked book of yours? Is there a next installment?”

The student was alarmed and asked what the teacher wanted it for.

The teacher clasped his hands behind his back and said with righteous dignity, “A wicked book like that must, of course, be carefully critiqued! I noticed the book is incomplete, and I fear there may be a twist later that proves we have wronged him. Hurry and bring me the next installment so I can see whether that is the case. Does that not make sense?”

The student nodded, half-understanding.

Then he rushed straight to the bookshop to press the owner for the next installment.

Who would have thought the shop would already be full of scholars just like him, all there to demand more?

The assembled scholars were furious. “It stopped at the most crucial point, and all that was left was one line-‘If you wish to know what happens next, please read the next installment.'”

“Every night when I try to sleep, the moment I think about not knowing what comes next, I scratch my ears and cheeks and can’t sleep a wink!”

“I’m asking you, where is the next installment?! How does the Prince Regent take back everything after returning to the capital?”

They grabbed the shopkeeper by the collar and interrogated him.

The shopkeeper could only stuff a little loose silver into their hands, then hurriedly wrote me several letters in a flurry: “My little ancestor, my god of wealth! I beg you, please write faster! If you don’t write the next installment soon, they’re going to tear me apart!”