Do Not Damage the Emperor's Reputation

As Zhou Yun's gaze swept across the neat writing in the scholar's notebook, the scholar's memories began flooding into Zhou Yun's mind bit by bit. From them, Zhou Yun discovered something:

Neither the scholar's memories nor his notes contained anything about the Imperium, the Emperor, the Astartes, or Terra.

This planet was indeed Macragge, and this city was indeed Macragge City,

but this was not the Macragge of the fortieth millennium, the Ultramarines' homeworld, nor was it the Macragge of the Horus Heresy, or even the Macragge of the Great Crusade.

This was Macragge in an era when the Emperor had yet to lead humanity in reclaiming the stars, when human civilization was still scattered. It was...

From the corner of the drawer where the notebook was kept, Zhou Yun dug out several coins.

These were the silver coins used on Macragge, known as denars.

Each side of the silver coin bore a portrait, representing the two consuls who ruled Macragge.

One side depicted Jarlan, the chief justice of the Macragge Legislative Assembly and a hero of the Senate.

The other depicted Conor Guilliman, the War King and adoptive father of Primarch Robert Guilliman.

Zhou Yun was in the era when these two consuls commanded Macragge,

the era in which Robert Guilliman had either been adopted by Conor or was about to be adopted by him,

an era when the Emperor had only just unified Terra and was still far from taking his seat upon the Golden Throne.

Zhou Yun clenched the silver coin tightly.

Its uneven surface made his palm ache faintly.

He had thought he had traveled to somewhere around the six-hundredth year of the forty-first millennium, the era when Inquisitor Greyfax was just beginning her career.

But now, it seemed that when his will escaped the Golden Throne, it had not merely escaped through space. It had escaped through time as well.

The recently deceased person he had entered had not existed at the same point in time as his true body upon the Golden Throne.

He could enter the bodies of the dead in the past, and perhaps even the bodies of the dead in the future.

He should have realized it sooner.

His will had escaped the Golden Throne through the Warp.

One of the Warp's defining traits was that time did not truly exist there.

The vessels that traveled vast distances through the Warp across the galaxy relied on precisely this trait.

Under certain circumstances, a starship could even arrive at its destination before it had departed.

Still, a case like Zhou Yun's, crossing tens of thousands of years out of thin air, was exceedingly rare...

Zhou Yun quickly realized the value of this body.

Its foremost value was that, if he used this body properly,

he might have a chance to alter the tragedy of the Horus Heresy, prevent the Emperor from ending up on the Golden Throne, and thereby change the future.

If he succeeded, then regardless of how the future changed, he would at least have a chance to avoid being tortured upon that damned Golden Throne.

Its secondary value was this:

Macragge, especially Macragge of this era, was a relatively peaceful world.

From this moment until the end of the Great Crusade, Macragge—and later Ultramar's Five Hundred Worlds, with Macragge as their capital—would remain among the few peaceful places in the entire galaxy.

Even during the Horus Heresy, Macragge would remain relatively stable amid the chaos of the galaxy... though there might occasionally be some Hakimi and Hakibat trouble.

As long as his luck was not exceptionally bad, Zhou Yun could at least live peacefully for several decades without worrying about returning to the Golden Throne.

Whoever wanted to return to that Golden Throne could do so. Whoever wanted to go to Terra could go there.

Neither sounded as good as Macragge.

He was going to enjoy himself on Macragge now.

At that thought, Zhou Yun's mood improved somewhat.

He reached out and continued flipping through the scholar's notebook. As he read on, he came to understand this scholar of Macragge better and better.

He was a teacher at Macragge National Grammar Academy, skilled in linguistics, literature, and history. After only five years in office, he had made a name for himself in Macragge City as a grammar teacher and was regarded as a rising star in academia.

As Zhou Yun learned about the scholar's past, he also acquired some of his abilities.

He began to gain some understanding of Macragge's own history, its poetry and drama, and the grammar of its language. He could simply read ancient Macragge cuneiform and roughly speak the language of Macragge's barbarians.

In Zhou Yun's experience, as time passed and he spent longer within the scholar's body, recalling more and more of the scholar's memories, he would gradually master all of the scholar's skills.

Just as he had acquired the hunting skills of the forest hunter, and the psychic powers and Emperor's Tarot skills of the Diviner.

Suddenly, Zhou Yun turned to a stack of papers tucked inside the diary...

He pulled the stack out, only to discover in surprise that they were all promissory notes.

The coarse yellow paper recorded the amounts owed by the scholar, the scholar's signature, and the seals of the temples that had lent him money.

And the amounts of the debts kept growing larger.

From a mere six denars, to twelve denars, fifty-four denars, three hundred and ninety-six denars... the largest note had been issued last night, before Zhou Yun entered this body, for a full one thousand two hundred and ninety-six denars...

The scholar's annual income was only a little over three hundred denars, while the notes added up to no less than four thousand denars.

Even if the scholar neither ate nor drank, it would take him ten years to repay them.

And as for his current savings... the few coins Zhou Yun had just found were all he had.

Was he insane? How had he even racked up this kind of debt?

Back then, even when the Emperor borrowed from the Warp to create the Primarchs, he had only ended up owing half of them. This scholar, meanwhile, owed more than ten times his annual income!

Some memories began surfacing in Zhou Yun's mind: shaking dice cups, the laughter of men and women, the pleasant buzz of alcohol, and the thrilling rush of blood pounding through his veins.

Zhou Yun rubbed his brow.

He remembered. Not long ago, this scholar had become addicted to gambling, and in just a few months, he had accumulated such a staggering debt.

With this much debt, should he find a way to repay it?

Zhou Yun muttered inwardly...

Pay it back? That was impossible, Zhou Yun thought.

Leaving aside the fact that the only money-making skill Zhou Yun possessed was fortune-telling on the street,

consider his current identity alone. He had transmigrated into the Emperor.

With the Emperor's reputation as one of the galaxy's four great swindlers, forget scanning a shared bicycle by the roadside—he probably could not even unlock a shared unicycle.

If Zhou Yun repaid the money, would that not damage the Emperor's credit score?

Running away was clearly the better choice. Macragge was a mountainous planet; he could find any forest, and with his hunting skills, he could live quite comfortably.

After all, the forest where that forest hunter had lived was filled with bizarre and terrifying beasts and gigantic creatures. Zhou Yun had survived there for months with nothing but hunting skills. Compared to that, Macragge was practically paradise.

The only problem was that if he left Macragge City, how would he come into contact with Robert Guilliman? How would he change the fate of the Horus Heresy?

As Zhou Yun flipped through the promissory notes one by one, he felt a letter pressed beneath them.

The envelope had long since been opened, and the sealing wax had loosened somewhat, but the flap had been folded back neatly. The scholar seemed to care deeply about this letter.

Zhou Yun opened the envelope and took out the letter inside...

"Abbas, steward of House Guilliman, sends greetings to the esteemed scholar Zhou Yun.

Your exceptional performance in the examination left a deep impression on my master. He invites you, along with the other equally outstanding teachers, to visit his residence on the twenty-second day of March..."

Before Zhou Yun could finish reading the letter, a sudden knock sounded at the door. He turned toward it, while also noticing that sunlight had already spilled into the room through the narrow window. Two of the four moons had vanished completely, while the remaining two hung low on the horizon. Dawn had come.

The knocking grew increasingly urgent. The person outside seemed to be growing impatient.