He had heard the servants of the Marquis's Mansion discussing this book in private.

It was roughly a story about a woman who disguised herself as a man, taking on the Incarnation of a man, to serve as a magistrate in a remote county.

She solved cases like a god, stood up for the people, and governed the county in perfect order.

Because it was written so realistically, even the few literate maids in the mansion were secretly passing it around, and it was said that even the eldest Young Miss had read it.

But in Zhou Ming's view, this was purely nonsense.

In the era of information explosion from his past life, such a plot would have eight hundred common-sense loopholes pointed out at a single glance.

Which dynasty doesn't require identity verification when selecting a magistrate? How could it be possible for a woman to slip through the cracks and become the master of a county?

You have to know, this is a proper ancient society, with strict etiquette and clear distinctions between superior and inferior.

Women could only embroider and practice needlework in their boudoirs, managing the inner household and taking care of chores. Let alone being a magistrate, even going out for a trip required reporting through layers of authorization.

Look at those Young Misses at the West Mountain Poetry Gathering the day before yesterday; wasn't every single one of them surrounded by layers of maids and matrons?

For a woman to be a magistrate, she would first have to deceive the Ministry of Personnel's selection verification, deceive the eyes of her colleagues, deceive the observation of the yamen runners, and deceive all the commoners in the county.

This probability was even lower than him walking out the door now and picking up an Immortal Emperor Cultivation Technique.

However, he also understood why such storybooks would circulate among the maids in the Marquis's Mansion.

In this world with strict rules and clear in Rank, the more tightly bound people were, the more they liked to read stories about breaking the rules.

For a woman to be able to walk out of her boudoir, wear official robes, and sit in the public hall issuing orders was, for them, no less than seeing the entrance to another world.

The more things that couldn't be done in reality, the more they needed to be satisfied in storybooks.

This mindset has been the same throughout history; it's the same principle as binge-watching shows in later generations.

Thinking of this, Zhou Ming suddenly had an idea.

He bared his teeth, pretending to squat with extreme difficulty, while clearing his throat and speaking in a voice that trembled slightly from "pain."

"Sister Dongmei, that storybook you're reading is boring. I have a better story; do you want to hear it?"

"Just squat properly in your Horse Stance. Where do you get all this nonsense?"

Dongmei didn't even lift her head, turning another page of the book, her voice as calm as water.

"No, Sister Dongmei, I really have a good story. After I finish the Horse Stance, I'll tell you a part. Just listen to two sentences; if it's not good, I won't say another word from now on."

Dongmei finally lifted her eyelids from the storybook and gave Zhou Ming a suspicious look.

This kid was half-dead and pathetic yesterday; how does he have the mood to tell her a story today?

Her gaze lingered on his sharp-mouthed, monkey-cheeked face for three seconds, as if judging what medicine he was selling in his gourd, then she lowered her head again and turned a page of the book noncommittally.

Zhou Ming took this as tacit consent, shaking his legs while quickly searching for material in his mind.

Ancient romance, palace and household intrigue, female emperor comebacks, real and fake heiresses, divine doctor poison concubines—he could sort out the story arcs for these tropes with his eyes closed.

Since Dongmei liked reading stories about The Female Protagonist, he would give her something potent.

He remembered a story about The Female Protagonist he had read in his past life. He couldn't quite remember the title, but he still remembered the general story arc clearly even now.

It was roughly about a woman from a grassroots background, how she climbed up step by step from the very bottom, and finally ascended to the position of the supreme ruler.

This story wasn't the kind of petty squabble about cross-dressing like in "Fake Crown, Real Decree," but a serious female comeback.

The Female Protagonist took the imperial examinations as a woman, quelled rebellions, fought powerful ministers, and recruited famous generals.

From a commoner to someone with power over the court, finally ascending to the imperial throne amidst the kneeling of all the civil and military officials, changing the reign title and establishing institutions, bringing great peace to the world.

He didn't believe Dongmei wouldn't be moved.

Dongmei turned two more pages of the storybook and finally placed the book on her knees.

She lifted her eyelids to glance at Zhou Ming's legs, which were shaking as if they were about to fall apart, and slowly spat out two words: "Stop."

Zhou Ming felt as if he had been granted amnesty; he collapsed right where he was, sitting on the ground with his legs stretched straight out, gasping for air.

He gasped with great effort, his chest heaving violently, with a few dry, hoarse wheezes coming from his throat, looking just like a fish slapped onto the shore with its white belly turned up.

"Sister Dongmei," he gasped for two breaths, wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve, "I'll tell you right now."

Dongmei closed the storybook and placed it on her knees, crossed her arms, and leaned back against the backrest of the folding stool, with an expression that said, "Go ahead, if you tell it badly, get lost and go back to squatting."

Zhou Ming didn't use any buildup, opening with a hook:

"It is said there was a woman, born in the wilderness, whose father was a village private school teacher and whose mother was a medicine woman."

"When she was ten years old, a troop of routed soldiers passed through her village and slaughtered everyone; her parents both died under those blades."

"She crawled out from a pile of corpses, used the half-packet of arsenic her mother left behind to poison three straggling routed soldiers, and avenged her parents."

"She was only ten that year. Later, she climbed her way up, and at the age of twenty-three, as a woman—she ascended to the throne as Empress."

Dongmei's brows moved slightly; her body, which had been leaning against the back of the chair, tilted forward slightly, and her fingers tapping on her arms stopped.

Zhou Ming pretended not to see it, shifted the topic, and began to tell the story from the beginning.

He started from The Female Protagonist's childhood as a refugee, telling how she was taken in by a medicine merchant, how she learned medicine and identified herbs from the merchant, and how she used her medical skills to support herself in troubled times.

He told of her first time disguising herself as a man to make a house call, being harassed by a local thug, not retreating, but instead using a needle to seal the opponent's Acupoints, forcing the thug to kneel and beg for mercy.

He told of her traveling north practicing medicine, witnessing the myriad facets of life in troubled times: mothers selling their children, old farmers whose land had been seized by wealthy squires, and merchants who had been skinned three times over by corrupt officials but dared not speak a word.

He told of how she gradually was no longer satisfied with just curing illnesses, but began to cure the people.

Zhou Ming's voice was not loud, but his articulation was clear and his logic was distinct.

He had read so many novels in his past life; although he hadn't written one himself, the tropes and sense of rhythm he knew by heart were solid.

When he told these background stories, his pace was neither fast nor slow, detailing The Female Protagonist's mental journey from practicing medicine to deciding to enter the officialdom.

But he only glossed over the trivial official experiences, focusing on The Female Protagonist's first trial.

An old farmer whose land had been seized by a wealthy squire complained to the county office, and The Female Protagonist, having become the magistrate while disguised as a man, sat in the hall for the first time, her hand still trembling as she slapped the gavel.

But she stubbornly withstood the threats of the wealthy squire, judged the case, and returned the land deed to the old farmer.

As Dongmei listened, she leaned back against the backrest of the folding stool, her face still wearing that calm and indifferent expression.

But her movement of leaning back was a beat slower than usual, and her brows were slightly furrowed, as if she were pondering how that female magistrate withstood the pressure to judge the case.

Zhou Ming told the story while glancing at the sky out of the corner of his eye.