A small-time judge from the 21st century transmigrates to another world.

Here, martial arts flourish and a hundred schools of thought contend.

Confucianism: Righteousness as vast as the heavens, impervious to all evils.

Legalism: The power of rules, law follows every word.

Military Strategy: The power of attack and conquest, invincible wherever it goes.

Mohism: Ingenious mechanisms, mortals rivaling the gods.

Yin-Yang School: Numerology and the five elements, divination and fortune-telling, seeking good fortune and avoiding disaster.

...

What, Legalists can grow stronger just by judging cases?

Emily Thompson has just set his ambition to uphold justice for the people and punish the wicked, only to discover that his own father is the greatest villain in the imperial court.

Facing countless enemies out for his father's blood, Emily Thompson says he only needs one sentence.

""Wife, protect me!""

Alternate title: ""My wife is invincible—just try laying a finger on me!""

Chapter 1 New Account, Don’t Mess Around

""Scoundrel, prepare to die!""

A crisp, angry shout exploded by his ear, jolting the just-asleep Emily Thompson awake.

Still groggy, he saw a figure standing before him.

A girl in a flowing white ancient-style dress, about sixteen or seventeen, with a slender, graceful figure, skin as fair as snow, and delicate, beautiful features—no less stunning than a celebrity, except her expression was far from pleasant.

More than just unpleasant—her furious eyes brimmed with deep-seated hatred, and she gripped a gleaming dagger in her hand, as if Emily Thompson had done something utterly unforgivable to her.

What’s going on, COSPLAY?

In just two hours, court would be in session. As a judge’s assistant, Emily Thompson had pulled an all-nighter, just finished organizing the case files, and was lying on a cramped folding bed in the office corner, planning to catch a quick nap to recharge. He’d barely fallen asleep before being rudely awakened.

Wait, this isn’t the assistant’s office. Emily Thompson looked around and found himself lying on a luxurious bed, the room’s furnishings antique and elegant, exuding extreme opulence.

So, is this a dream?

What a bizarre dream—he’d been too busy lately to even watch any period dramas...

Whoosh!

Before Emily Thompson could react in the dream, the girl struck.

The dagger sliced through the air, stabbing toward Emily Thompson’s neck.

Even knowing it was a dream, Emily Thompson instinctively dodged.

He managed to avoid it, but not completely.

The dagger, originally aimed at Emily Thompson’s neck, was thrown off by his evasive move, leaving a gash on his shoulder instead.

The shoulder of his silk pajamas, embroidered with intricate patterns, was instantly stained red with blood.

Pain!

It hurt so much!

Emily Thompson’s rather handsome face twisted in agony, sweat beading on his forehead. He hadn’t expected pain in a dream to feel so real!

Having missed a vital spot, the girl thrust her dagger at his heart again.

Both attacks aimed straight for Emily Thompson’s life!

Having handled many cases, Emily Thompson knew well that facing a knife-wielding assailant, you mustn’t fight head-on. He scrambled to the corner of the bed, rolling and crawling, while the girl leapt after him, dagger in relentless pursuit.

This time, cornered, Emily Thompson had nowhere left to hide.

Pressed into the corner, Emily Thompson gave up resisting.

Usually, dying in a dream means the dream ends.

The sooner he dies, the sooner he wakes up—he still had to get to work.

Emily Thompson resigned himself, but the girl’s dagger stopped short of his heart.

The sharp blade halted less than half an inch from Emily Thompson’s chest.

Emily Thompson thought maybe she’d had a change of heart and didn’t want to harm the innocent, but when he looked up, he saw the girl’s expression was odd.

Her face was flushed, sweat beading on her brow, as if she was using all her strength to drive the dagger into Emily Thompson’s heart, but her body seemed to be restrained by some invisible force—she couldn’t move at all.

Seizing the chance, Emily Thompson jumped off the bed. At the same time, the door was kicked open with a tremendous force, and an elderly man with graying hair rushed in. Seeing that Emily Thompson was only lightly injured, he visibly relaxed, hurried over, and cupped his fists: ""This old servant is late—please forgive me, young master!""

Emily Thompson was completely confused, but he knew he should be waking up from this dream.

Who knows how long he’d slept—he’d missed the court session and would probably get his pay docked.

How do you wake up from a dream again?

Death, falling, or a violent impact...

That’s what they said in Inception. Suicide was out—even in a dream, the pain was real. As for falling... there wasn’t anywhere high enough nearby. In the end, Emily Thompson looked at a thick pillar in the room.

Ignoring the old man and the girl, Emily Thompson took a running start and, to everyone’s shock and confusion, rammed his head straight into the pillar.

Bang!

Before he could even feel the pain in his forehead, Emily Thompson’s consciousness began to sink into a bottomless abyss.

...

""Ha...""

Daylight streamed in. Emily Thompson yawned and climbed out of bed.

""Hiss...""

A sharp pain shot through his forehead and shoulder. Emily Thompson frowned, raised his hand to touch his forehead, and froze.

Why is there such a big bump?

He looked down at his shoulder—a bloodstained bandage stood out starkly.