Chapter Twenty: Even in Imitation, One Must Devote Heart and Soul

"Mr. Zhuge Bu Liang, the impostor who claims to be you is inside. Please, come in and take a look."

"Very well. I've been wanting to see who could be so brazen as to impersonate me. After you, Magistrate."

"Please!"

The muffled voices outside the door made Ming Tian's brows arch ever so slightly.

Excellent. Quite reasonable. I have never witnessed such shamelessness.

The oiled-less wooden door groaned with a piercing sound, akin to fingernails scratching across a blackboard, sending shivers down the spine.

First to enter was a man clad in red robes, appearing to be around sixty, though the harshness of ancient times aged its people; in truth, he was likely only forty-something. Upon his head was a tall, black cap, marking him as the magistrate of Douhu Prefecture.

Behind him trailed a young man dressed in mink robes, boots inlaid with agate, his face as fair as jade. He was adorned with every extravagance imaginable, radiating opulence from head to toe.

This must be the man impersonating me, Ming Tian thought, yet his attire was excessively ostentatious. To Ming Tian's eyes, the man might as well have been clothed in money.

His eyes narrowed ever so slightly, lips parted in a rosy sigh, and he walked with the signature slouch of a pretentious dandy; every gesture exuded a pungent air of affectation.

Indeed, the first impression was overwhelming arrogance, as if the words "arrogant beyond compare" were emblazoned across his face.

By comparison, Ming Tian, prostrate on the ground, looked every bit the beggar.

But handsome? Ming Tian couldn't see what was handsome about this counterfeit; his skin was smooth, but why would a grown man wear powder?

His face seemed covered in cling film and doused with vegetable oil.

The fake Zhuge Bu Liang glanced at Ming Tian, snorted contemptuously, and sneered, "I wondered who would dare impersonate me, and it turns out to be a filthy beggar. Hey, you wretch, have you no shame? Do you even know your place?"

He rolled his eyes, brimming with disdain.

The magistrate bowed obsequiously to the impostor and said, "My Lord Marquis, how shall we deal with these criminals?"

The scene disgusted Ming Tian as he lay on the ground.

Clearly, the invention of identification was one of humanity's greatest achievements.

Ming Tian considered showing his token, but the magistrate's demeanor made him dismiss the thought.

This was a prison, and everyone here was the magistrate's man. If Ming Tian exposed the impostor now, it would mean the magistrate had failed in his duties; the fact that the magistrate would dare imprison the Marquis was a capital offense.

Officials, especially corrupt ones, have always been capable of unspeakable acts. So if Ming Tian revealed his token, the magistrate would realize the gravity of the situation.

If the magistrate was corrupt, he would likely kill both Ming Tian and the impostor to bury the matter. After all, the emperor is far away, there is no surveillance, and such cases easily become unsolved murders.

Mutual destruction? Unless there was no hope, Ming Tian would never choose such folly.

"This trash deserves death," the counterfeit Zhuge Bu Liang said coolly, then gestured with a slashing motion.

"Yes, yes!" The magistrate understood immediately and shouted to the guards, "Take these criminals who dare impersonate the Marquis. No need for trial—drag them out and execute them!"

As expected.

Ming Tian sighed inwardly.

If I were you, and someone impersonated me—especially as a beggar thrown in jail—I would certainly not kill the impostor.

Why? Because it proves my fame! Someone impersonating me is essentially free advertising. What man doesn't like renown?

Moreover, if someone impersonates me just to eat, reduced to begging, it means they're truly desperate. Killing them would be an act of cruelty.

That is the fundamental difference between you, this high-grade counterfeit, and me.

Since you are so base and ruthless, you must have prepared for the consequences of being exposed. In that case, I will show no mercy.

Hoisted by two soldiers, Ming Tian shook his head in resignation and finally spoke.

"Yes, I am the impostor, but I doubt you are the real Zhuge Bu Liang!"

He spoke loudly, ensuring even the guards outside could hear.

Now was not the time to reveal proof of his identity, or else he might perish alongside the impostor.

The correct approach was simple.

Ming Tian's words clearly enraged the magistrate, whose beard bristled like a startled cat. He strode forward and slapped Ming Tian.

"Insolent! Despicable criminal, even at death's door you spread lies? If this is not Zhuge Bu Liang, then tell me—where is he?"

He turned to curry favor with the counterfeit, waving his long sleeves with an air of uprightness.

"As everyone knows, four days ago, Zhuge Bu Liang captivated the Lady of Jiangmen at Sumen with his culinary skills and peerless looks. Two days ago, he passed through our Douhu Prefecture, as a guest in my home. How could such a noble man be sullied by the likes of you?"

The impostor basked in the praise, lifting his chin with pride and flicking his hair, though it was so greasy from lack of soap it could fry chicken.

Pretend all you like! Let's see how long you can keep this up. You'll soon receive a surprise and a chill.

Ming Tian cleared his throat and spoke with calm composure.

"But it is widely known that when Zhuge Bu Liang left Sumen, the Lady of Jiangmen sent a deputy general as his bodyguard, named An Luo, a commander of the Di Tribe's Storm Army. Born with immense strength, he has the power to overwhelm mountains, and the courage to stand alone against thousands. If I must die, to fall by the hand of such a hero would leave me without regret."

The impostor's composure vanished, his eyes widened, beads of sweat appeared on his brow, and his breath grew erratic.

Ming Tian was a master of observation; such details could not escape him.

Pretend on, let me see how long you can keep it up.

The magistrate cast a suspicious glance at the impostor.

Ming Tian, holding back his laughter, donned an air of righteousness and addressed the magistrate.

"Magistrate, to be frank, I impersonated the Marquis because I am poor and desperate, but also out of admiration for him. Please, for the sake of my devotion, let me die at An Luo's hand!"

At this, the magistrate grew nervous, hurrying to the impostor and timidly asked, "My Lord Marquis, where is General An Luo? Since you arrived, I have yet to see him."

Ming Tian deliberately used 'widely known' rather than 'rumored' when mentioning An Luo. Even if the magistrate was unaware, he could not admit it.

This was a classic negotiation tactic: when uncertain whether the other party knows something, state it as common knowledge, compelling them to feign understanding to save face.

In ancient times, to admit ignorance would be a grave offense, implying negligence in office. If the magistrate did know, the statement would seem merely courteous.

"This…" The impostor faltered, his eyes darting as he forced a smile. "Ah, Magistrate, to tell the truth, An Luo has caught a cold and cannot be seen. That is why he has not appeared."

"Oh, so that's it..."

"Is that so?" Ming Tian interjected before the magistrate could reply. "I heard An Luo was born with the strength of a god and has never been ill. How could he fall sick now?"

"This…" The impostor's face betrayed his anxiety, sweat dripping like rain, unable to answer.

The magistrate's gaze grew increasingly suspicious.

A moment later, the impostor, enraged and humiliated, shouted, "Insolent! You criminal, what business is it of yours where An Luo is? How dare you presume to know? Guards, drag him out and execute him!"

The soldiers, commanded, prepared to drag Ming Tian and An Luo away.

Facing imminent death, Ming Tian smiled.

"Wait."

As Ming Tian expected, the magistrate halted the soldiers, his cunning eyes full of suspicion.

"Magistrate, what do you mean by this?" The impostor was clearly flustered, swallowing nervously.

The magistrate was no fool—killing these criminals was minor, but if the guest he hosted was a fake Marquis, it would be a disaster.

His hosting of the Marquis was known throughout the city. There was no hiding it; if the man before him was not the Marquis, the best course was to expose him. Otherwise, when the truth came out later, he would lose everything.

"My Lord Marquis, you have been in Douhu Prefecture for two days, and I have not seen General An Luo. This is my failing. Please, take me to him so I may fulfill my duty as host."

He spoke politely, but his words dripped with murderous intent.

"I…" The impostor's face turned pale as gold paper, unable to utter a single word.

Ming Tian could hardly contain his laughter at the sight.

It was time for the final blow.

Ming Tian spoke, "Magistrate, are you doubting the Marquis? To doubt the Marquis is to commit the crime of deceiving the sovereign."

At these words, the magistrate blanched.

The impostor seemed relieved, about to say something.

But Ming Tian was not the sort to allow respite. He quickly continued,

"Is it not simple for the Marquis to prove himself? Why trouble An Luo? The Marquis is famed for his unrivaled culinary skill, which won the heart of the Lady of Jiangmen. I too know a thing or two about cooking. Why not let the magistrate judge, the people watch, and have a contest? You can prove your innocence and display your skill—two birds with one stone."

You dare impersonate me? Today I will show you that imitation requires heart!

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