Chapter One: The Age of Despair

A biting west wind whipped up clouds of wild sand. Along the ancient road, a dozen warhorses escorted a carriage, galloping at breakneck speed, the yellow dust kicked up by their hooves filling the sky.

"Boss, let's stop and rest. We can take this grueling pace, but the beasts can't."

The leader scanned their surroundings before nodding. "Alright, we'll take a brief rest."

The horses came to a halt beside a grove of trees. The men dismounted one after another, sitting down to rest while their mounts grazed on the green grass. The leader walked to the front of the carriage and said with a smile, "Uncle Liu, why don't you step out for some air? Jolting around in that carriage must have been torture for you."

The curtain was lifted, and a plump elderly man poked his head out, smiling ruefully. "To tell you the truth, Lu Yong, these old bones of mine nearly shook to pieces."

"Uncle Liu, it's not just you; even we can barely stand it. But who could have guessed the rebels would push all the way to Ningwu? We were nearly trapped and unable to escape!"

The old man climbed down from the carriage and sat on a flat blue stone, sighing. "These past years, the rebels and the Tartars beyond the Great Wall have been like actors on a stage—one takes the bow, the other enters. There hasn't been a single moment of peace. The imperial court has been bled dry. Though General Zhou of Ningwu Pass is brave, I fear he is fighting a losing battle alone."

Lu Yong sighed as well. "Sigh. I used to be in the army myself. If Ningwu falls, Shanxi is finished. If Shanxi cannot be held, I'm afraid Li Zicheng's army will march straight in and strike the Capital. I wonder if the Emperor has any strategy. If not, this empire is doomed!"

"In rise or fall, it is the common people who suffer," the old man said, lowering his voice as he spoke to Lu Yong. "Once we return to the Capital, I shall submit my resignation to the Duke and retire to my hometown. You boys should also look for a way out. We're just doing a job; don't end up losing your heads for it!"

Lu Yong nodded repeatedly. As they were speaking, the guard Sun Cheng suddenly shouted, "Who's there?"

This shout startled everyone. Lu Yong sprang to his feet. "Old Sun, what are you yelling for? Have the rebels caught up to us?"

At the mention of rebels, panic gripped the men. They scrambled to their feet, drawing their swords and sabers, looking around in terror.

"Boss, it's not the rebels. Look over there, something seems to be moving."

Lu Yong looked in the direction Sun Cheng was pointing. Amidst the underbrush, there was a dark, indistinguishable mass. Steeling his nerves, Lu Yong gripped his iron spear tightly and took a few steps forward to inspect it closely, the others following close behind.

The old man asked curiously, "Lu Yong, what is it?"

"Uncle Liu, it looks like a person." As he spoke, the others gathered around. Sure enough, lying in the bushes just a few paces away was a man. His entire body was covered in soot and burn marks, and even his hair seemed to have been singed away.

"Boss, dead bodies are everywhere these days. Let's just get back on the road and leave it be."

Hearing his subordinate's words, Lu Yong felt it made sense. He turned back to look at the old man, seeking his opinion.

The old man stepped closer. His gaze was instantly locked onto the figure. Hurrying forward, he knelt and lifted the person from the ground without hesitation. Although the face was covered in soot, the youth's features were still faintly discernible. He was young, with handsome, sharp features and a tall build. As the old man lifted him, he could feel the prominent, sturdy muscles beneath the grime.

A complex emotion flashed in the old man's eyes, which grew slightly red, and his arms tightened around the youth. Suddenly, the young man's lips parted slightly, and a faint murmur escaped: "Water... water..."

"Lu Yong, quick, bring the waterskin!"

Lu Yong nodded hastily. The old man took the waterskin and slowly poured the sweet spring water into the youth's mouth. After drinking more than half of the waterskin, the look of pain on the young man's face finally faded, and his breathing stabilized.

The old man finally let out a long sigh of relief. "Lu Yong, quickly carry him to my carriage."

"Uncle Liu, our priority is returning to the Capital. Taking someone like this might delay us!" Sun Cheng said from the side.

The old man ignored him, instead pointing at the youth and saying in a trembling voice, "Lu Yong, look at him. Who does he look like?"

Lu Yong looked closely and gasped in realization. "He does! He really does! Don't worry, we must save this man!"

With that, he bent down and took the youth from the old man's arms, shouting, "Brothers, lend a hand. Let's get him onto the carriage first."

The men did not dare to disobey. Working together, they lifted the young man into the carriage. Once he was settled, the old man sat inside to tend to him personally, and the group resumed their rapid journey along the official road.

***

Gu Zhenghua felt completely sore and weak, without a shred of strength. His eyelids felt like heavy iron gates; no matter how hard he tried, they wouldn't budge.

However, his consciousness was gradually returning. He remembered clearly that he had arranged a date with his girlfriend of three years to watch a meteor shower in the suburbs. Under the witness of the shooting stars, he had planned to formally propose, ending his days as a golden bachelor.

But who could have known that as his sports car sped toward the outskirts, a massive meteor would suddenly streak across the sky? Though intensely burned by the atmosphere, a piece the size of a watermelon still managed to crash directly onto Gu Zhenghua's car.

Gu Zhenghua only remembered a blinding, searing red light, and then nothing. Being struck by a meteorite was almost certainly fatal, yet after an unknown amount of time, he actually felt a glimmer of consciousness returning.

He felt as though he were lying on something that was constantly jolting and swaying, like a boat tossed on the waves. After a long while, the jolting finally stopped, and he heard voices speaking.

"Uncle Liu, the town doctor fled long ago. For now, he'll just have to pull through on his own."

"Sigh, we'll have to wait until we return to the Capital. Eight years have passed in the blink of an eye, and I thought I had forgotten everything. But seeing this young man lying there, covered in soot, reminded me of He Fang, who was burned to death. Damned Tartar soldiers—they killed my only son!" the old man said, gritting his teeth in hatred.

"Uncle Liu, if it weren't for Brother He, I would have died at the hands of those Tartars too. My life was given to me by him, so you should treat me as your own son. If this young man wakes up, since he looks so much like Brother He, perhaps he can be your godson."

"Sigh, I've met countless people in my life. This young man looks even more heroic than He Fang. He will surely achieve great things in the future. Becoming this old man's godson would only hold him back."

...

"Uncle Liu, do you think this man could be one of the rebels?"

"Who knows? We'll ask when he wakes up."

...

Tartars? Rebels? Hearing these two terms was like a bolt from the blue to Gu Zhenghua, scaring the wits out of him!

These were terms found only in history books. Unless he was on a television set, there was only one possibility: the legendary phenomenon of time travel! The thought that he might have been transported to another era made Gu Zhenghua break into a cold sweat. In sheer disbelief, a sudden surge of strength welled up from somewhere within him, and he finally forced his eyes open.

What met his eyes was a rustic little room. He was lying on a wooden bed. Not far away, at a square table, sat an old man and a middle-aged man. The old man wore a long robe and a scholar's cap, while the middle-aged man wore tight-fitting martial attire with a sword at his waist.

Seeing their attire and the surrounding furnishings, Gu Zhenghua could not help but sigh in despair. It seemed he really had transmigrated! Thinking of his career, his family, and his beloved girlfriend, Gu Zhenghua wanted to weep but had no tears. He felt suffocated by grief. Why, just as the best parts of his life were beginning, did fate have to throw him into an unknown era? Was this some cruel joke?

As Gu Zhenghua looked around blankly, Lu Yong happened to catch his gaze and smiled in pleasant surprise. "Uncle Liu, this kid is tough. He woke up so quickly."

The old man also stood up quickly and walked to the bedside, asking with concern, "Young man, how do you feel? Is there any discomfort?"

Gu Zhenghua's mental fortitude was quite remarkable. Although he still found it hard to accept the reality of transmigration, he knew these two had saved his life. He quickly said, "Thank you, benefactors, for saving my life. My name is Gu Zhenghua. May I know how to address you?"

The old man smiled and said, "This old man is called He Zhonghou, an accountant in the household of the Duke of Cheng. This is Lu Yong, a guard of the estate. We happened to come across you on our way back to the Capital. What on earth happened to you?"

The Duke of Cheng! That sounded like a high-ranking official. Connecting himself with such a figure might be a good thing, Gu Zhenghua calculated silently.

"Elder He, Brother Lu, my village was raided by bandits. They stole all our grain and set a massive fire before they left. I barely managed to escape, and after that, I lost consciousness."

Gu Zhenghua gave a vague explanation. He Zhonghou and Lu Yong did not think much of it. In these chaotic times of war, such tragedies were all too common.

He Zhonghou sighed. "Do not grieve too much. I had the kitchen prepare some chicken soup. Have some first; you must be starving."

Just then, the innkeeper's assistant brought in a large bowl of chicken soup. Gu Zhenghua was indeed famished. He took the bowl with both hands and gulped it down.

Free of any modern pollution, the brewed chicken soup was exceptionally delicious. Soon, most of the bowl was in his stomach, and Gu Zhenghua's mind grew clearer. It seemed he had indeed transmigrated. The most urgent task now was to find out exactly what year it was. After all, the mention of "Tartars" and "rebels" filled him with unease. He prayed he hadn't ended up in that tragic era!

"Elder He, what date is it today? How long have I been asleep?"

"Today is the twenty-seventh day of the second lunar month. It has only been an afternoon since we found you. The young truly have strong constitutions to recover so quickly."

"Elder, I meant to ask... what year is it?"

He Zhonghou was taken aback. How could anyone not even know the year? Beside him, Lu Yong could not help but laugh. "Brother Gu, has the fire muddled your brain, or did you think you were asleep for months? It is the seventeenth year of the Chongzhen reign! We have just returned from Shanxi, and we nearly ran into the rebel army on the road. They are probably attacking Ningwu Pass as we speak."

Crash! The large bowl slipped from his hands and shattered into pieces on the floor.

The seventeenth year of Chongzhen! These words crashed down upon Gu Zhenghua's mind like a mountain, leaving him dizzy. Anyone with even a passing knowledge of history knew that this was the very year the Great Ming Dynasty fell. Li Zicheng's army would march into Beijing, and a month later, Wu Sangui would lead the Qing troops through the Shanhai Pass. With the Crisis of the Jiashen Year, the land of China would plunge into its darkest era.

*Heavens, you've really screwed me over! Sending me here—do you want me to wear a queue and live as a slave to the Qing?* Gu Zhenghua roared in despair from the depths of his soul.