Chapter 1 Crossing Over to a Young Wife

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Winter was coming.

The biting cold gripped the earth, and the yellow loess highlands lay deathly still.

At a bend on the muddy path that wound along the hillside stood a dilapidated courtyard.

On the eastern side of the yard was a ramshackle thatched hut, its mud-yellow walls riddled with cracks. A small pile of firewood leaned against the wall—a makeshift kitchen, perhaps.

At the far end there was a cave dwelling, shrouded in gloom. Through the dim light, one could just make out a figure lying inside.

He was tall, with sword-like brows and bright, starry eyes, the lingering innocence of youth etched across his face. Yet malnutrition had left his complexion sallow and shadowed.

Perhaps it was the bone-deep cold in the room, but the young man stirred, curling in upon himself as he slowly awoke, his head spinning with a wave of nausea.

Bracing himself on the edge of the bed, he tried to rise—only to find his limbs limp and powerless. With a heavy thud, he tumbled to the floor.

“Damn it, I swear I’m never drinking that much again,” he muttered through gritted teeth, grimacing in pain as he struggled to get up.

Just then, a noise sounded from outside. The door curtain lifted, and a woman suddenly entered.

She paused in surprise at the sight of him sprawled on the ground. Before Li Yi could react, she rushed forward and threw herself at him in a fit of emotion.

“Yi, you’re finally awake!”

“Whoa—easy, you’re going to break my back!” he gasped.

The faint fragrance from her hair drifted over him. Li Yi rubbed his eyes, ready to curse, but when he saw that the woman embracing him was a radiant beauty clad in ancient dress, the words caught in his throat.

Her skin glowed with a fair, translucent sheen, her features soft and lovely. Under willow brows, her limpid eyes sparkled with innocence—like a doe, inviting a fierce urge to protect her.

Where had such a stunning girl come from, so eager to throw herself into his arms?

Had he lost his virtue in a drunken stupor?

Or had this beautiful lady in ancient garb taken advantage of him?

Li Yi, still groggy and dizzy, could make neither head nor tail of the situation.

“Thank the Bodhisattva Guanyin, thank all the gods and spirits—my Yi is finally awake!” the young woman cried, her eyes red with tears. She clasped her hands in a heartfelt prayer before hugging him tightly, her overwhelming joy spilling over in sobs.

His head pressed against her chest, the softness of her curves against his cheek, Li Yi felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment.

“Miss, shouldn’t we at least have dinner and watch a movie before we get this intimate? This feels a bit too forward,” he joked, even as his hands, unbidden, circled her slender waist.

He had to admit, this beauty in ancient dress was not only striking of face but possessed a figure as exquisite as a work of art.

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“Yi, what are you saying? What movie?” she asked, eyes round and moist, lips parted in innocent confusion. Her pure and lovely expression stirred in Li Yi a wild urge to bite her.

Steady, steady. That way lies a minimum of three years behind bars, and at worst, the death penalty.

The brief interruption sobered him.

Where was he?

And where had this ancient-dressed beauty come from?

Unsteady on his feet, Li Yi stood up, surveying his surroundings.

Only now did he notice the musty odor that filled the dim room. Against the wall was a kang bed, piled high with threadbare quilts; the wooden cabinet by the headboard was battered and peeling; the mud-yellow walls were split with deep cracks, revealing the straw and bamboo laths beneath.

“What’s going on? Wasn’t I drinking in my rental in Shanghai? How did I end up here?” Li Yi was utterly bewildered.

The girl rushed over to steady him, concern etched on her face. “Yi, your wounds aren’t healed yet. Please, lie down and rest.”

He ignored her, frowning. “My head’s a mess. Where is this place?”

“Why, this is the ancestral residence of the Li family in Shuangquanli, of course.”

“Shuangquanli? Can you be more specific?”

She blinked in confusion, then replied earnestly, “This is Mizhi County, Shaanxi, the ancestral home of the Li family in Shuangquanli.”

His heart skipped a beat as he gazed at the beautiful girl before him. “And who are you?”

“Me?” She seemed taken aback, her voice anxious. “I’m Yun Niang! Yi, please don’t frighten me.”

“Yun Niang?”

Li Yi’s eyes flew open. He staggered to the battered window.

Outside, at the foot of the slope, stood seven or eight tumbledown thatched cottages, smoke curling from blackened chimneys. An old man in coarse brown clothes drove an ox cart into the distance, a farmer with his hair tied up shouldered a hoe as he passed by, while the shouts of women and barking dogs echoed through the air—a tableau of rural life from centuries past.

Turning back to Yun Niang, clad in a blue, cross-collared jacket, Li Yi felt his heart sink.

“What year is it now?”

“Yi, have you forgotten? The era name changed just this year. Of course, it’s the first year of Chongzhen.”

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Chongzhen? Wasn’t that the era of the last Ming emperor, the one who hanged himself from a twisted tree as his dynasty collapsed?

Did this mean he had traveled through time—back to the waning days of the Ming Dynasty?

It was bad enough to fail at starting a business after graduation, to lose his down payment on a house, to be laid off just as he began paying the mortgage. But now, after being hounded by debt collectors and drinking alone in his rented room, he had somehow crossed through time—into an age of chaos and misery.

Heaven, is there no justice? Is there any justice left at all? Why pick me for this, of all people?

Li Yi could not help but curse inwardly. As the original owner’s memories surged back in a torrent, his dizziness intensified and a wave of nausea rose in his gut. Clutching the wall, he retched violently.

Yun Niang, unbothered, hovered beside him with gentle care, soothing his back like a kitten and bringing him a cup of tea.

There was little in his stomach to bring up. After a fit of dry heaving, he managed to sip a bowl of hot tea, and gradually his mind cleared.

The blurred memories slowly came into focus.

The original owner’s name was also Li Yi, not yet sixteen years old. Orphaned early, he survived on the charity of kin, which had made him reserved and dull, ignorant of the ways of the world. Because of this, he shunned company and devoted himself to practicing the family spear techniques, becoming both strong and a skilled martial artist.

As for Yun Niang, she was his betrothed.

Her father had once been an official, exiled for some crime. Out of filial piety, Yun Niang had followed her father to the borderlands, renting a place with Li Yi’s cousin, Li Zijing. Later her father, overcome with grief, passed away. Left alone and destitute, Yun Niang was brought to Li Yi’s home by Li Zijing, who asked bluntly, “Yi, do you want a wife or not?”

Li Yi, dull by nature, did not know how to reply, but Li Zijing simply brought Yun Niang to live with him, to await their marriage when he turned sixteen.

Fortunately, Yun Niang found him honest, large of stature, and sincere, and so she stayed in the Li family home, awaiting the day of their union.

The memories came in fits and starts, headache and confusion dogging him. Li Yi was unwilling to dwell on them further.

If his recollection was correct, the first year of Chongzhen was a time of peasant uprisings in the northwest—Wang Jiayin and Gao Yingxiang were fugitives with nowhere to run, while Li Zicheng and Zhang Xianzhong were gathering their strength for rebellion. To the north, Ligdan Khan dreamed of uniting the Mongols and waged endless war with other tribes. In the northeast, the Later Jin under Hong Taiji was clawing its way out of collapse, sharpening its blades for the Ming. And in the Forbidden City, the young Chongzhen Emperor rose early and worked late, dreaming vainly of restoring the empire.

The era of chaos had begun. If nothing changed, the coming decades would see the land shattered, beasts ruling over men, and people devouring one another. When the Qing conquered the heartland—ten days of slaughter in Yangzhou, three massacres in Jiading—the best among the Chinese died for their country, Han men were forced to shave their forelocks and bow with their rat-tail queues. A great civilization, creator of wonders, was castrated; its people left ignorant and downtrodden, its scholar-gentry’s pride ground to dust, and countless humiliations written into history.

The age of turmoil had begun, the nation teetered on the brink. Could the arrival of a single butterfly—himself—alter the course of fate?

Li Yi stared out the window at the world beyond. Perhaps, in this new era, he—a man who had achieved nothing in his previous life—might yet carve out a legacy of greatness...

The thought took root deep within his heart, sprouting anxiety, restlessness, apprehension—and a faint, irrepressible hope.