Chapter 1

"Where am I?" Xiao Letian opened his eyes groggily, but all he could see were the cold winds shaking the trees and the towering mountains.

"How did the weather suddenly get so cold? I remember it wasn't this cold when I entered the mountains. What about the campfire, the tent, and the backpack I used as a pillow?" The only proof that he was still at the original campsite was the slowly flowing stream beside him, but why had the surrounding trees suddenly become so dense?

Xiao Letian felt completely drained of energy, as if he had just completed a long and arduous hike, and all his strength had been exhausted.

"Water... I need some water..." Xiao Letian mustered some strength and struggled to crawl towards the stream. When he finally touched the icy water, his head began to spin uncontrollably.

At that moment, footsteps and a hurried voice came from behind him. Xiao Letian tried to turn around, but before he could, everything went black, and he fainted on the rocky beach.

"Coming to camp in the Taihang Mountains this time was a huge mistake..." This was the last thought in Xiao Letian's mind before he lost consciousness.

Not far from where Xiao Letian lay unconscious, there were three muffled thuds, and the bushes on the hillside shook violently. Then came the excited cheers of a group of people: "Sir Qing, your archery is truly magnificent, just like Li Guang and Little Huahong..." Several soldiers in the Eight Banners uniforms rushed into the hillside grass and soon pulled out a large, fat rabbit.

Sir Qing, a renowned archer and one of the eight major Manchu surnames, the Fucha family, was known for his unparalleled archery skills. Normally, he would have been flattered by the soldiers' flattery and might even have thrown some copper coins as a reward.

However, today, Sir Qing showed no excitement upon hearing the flattery. His eyes were fixed on a tall man on horseback not far away. Upon closer inspection, it turned out to be a foreigner.

"General Qing... Your archery is truly remarkable, better than the best archery masters in Japan... Don't you want to take a photo? I'll give you one to record your posture..." The foreigner said, and his assistant, a black man named Simon, aimed the camera at Sir Qing.

This was too much for Sir Qing's subordinates, who threw away the dead rabbit and jumped in front of the horse to protect him. "Sir, get off the horse. This is a foreigner's soul-stealing device. One photo and you lose a bit of your soul... Foreigner, I've always known you're no good, and now you've shown your true colors. If you have the nerve, come at us..."

Oh, it seemed these soldiers were homegrown, with a loyalty that was rare among Qing soldiers. Sir Qing, who had just been so composed, was now pulled off the horse by a homegrown soldier and hid behind the group, unable to speak coherently.

"Stop... Stop... This is Qing territory. How can you act so recklessly? Put down your demonic device..."

As the foreigner and the Qing official were in a standoff, a figure suddenly ran from the east, shouting, "Sir... Gentlemen, please come and see, we've caught a remnant of the Taiping rebels..." The runner was a young apprentice wearing a melon-shaped hat and a blue robe, drenched in sweat.

Upon hearing about the Taiping remnant, Sir Qing and the foreigner immediately rushed to the west. They circled around a large white rock over four meters high and found that the people in the caravan had already formed a circle. The apprentices were armed with knives and sticks, surrounding a young man lying unconscious on the ground.

"Mr. Fan, what's going on? Where did you find him?" Sir Qing asked a thin old man in a black silk robe with a goatee, whose eyes sparkled with intelligence. He was the head of the caravan, a major merchant from the Shanxi Fan family.

"Sir, we didn't notice him when the caravan rested. Later, when the apprentices went to fetch water, they found him by the stream, thinking he was a stranded mountain villager. But when they brought him back, I was shocked..."

Mr. Fan was right. When Sir Qing and the foreigner looked down, they found that the young man, with his fair and handsome face, was indeed peculiar. First, he had no braid, and his hair looked like it had just grown back after a haircut. His clothes were also strange, resembling Western-style clothing, with a black, two-piece outfit that felt like it was made of some kind of leather.

If he were a monk, he wouldn't have the burn marks on his head. If he were a remnant of the Taiping rebels, he wouldn't be wearing Western-style clothes. Even Sir Qing, with his extensive knowledge, couldn't figure out who this person was. Subconsciously, he and Mr. Fan glanced at the foreigner.

Before the foreigner could speak, the young man on the ground suddenly moved. "Water... Give me water..." The foreigner quickly had Simon take out a water bottle and poured half a bottle of water into the young man's mouth. The fair young man finally opened his eyes.

"Oh, it's an international friend who saved me? I didn't expect you to come here to the countryside instead of visiting the Great Wall in Beijing... thank you... thank you..." As the young man tried to converse in English with the African friend, his eyes finally focused on the group of people in Qing dynasty attire surrounding him, and he immediately sat up in shock.

"Oh God... Are you filming a movie? Shooting on location?"

Before he could finish, one of Sir Qing's subordinates splashed a bucket of cold water on him. "Wake up, wake up... You sound like a man from the capital, but why are you speaking in a foreigner's language? Are you a collaborator?"

The cold water immediately woke the young man up. He carefully observed his surroundings: the caravan, Qing officials, foreigners, horses, mules, and donkeys... and, of course, the real, long braids. He finally realized the truth: he had traveled through time.

The young man's name was Xiao Letian, from the capital of the Great Empire, a graduate of Yenching University, and a mid-level manager in a multinational advertising company. He had no particular hobbies, except for frequenting military forums and engaging in heated debates with a group of angry young men. He only remembered that before he traveled through time, he had gone on a trip to the Taihang Mountains with a group of hikers. By the campfire, he had debated with another person about military history, turning red in the face.

Xiao Letian had always emphasized that modern China's path could have taken a different direction, and it wasn't necessary to follow the old pattern of dynastic change, which was too destructive. According to Qing records, China had a population of about 300 million during the Qianlong era. The Taiping Rebellion alone resulted in the deaths of over 100 million people, one-third of the population. These were real lives, the foundation of the nation.

Unfortunately, Xiao Letian's compassion earned him ridicule from the other hiker, who, with a revolutionary tone, argued that one class would never voluntarily step down, and how could you break the iron lid of thousands of years of traditional thinking without bloodshed? Even if ten out of ten people died, the great revolution would still be justified.

Neither could convince the other, and they argued for most of the night. Finally, amidst the curses of the other hikers, they stopped and went to sleep. As Xiao Letian was about to fall asleep, he was still thinking to himself.

"If I get one chance, I will definitely take a completely different path. I will make the Chinese nation rise from the mire of decline with the least amount of bloodshed. I am certain, I am convinced..."

Little did he know that some great deity in the heavens had heard his plea and actually gave him this chance. When he woke up from this dream, Xiao Letian had indeed traveled through time.

"Brothers, old and young, what year is it now? And this foreign friend, do you know what year it is according to the Western calendar? Please tell me..."

When Xiao Letian was splashed with cold water again, he asked everyone he saw, repeating the same question.

Finally, the foreigner spoke, using his strange, toneless Chinese. "Young man, it's 1864, the third year of the Tongzhi era... Are you suffering from amnesia? Did you hit your head?"

Xiao Letian's back was drenched in sweat. No wonder these people called him a Taiping remnant and a collaborator; it was 1864. The Taiping Rebellion had just ended, and the so-called Tongzhi Restoration was about to begin. The Second Opium War had ended four years ago, and foreign powers were beginning to penetrate inland. The Franco-Prussian War was about to start, and Germany would soon be unified. Even Japan was in turmoil, and in four years, it would enter the Meiji era, beginning the Meiji Restoration.

Heaven and earth, you're really playing with me. If I were just a frustrated young man, you could have ignored my complaints, but you took them seriously and threw me right into the middle of the First and Second Industrial Revolutions. You've chosen a good starting point; this is truly the last chance for the Chinese nation to rise.

Xiao Letian had no time for idle thoughts. His primary task was to survive. He couldn't let these people label him as a Taiping remnant. He would rather be a collaborator and save his life. Xiao Letian noticed that the military official, Sir Qing, was already frowning and whispering to his subordinates.

The old merchant, Mr. Fan, and his apprentices also dared not approach him, fearing entanglement. The young apprentice who had saved him was already being scolded by the others. Only the foreigner with the big nose was not afraid of him and was still interested in answering his questions.

Xiao Letian's mind was working at a speed comparable to an eight-core CPU, processing all the information and considering various possibilities. He had never been so focused, and all his procrastination, OCD, and lack of concentration were gone.

Finally, Xiao Letian suddenly grabbed the sleeve of the missionary in front of him and said in perfect American English, "In the name of God, please save your people. Only you can save my life. I am willing to exchange the most valuable information for your help. Are you British? French? Or... never mind, no matter which country you're from, I can help you. Please save me first and give me a legal identity..."

The blue-eyed, big-nosed foreigner was shocked. At first, he couldn't understand the few English words the Chinese man had said, but when he heard the entire sentence, he was stunned. The Chinese man could speak with an American East Coast accent, the most standard New York accent.

"My God, what kind of person have you sent me? This is the most bizarre event I've ever encountered in China..."