Chapter 1

In the evening, the sun set, and the sky, dyed red by the sunset, had already darkened. The distant, undulating mountains turned a dark black, and the forest became even quieter. Some unknown night insects began to chirp excitedly.

On a narrow mountain path, a figure walked from afar. His steps were strong and agile, and with a light leap, he jumped over a tree trunk that blocked the path, one that would require three people to encircle.

This was a young man nearly two meters tall, looking to be in his early twenties. He was bare-chested, revealing solid, bronze-colored muscles. He wore camouflage military pants and a pair of military leather boots. A Type 92 pistol was tucked into his waistband, and a military dagger was inserted into his boot.

The young man was bare-chested because his shirt had been turned into a bundle. The sleeves were tied together in front, and the bundle was slung over his shoulder, containing what seemed to be a considerable amount of food.

The man had a short haircut and a square face with distinct features. His nose was high and straight, and under his thick, black eyebrows, his eyes were deep and sharp, like arrows aiming at an invisible target in the distant forest, yet they could instantly shift to a nearby rock.

Though his gaze was firm and sharp, it also revealed a hint of confusion. He would stop from time to time to look around, as if trying to figure out where he was.

His name was Zhang Xuan. He was originally a special forces soldier who had entered the Army Academy two years ago to study military strategy. Five days ago, Zhang Xuan and thirty other students participated in a wilderness survival training. While searching for water, he accidentally entered a deep, bottomless cave.

When he emerged from the other side of the cave, he turned back to find that the entrance had disappeared, along with his backpack, into the vast mountains.

Zhang Xuan had walked for five days through the continuous Qinling Mountains without encountering a single person. He felt something was wrong, but he couldn't pinpoint what exactly was amiss.

As he turned a corner, a thatched hut suddenly appeared about a hundred meters ahead. Finally, there were signs of human presence. He let out a cheer and ran towards the hut with long strides.

The hut was a simple shelter made of mud and branches, with spider webs covering the gaps. Half of the mud wall had collapsed, and the dim starlight shone through the holes. On the ground was a broken animal trap, and a rusty machete was stuck in a moldy wooden stump.

It seemed the owner of the hut was a hunter who had not appeared for a long time.

Just as Zhang Xuan was about to pick up the machete, he suddenly turned and swiftly drew his pistol, his sharp eyes fixed on a mud wall.

"Who's there? Come out!" he shouted in a low voice.

"Don't... don't hurt us."

Zhang Xuan heard a trembling voice. Two figures slowly rose from behind the mud wall: an old man with white hair and a boy with two braids.

Zhang Xuan stared at them without blinking, shocked. The old man and the boy were dressed in ancient attire.

"Come out, I won't hurt you!" he said, confirming there was no one else around. He put the pistol back in his waistband and drew the dagger from his boot.

The two seemed terrified. The boy clung tightly to the old man's arm, and they cautiously stepped out from behind the wall.

"We don't... have any food or money, only... this."

The old man placed a small bundle and a string of copper coins on the ground and stepped back with the child.

Zhang Xuan looked at the copper coins, which he had only seen in movies, and felt a sharp pain in his eyes, as if a gust of sand had blown into his face. His mind became chaotic. "What year is it now?"

"What?" The old man didn't understand.

"I'm asking what year it is? Who is the emperor? Do you understand?" Zhang Xuan shouted in despair.

The old man became even more frightened. He knelt down and stammered, "Your Majesty, we didn't... join Yang Xuangan's rebellion. We are just civilians trying to escape."

'Yang Xuangan's rebellion!'

Zhang Xuan leaned against the wall, feeling the extreme fatigue from five days of trekking. He finally knew who the current emperor was. He had somehow traveled back to the end of the Sui Dynasty.

...

"Young man, in these chaotic times, being able to survive is the greatest fortune. Forgetting your hometown is not a big deal."

The old man felt relieved, knowing that the young man was not a ruthless bandit. He lovingly stroked his grandson, who was eating a yam, but his smile was bitter.

"Look at us. We can't return to our hometown either. How is that different from you?"

Zhang Xuan had calmed down from his initial shock and confusion. He silently accepted the reality of being in the late Sui Dynasty. He sighed, no longer dwelling on the troubling thoughts, and asked the old man, "Where are we now?"

"We are in Lushi County of Hongnong Commandery. If you go east for a hundred miles, you'll reach Henan Commandery, which is not far from the capital."

'Hongnong Commandery!' Zhang Xuan quickly drew a map in his mind. That was right; he had lost his way in the Sanmenxia area.

Zhang Xuan stood up and slowly walked out of the hut. He took a deep breath of the cold, fresh air and looked up at the starry sky. The night was so pure, like a black velvet expanse dotted with countless sparkling gems.

He didn't know which constellation held the path home or which star foretold his future. It seemed as if everything was predestined. At that moment, he felt a deep sense of helplessness and confusion.

It was very late, and Zhang Xuan sat against a big tree, unable to sleep. He gazed at the stars, his thoughts wandering far and wide.

Yang Xuangan's rebellion, the ninth year of the Daye era, the second campaign against Goguryeo. Various pieces of information gradually came together.

A month ago, he had participated in a debate at the academy about the true reasons for Emperor Yang Guang's three campaigns against Goguryeo.

Goguryeo had a population of no more than a million and an area equivalent to one of the Sui Dynasty's prefectures. The Sui Dynasty, with over fifty million people, was a powerful and prosperous nation. The Sui army, known for its glorious victories in both the north and south, was one of the most elite forces in history.

To deal with such a small vassal state, Emperor Yang Guang mobilized the entire nation, sending a million troops and leading the campaign himself. When the Sui army defeated the powerful Tujue, it was led by Yang Su with only ten thousand soldiers. Even when Emperor Wen of Sui launched the unification war, it was not on such a grand scale.

Was Emperor Yang Guang really so foolish that, with the country in turmoil, he still launched three campaigns against Goguryeo, losing a million soldiers?

A man who could unify the north and south, win in the brutal struggle for imperial power, defeat the Tujue, expand the borders, and build the Grand Canal, could not possibly make such a low-level mistake. There must be a deeper reason for Emperor Yang Guang's three campaigns against Goguryeo.

The Sui Dynasty, though brief, marked the beginning of the medieval era, the start of a unified China, the origin of the imperial examination system and the Three Departments and Six Ministries system, and the construction of the Grand Canal, the Great Wall, Chang'an, Luoyang, and the Zhaozhou Bridge. Its importance was no less than that of the equally brief Qin Dynasty.

He had arrived in this era, which was severely misunderstood and maligned by later generations. What could he, Zhang Xuan, do in this age of heroes?

Zhang Xuan took out his pistol, ejected the magazine, and looked inside. His luck was bad; there were only three bullets in the magazine. He couldn't help but laugh bitterly. He had hoped to use the gun to show his prowess in the Sui Dynasty, but it seemed that heaven did not want him to be too strong.

"Uncle, what's this?"

Zhang Xuan turned around and saw the boy standing behind him, curiously examining the gun in his hand.

"This is called a gun!"

"Gun? My father also has a gun, but it's much longer than this one."

Zhang Xuan smiled. "This is a different kind of gun, different from your father's."

"Aobao, where is your father?" Zhang Xuan asked.

The boy lowered his head sadly. "Father couldn't pay the taxes, so he sent Mother back to her parents' home and sold me to a wealthy family. He said he was going to be an emperor and left with his gun. Grandfather sold the land to buy me back."

"Aobao!" the old man called from the hut's entrance.

"Uncle, I'm going back." The boy ran towards the hut.

"Aobao, never mention your father's affairs again. Don't tell anyone, remember?" The old man glanced at Zhang Xuan and whispered to his grandson.

"Aobao remembers!"

Zhang Xuan looked up at the night sky and laughed. If he were ever pushed to the brink, would he also, like Aobao's father, take up a gun and try to become an emperor?

...

Zhang Xuan was woken by someone shaking him. He found that it was already morning. He quickly stood up and saw the old man and the boy standing beside him. The old man handed him a blue robe and said, a bit embarrassed, "Can you exchange some food with us, sir?"

"Are you... leaving?"

The old man nodded. "I came to find a cousin who is a hunter in this area. This hut is where he stays at night, but he seems to be gone. I plan to take my grandson down the mountain and follow the official road to Xiangyang. I lived there for a few years when I was young. Though it's not my hometown, at least we can have a meal."

Zhang Xuan put on the robe, which was a bit short but very dry and warm. He handed the bundle to the old man and smiled. "Take it all! I wish you a safe journey to Xiangyang."

The old man and the boy thanked him profusely and left. Zhang Xuan stretched and yawned. A good night's sleep had refreshed him, and the initial despair and hopelessness of being in the late Sui Dynasty had vanished. The determination to not give up had returned to his heart.

He picked up the machete, let out a long cry, and walked down the mountain with large strides. "I have arrived in the late Sui Dynasty!"

...

In the seventh month of the ninth year of the Daye era, Yang Xuangan led over a hundred thousand troops to attack Luoyang but faced fierce resistance from the city's defenders. After months of bloody battles, he still couldn't capture Luoyang.

At this time, Emperor Yang Guang, who had been on a campaign against Goguryeo, quickly withdrew his army to the Central Plains. Yuwen Shu, Qu Tongsu, and Lai Huer led three armies to attack Luoyang. Yang Xuangan was forced to abandon Luoyang and advance towards Guanzhong. He was eventually caught by the main Sui army in Hongnong Commandery, and intense battles broke out in Shangpandou and Dongduyuan.

Yang Xuangan suffered consecutive defeats and was finally completely routed. His army was decimated, with bodies strewn across the battlefield and blood flowing like rivers. Ten thousand soldiers scattered and fled, and countless were captured.

The crisis of war loomed over Hongnong Commandery, and at this time, Zhang Xuan had already left the Qinling Mountains and was heading towards Hongnong County.

In the afternoon, about thirty miles south of Hongnong County, in a forest, Zhang Xuan sat on a large rock, intently using the machete to whittle a branch. The branch was about one and a half meters long, as thick as a cup, and made of hard, straight jujube wood. He shaped the front end into a sharp point, creating a makeshift spear.

He already had three similar spears beside him. 'Crack!' The rusty machete finally broke in half. Zhang Xuan cursed softly and threw the broken half into the grass.

He scratched his head and stared blankly at the distant sky. He had been walking in the wilderness for two days without encountering a single person, which made him feel a deep sense of frustration.

At that moment, Zhang Xuan suddenly heard something. He stood up, perked up his ears, and faintly heard someone shouting, "Help!"