Chapter 2

### Chapter 2: Past and Present

It was now the season for harvesting rapeseed, and the farm fields were a golden expanse. Various machines roared as they hurried to gather the harvest. In the office of the farm manager, Zhao Cheng was not busy in the fields as usual. Instead, he was staring at a copy of today's military district newspaper on his desk. The front-page news was about the military district leaders inspecting the Red Star Farm, designating it as a 'military food supply base' and planning to invest in building a logistics distribution center. In the headline photo, several generals were smiling and chatting, and in a corner, a part of Zhao Cheng's face was barely visible. It was hard to notice him without a closer look.

Zhao Cheng was in his thirties. A few years ago, he was transferred here and quickly transformed this unit, which had been a headache for the leaders, into a well-organized one. He turned thousands of acres of sandy land into high-yield fields, built a livestock farm, an oil and grain processing plant, and a comprehensive market to provide employment for military families. The farm became a model unit with nearly 100 million yuan in annual profits. Given his significant contributions, it was normal for him to be featured in the newspaper, but he looked anything but happy.

"I have to leave again; I can't stay here any longer!" Zhao Cheng muttered to himself. He picked up the phone and dialed a three-digit number. The call was quickly connected. "Hello, who is this?" "Number One, this is Dark Arrow. I've been exposed!" Zhao Cheng said in a low voice.

"Oh, get ready to leave immediately. I'll send someone to pick you up right away. Be careful!" The other party made no hesitation and immediately made arrangements.

"Yes!" Their conversation lasted less than ten seconds. Even the most advanced surveillance equipment could not determine his location in such a short time. After speaking, Zhao Cheng immediately hung up the phone without even asking where he would go next.

"Packing? What's there to pack? I'm always prepared to leave!" Zhao Cheng said with a bitter smile. The inner room of the office was his dormitory. The suitcase under the bed contained all his possessions. His entire property consisted of a few military uniforms issued by the army. He had no wife, no children, and no housing. The only thing he had was a bookshelf full of books, mostly about agriculture, with a few history books.

Zhao Cheng was not afraid of death, for he had seen too much of it. He once had a happy family, with loving parents and a caring older brother. Everything changed when he entered the military academy. He studied mechanical engineering, which had nothing to do with combat units. In his third year, he went to a military unit for an internship and participated in a martial arts competition. Due to his martial arts training since childhood, he made it to the finals. His performance caught the attention of the leaders selecting special forces, and he was recruited into the special forces. After three years of rigorous training, he stood out and thus left the normal life, cutting off all contact with his family, friends, and classmates, and erasing all traces of his existence in the world.

As a special forces expert, Zhao Cheng was active in various hotspots, assassinating terrorists who threatened China's interests, eliminating traitors, and clearing out enemy spies. His successful operations made the enemies hate him to the bone, and they offered a bounty for his life. However, no one knew his appearance; they only knew his codename—Dark Arrow. During a rescue mission abroad, his true identity was inadvertently revealed, and he went into hiding on this farm. Since then, he did not use any advanced communication devices and never appeared in front of cameras, hiding himself like an ostrich.

He did not take photos, but others had his photos. Now, at least a hundred top killers from various countries were searching for him worldwide, looking for any traces he left behind because his life was worth a fortune. Yesterday's newspaper had been quickly sent to various organizations, and bloodthirsty killers, driven by the promise of money, were converging on this place from all corners of the world.

The lights were turned off, and Zhao Cheng walked to the bed, took out a gun from under the pillow, turned off the safety, loaded a bullet, and placed it by his side. He lay down on the bed with his clothes on and picked up a book on the Song Dynasty from the pillow, flipping it open. "In the first year of Jingkang (1126), in November, the Jin army besieged the capital for the second time until April of the second year of Jingkang, when the puppet regime of Zhang Bangchang was established. Emperor Huizong, Emperor Qinzong, and the officials of the Northern Song Dynasty always hoped to retain their regime at any cost through negotiations." "On January 22 of the second year of Jingkang, both sides reached an agreement: (Jin) allowed Emperor Huizong to avoid being taken north, with Prince Kang, the crown prince, and six other officials as hostages, and the court's treasures as tribute; allowed the territory south of the Yellow River and the city of Bianjing to remain, with two princesses, four imperial relatives, 2,500 palace women, 1,500 musicians, and 3,000 craftsmen as tribute; increased the annual tribute of silk and silver to 5 million bolts and 5 million taels; the designated prince and prime minister, along with the relatives of the border guards, were to be sent quickly, and they would be released after the handover; the designated 1 million gold ingots and 5 million silver ingots as military rewards must be delivered within ten days without any shortage." "If the numbers were insufficient, one princess or empress would be equivalent to 1,000 gold ingots, one imperial relative to 500 gold ingots, one clan member to 200 gold ingots, one imperial woman to 500 silver ingots, one clan woman to 200 silver ingots, and one noblewoman to 100 silver ingots, to be chosen by the command."

"Damn it, even the heavens are blind. His own wife and children were taken away, and such a person can still be an emperor!" Zhao Cheng angrily threw the book on the table and cursed.

Suddenly, the tightly closed window was smashed open, and a black shadow rushed in. The lights in the room immediately went out, and two gunshots rang out. A dead body fell to the ground. Zhao Cheng did not turn on the lights. As he walked to the window to pull the curtains closed, a comet streaked across the night sky, and his figure was exposed in the bright starlight. With a dull thud, Zhao Cheng felt a scorching bullet tear through his flesh, break his sternum, and pierce his heart.

"I'm finally dead. I wonder who will get rich. This money is enough to buy ten such farms," Zhao Cheng said with a helpless smile, a stream of blood gushing from his mouth. He struggled to raise his head and look out the window. A figure quickly leaped over the wall, and he fired a shot, causing the figure to fall and disappear into the darkness. At that moment, a helicopter hovered in front of the building, and several fully armed black-clad men rappelled down and rushed into the building. However, Zhao Cheng's eyes had already lost their light, and his body remained leaning against the windowsill, still holding the gun, with the unfinished book on the Song Dynasty lying on the table.

"Who is crying? I'm dead, so why can I hear crying?" Zhao Cheng suddenly woke up, but his body felt as heavy as a thousand pounds, and he could not move his fingers despite his efforts. "Your Majesty, please bear up. The Second Prince is in critical condition. I have done my best!" "Doctor Wang, is there really no hope?" A woman sobbed, still holding out a sliver of hope.

This time, Zhao Cheng heard clearly. The crying he had heard earlier was from this woman, but he was more confused. This voice was unfamiliar, and he had never interacted with her. Why was she crying for him? And "Your Majesty" and "Doctor," it sounded like they were making a movie.

"Your Majesty, I am powerless. The Second Prince has no pulse. There is no hope of recovery," Doctor Wang knelt on the ground and wept. "Cheng'er!" The Empress looked up at the comet in the sky and let out a long wail, fainting. The attendants and palace maids quickly supported her, and Doctor Wang immediately administered acupuncture. After a while, the Empress regained consciousness. Although she was now deeply favored by the Emperor, she had only one son and one daughter. Once she aged and lost her beauty, her son would be her future hope. The child was born prematurely and was diagnosed by the doctors as having a weak constitution, making it difficult for him to survive. Despite her careful care and treatment, he managed to grow to seven years old. However, during the Lantern Festival, he fell into the river while admiring the lanterns in the newly completed Longfu Palace and never regained consciousness, finally succumbing to his injuries today.

"Where am I? This doesn't feel right!" Zhao Cheng, left aside, listened to the chaotic crying and felt uneasy. His years of military service had instilled in him a habit of constant vigilance. He struggled to open his eyes, and the scene before him almost made this seasoned warrior faint again. His body was so small, and the people crying did not seem to be acting; their expressions were genuinely heart-wrenching. Could it be that he, like the protagonists in those great novels, had 'transmigrated'?

Zhao Cheng quickly calmed down from his shock and looked around. On the wall, a painting of red plum blossoms hung, with the branches still standing tall and the green buds still sticky. By the window was a large desk made of light red snake-patterned marble, with several inkstones and various pen holders containing writing brushes. The tall bookshelf was filled with books, both new and old, exuding an elegant atmosphere. The Empress, his mother, although tear-streaked, still maintained a dignified and beautiful appearance.

"Cheng'er!" The Empress threw herself onto Zhao Cheng, sobbing over his 'corpse.' "Cough, cough." Zhao Cheng's chest was suddenly compressed, and a thick phlegm was forced out of his mouth. "Cheng'er, Cheng'er!" Zhao Cheng's eyes rolled back as he struggled to breathe, the phlegm having been expelled but his breath not returning.

"Your Majesty, the Prince has woken up!" A palace maid saw Zhao Cheng's white eyes and quickly pulled the Empress up, shouting loudly. "Back from the dead!" Doctor Wang, who had been a doctor for most of his life, had never seen such a miracle. He forgot about the etiquette and rushed forward, grabbing Zhao Cheng's wrist. After trembling for a while, he finally felt a pulse. "Your Majesty, the Prince is really alive!" The old man, with tears and snot streaming down his face, said excitedly, feeling that his life had not been in vain, having witnessed a miracle.

At that moment, three people burst in. The leader wore a nine-ridge crown and a yellow dragon robe, with a slender figure, a face like congealed fat, and eyes like ink dots, exuding a handsome and dignified presence. However, his brows were furrowed, as if troubled by something. Accompanying him were an old and a young Taoist.

"Your Majesty!" Amid the chaos, someone finally noticed the Emperor's arrival, and everyone in the room immediately knelt down. "My beloved, the Second Prince is gone. You must bear up and not harm yourself!" The Emperor helped the Empress up and consoled her. "The Second Prince is not dead. He has come back to life!" The Empress, overjoyed, said through her tears.

"Oh?!" The two Taoists behind the Emperor exclaimed and stepped forward, looking at the bed. Their eyes met Zhao Cheng's, and both were startled. How could this child have such a strong aura of killing?

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