Chapter 3

Then, the more complete memories came to an abrupt end, followed by some fragmented impressions:

I clutched my head, feeling as if it would split open, and a violent wave of nausea and vomiting almost made me faint.

The last fragment of memory seemed to be on a riverboat, the sound of the flowing water gently lapping against the bottom of the boat with almost imperceptible swaying. Suddenly, a mutiny broke out on the boat, and it sank in the ensuing struggle.

After a labored breath, I thought, well, who am I, exactly?

This thought triggered another wave of intense memories, which flooded my mind like a slideshow of images and life experiences. My brain was now filled with a large number of fragmented memories, some from ancient life scenes and others from a futuristic sci-fi setting.

The residual sensations of this body and the memories from the era I came from were jumbled together, creating an indescribable sense of strangeness and dissonance.

Moreover, these chaotic life experiences clearly belonged to different people and individuals. How many messy souls or personalities were crammed into this body of mine? Surprisingly, I didn't end up with schizophrenia or become something like a Naprapathic Walker, Liang Gongzheng, Schrödinger's Cat, or Zhang Taiping.

But at least I could confirm one thing: first, I was in an almost completely unfamiliar ancient period, and it was a chaotic era that was particularly unfriendly to time travelers. Second, based on the incomplete and vague memories, "I" was actually a witness and participant in significant events of this chaotic era, and I seemed to have some foresight, which made me one of the tragic figures of this era.

Thinking about this, I confirmed my identity again. My name is Luo Xia, with the courtesy name Sigong. I am from a prominent family in Funing Prefecture, Xiboluo Prefecture Road, Nanyue Kingdom of the Tang Dynasty, a branch and vassal of the Xin Yi Bo feudal state—the Feng Yi Nan family's eldest son.

For some reason, I was taken in by the Luo family of Liaojun in Andong Circuit and recommended to study in Luoyang.

I was once a student and teaching assistant at the Imperial Academy, the An Fan Institute, and the Strategic Studies Department. Through a convoluted web of connections, I eventually became a private tutor for the family of the current Chancellor and Deputy Chancellor, the Ma family.

No, I clutched my head again; my brain started to throb.

Actually, I should be called Wang Yangming, a graduate and rehired staff member of a second-tier provincial university on the southeastern coast of the People's Republic of China. My father, admiring the great scholar and military leader Wang Shouren of the Ming Dynasty, gave me this name to honor the sage.

My real job was a librarian at a provincial library, known as a haven for literature and naps. Yes, a librarian.

The senior student who initially lured us into this profession once boasted that it was a career with a one-in-a-million hidden attribute, producing many legendary figures. The most recent temporary worker, after marrying his teacher's daughter, swept away all the demons and monsters, intimidating the British and American powers, and almost became a deity in the eyes of the simple Chinese people. Even years later, countless internet trolls used his story to write amusing anecdotes, expressing dissatisfaction with the current state of affairs.

Despite the decline of print media, the local university library, as one of the few designated units for large-scale restoration projects of rare and incomplete ancient texts, still received significant investment.

My job wasn't about providing a quiet place for couples to chat or driving away lazy classmates seeking cool air. That was the job of the receptionist. I was responsible for the outermost tasks, such as moving and organizing, regularly checking and maintaining the old collections by dusting and pest control, and digitizing the content on a piece-rate basis.

Thus, I had a basic understanding of traditional characters and ancient dialects, and I was diligent in my work. For the elderly who were deeply technologically illiterate and had trouble with barcodes, I was almost as good as a human search engine.

Although I had less personal time, the income was relatively good, and I eventually secured a position as a rehired staff member.

Most of the prestigious and aloof senior students from the Student Council, Youth League, and social work organizations were unwilling to deal with these musty old documents, so I earned the relevant credits.

In the end, the project leader and my doctoral advisor stormed the college leadership's office, slamming the table and saying, "Damn it, all these well-connected people with no practical skills, do you still want academic achievements?"

Thus, my career choice was a major surprise. I didn't have to join my peers in holding up their photos and resumes, running to job fairs in the sun, rain, and wind, hoping to be noticed by the next Ma Huateng or Chen Tianqiao and live a white-collar life as a secretary.

The special nature of the library also kept me away from the political and materialistic struggles within student organizations, allowing me to remain detached from the envy and conflicts of others.

Additionally, I was a part-time moderator for a few military history forums, my second hidden attribute. I often worked night shifts, using the library's computers and broadband to engage in battles with forum trolls and brainwashed fans, accumulating a wealth of experience in both winning and losing.

With the motivation to meet cute girls, I bravely risked the dangers of meeting in person and attended a forum-organized event—the Southeast Regional Meetup.

To better appreciate the girls' figures, I suggested adding a swimming activity. However, I played too hard, got a cramp, and unfortunately drowned. When I regained consciousness, I was among a pile of floating corpses, facing a bleak and miserable life.

No, there should be other people's consciousness lingering in this body, but I couldn't remember the rest. I felt that something important had been overlooked and forgotten, but my brain was too cluttered to recall it.

I had to put aside these distracting thoughts and examine this body, which I now called "myself." The reflection in the puddle showed a face that vaguely resembled my original appearance, just thinner and without the small belly from sitting in front of a computer. Even without my usual black-rimmed glasses, I could clearly see the fine sand and dirt in the water.

The physical condition of this body felt quite good. The swelling on my forehead had subsided, and the scrapes and cuts on my body were starting to scab over, showing no signs of infection. The resemblance to my previous self in the puddle was a coincidence.

The skin was smooth and taut, indicating a well-nourished life. Although I didn't have six-pack abs, my legs and arms were reasonably strong, clearly well-exercised and maintained at a good living standard.

I tried to dig deeper into this body's memories.

"Who are you, come on, give me a reaction."

After a long effort at meditation and introspection, I only felt my own agitation and some fragmented memories of swimming before the穿越.

"Attribute interface."

I concentrated and shouted again, but there was only the rustling of the bushes and the wind, nothing else.

Indeed, this wasn't a story of a perverted sword or a masochistic journey, nor was it related to a pure and innocent catgirl.

I checked my belongings. Apart from a few unfamiliar coins, some waterlogged papers, a broken leather belt, and other miscellaneous items, there were no laptops, solar-powered phones, or password-protected briefcases that could connect me to another era.

Thus, I couldn't use the trick of pretending to be a shaman to gain my first pot of gold and followers, then sweep the world; or gain fame and recognition by impressing people, leading to encounters with famous people who would challenge and praise me, eventually catching the attention of the ruling elite and entering the power center.

Nor could I use the tactic of brainwashing ancient people with polished boots and bayonets, or training a group of obsolete long spear formations to boost morale and sweep through barbarian tribes.

All these were out of reach. I sarcastically thought that this must be a flaw of soul transmigration.

Returning to reality, the other usable items on my body included a walking stick made of tied branches, a metal flint, a small folding knife, an intricately embroidered handbag, a damp incense stick, a wet headscarf, a few ointments in glass vials, and a black iron ring.

The clothing on my body resembled a long robe from a period drama but was more fitted and less loose, with inner pockets and a texture like coarse cotton, which had been washed repeatedly, revealing the original color and some old stains.

There was also an oil-paper package tied to my body, containing a stack of bound papers. One corner was damaged and starting to get wet. I quickly spread them out to dry. They were soft and wet, but the writing hadn't faded much.

Most of the content was like clippings, yes, clippings. Although called "wen chao" (literary excerpts), the familiar layouts and styles were clear and compact, representing advanced printing and material technology, not the early woodblock or clay movable type.

The latest issue's masthead, with large ink letters, nearly blinded me.

"Year 1963 of the Republican Era... Chen Jia," this title was so exciting that I almost ignored the note "Jia You Year 7" below it.

I really wanted to look up and shout at the heavens.

"Republican era, my ass! What kind of bizarre and chaotic era is this, with cold weapon wars and feudal peasant uprisings?"

Or, how strange and messed up was this era? After reading through it a few times, I realized it was just a calendar system following ancient traditions.

This so-called Republican Era was not from the slave city-states of ancient Greece or the modern republics of later times. It started from the year 841 BCE in the Zhou Dynasty, when the Duke of Zhou and the Duke of Shao jointly governed, marking the beginning of the Zhou Zhao Gonghe Era. This calendar, also known as the Western Era, was introduced and popularized by the Tang people in the Western Regions, specifically the Western Xia.

This Western Xia had nothing to do with the Western Xia established by the Tangut people in history. Instead, it was a vassal state founded and ruled by the descendants of a great statesman who revived the Tang Dynasty after the An Shi Rebellion. The state was initially called Xia or Da Xia.

Because the ruling family was surnamed Liang, it was known as Liang Xia. Due to its location in the far west, it was officially called Western Xia, and the calendar used was the Western Era.

Compared to the chaotic era names and dynasties, this calendar, tracing back to the Zhou Dynasty, was easily accepted and widely used in daily life for calculations and comparisons.

Of course, if my historical knowledge hadn't been forgotten.

If we exclude the years before the Common Era, it should be around 1116 to 1118 AD in my timeline, the late Northern Song Dynasty, when the Jurchens began to conquer the five capitals of the Liao Dynasty.

Although the empire was already showing signs of decline and unrest, the literati in the capital were still immersed in the dream of a prosperous empire, competing for power and glory, oblivious to the impending collapse.

History seemed to have a certain consistency and commonality.

Through the fragmented memories of this body and the limited information from the stack of "wen chao" (literary excerpts), I finally confirmed a fact I had been unwilling to accept: this was an era changed by time travelers. The most frequently mentioned figure was the legendary Liang Gong and his various deeds and life events.

The Tang Dynasty, which should have ended after the An Shi Rebellion, was revived by a once-in-a-millennium genius who not only quelled the prolonged rebellion and its aftermath but also defeated powerful enemies like Nanzhao and Tubo, and suppressed the rise of future nomadic powers like the Shiwei and Khitans.

After achieving unparalleled success, he launched a transcontinental expedition, sending the Abbasid Caliphate and the Islamic expansion into the dustbin of history, establishing numerous overseas Tang-dominated vassal states, city-states, and territories.

He also promoted maritime trade and overseas colonization, discovering several new continents during his lifetime. His achievements were so brilliant that even the Tang Emperor, known for his cultural and military prowess, seemed dim in comparison, laying the groundwork for future power struggles.

After the chaos of the Yi Wei Rebellion, the Tang royal family began to deliberately limit and suppress his works and influence, using the guise of reflection to gradually negate his achievements and portray him as a usurper or a scheming villain.

He became a figure whose name could not be directly mentioned, only referred to as Liang Gong or Liang Mou.

However, the legends and anecdotes about him had already spread widely and could not be suppressed, as his life touched on so many aspects and fields that they were almost impossible to ban.

But like the cycle of a dynasty, the Tang Empire eventually faced its decline. Despite the efforts of many capable individuals, they could only maintain or patch up the aging and rigid empire. The chaotic and tragic events of the era were repeatedly played out.

For me, this was not good news. It seemed that telegraph, newspapers, and firearms had already appeared, making it difficult for late-arriving time travelers like me to survive. I couldn't help but curse the time traveler surnamed Liang.

Moreover, others who traveled through time had plenty of benefits and advantages. Even those who were bullied, divorced, and humiliated as weak illegitimate sons had loyal servants and maids to comfort them. I, however, was floating in a river with a pile of corpses. Could I curse the heavens?