The Great Song Dynasty's Soul-Forging in Progress

May 26, 2025, sunny, high of 37 degrees Celsius.

Laomentan, the most dangerous place in Shahe, Longdu City, Central China.

Wang Zhonghua, a junior staff member of the county's local history office and an amateur writer, led two beautiful female writers, Tian Shang Xing Xing and An Zhi Ting Lan, to Laomentan for a field trip in his newly purchased "Peace Elf" car: visiting Shuanglong Temple, touring Sanyi Village, interviewing the legendary 90-year-old Xu Shuchen, uncovering the legend of Lü Sanjun's extravagant spending, exploring the Love Tree at Wangjiagang, and tasting hot tofu at Huluwan...

It was so hot that Wang Zhonghua and his companions decided to go swimming near the Laomentan permeable dam.

The fiery and fit stars in the sky and the classically elegant orchids on the riverbank donned swimsuits, their beautiful and alluring figures attracting the envious gazes of countless tourists and eliciting exclamations of amazement from handsome men and beautiful women.

Encouraged by the two beautiful women, Wang Zhonghua, who is as handsome as Louis Koo, decided to show off his high diving skills.

He strode up the ten-meter-high permeable dam, first giving the stars in the sky a confident smile. After taking a deep breath, he leaped into the bottomless Laomentan Pool like a fish.

The water rippled and spread out in circles. One minute, ten minutes, thirty minutes... Wang Zhonghua's figure was no longer seen at Laomentan in Dashahe.

Anzhi and Tinglan burst into tears in panic.

Tourists exclaimed in shock, "Someone jumped into the river!!!"

The stars in the sky quickly called for help.

……

Another time and space.

Emperor Zhao Zhen of the Song Dynasty was perhaps the emperor who used the most reign titles in the Song Dynasty: Tiansheng, Mingdao, Jingyou, Baoyuan, Kangding, Qingli, Huangyou, Zhihe, and Jiayou.

It was the fifth year of the Huangyou reign, during the wheat harvest season.

The hour of Chen (7-9 AM) had just passed, and the sun was high overhead. The area around Chenzhou, a major town near the capital, felt like it was inside a giant steamer, with even the wind sticky and damp. The bluestone slabs at Longsheng Ferry on the Dayin River (later known as the Dasha River) in Yangcheng County were so hot they could bake pancakes. Dogs lay panting in the shade, refusing to move. Boatmen, porters, and pancake vendors all huddled in tiny shadows, fanning themselves with broken branches.

"You bastards, you bunch of scoundrels, you're all doing nothing right!"

Suddenly, a heart-wrenching cry from a woman shattered the suffocating silence.

"Brother—! Let go of my brother!"

On the riverbank, the mooring ropes of a covered boat were still in place, and a faded oil-paper umbrella hung from the mast to provide shade.

The wind blows, the umbrella flutters!

A girl's rough brown cloth dress flashed by—the fabric was coarse and rough, yet it had been starched until it was white, and the cuffs and hem of the skirt were edged with indigo thread, like distant mountains washed by night rain; the ochre hemp belt around her waist was half-loose from running so fast, and the end of the belt fluttered like a willow swaying in the wind.

The young girl was Qin Tiehua, the daughter of Qin the blacksmith from Wangjiagang. She was only sixteen years old, her hair tied back with a simple hairpin, a few strands of black hair framing her delicate face. Her eyebrows were arched and arched, her eyes so dark they reflected the sails on the river. She wore barefoot straw sandals, the edges worn raw, her ankles stained with the wet mud of the ferry crossing, yet this couldn't conceal Qin Tiehua's nimble figure. She was like a pair of blacksmith's scissors, slicing through the crowd. Her slender shoulders rose and fell beneath the brown cloth, like a fledgling swallow, soaked by a downpour, stubbornly rushing towards its brother.

In an instant, the hustle and bustle, the sound of oars, and the shouts of vendors all became the background of Qin Tiehua's painting. That silhouette, once seen, is a thousand years old, frozen in time as the most stubborn stroke in the landscape painting of the Song Dynasty.

Several thugs surrounded a strong young man, punching and kicking him. The young man was Qin Tiehua's older brother, Qin Tiedan. Although he was a blacksmith and had some strength and had practiced martial arts, he was no match for the many hands he had. He was quickly knocked to the ground by the hooligans and could only curl up to protect his vitals, saying, "Tiehua, run! I'm alright."

"Hmph! Damn it, debts must be repaid, it's only right and proper! Qin Tiedan, you dare to ask me for a high price with your few broken sickles and shovels?"

A burly man with his chest exposed, a tuft of black hair on his chest, and a scar on his face grinned maliciously. He was Qiu Qiu, the local bully of Longsheng Ferry, known as "Tiger Qiu".

This man was cruel by nature and had intricate connections with the Chenzhou government and even the Black Wind Stronghold bandits of Qinxiang Lake, which stretched for five hundred miles in the southwest.

Qiu Laohu placed one foot on Qin Tiedan's back, gave a wink to a few hooligans, and the hooligans grinned as they walked toward Qin Tiehua.

Qin Tiehua cursed loudly and threw a punch at a burly man.

Poor Qin Tiehua, although he came from a blacksmithing background and had some rudimentary martial arts skills, was no match for the group of hooligans and was soon taken to Qiu Laohu's side.

Qin Tiedan roared repeatedly, "Qiu Laohu, I curse your ancestors for eight generations..." He struggled desperately, but Qiu Laohu stomped on him, and blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.

Qiu Laohu chuckled coldly, "He's a damn fool! Just because you know a few punches, he dares to refuse to pay protection money and acts wildly on my turf. If I don't beat the crap out of you today, I'm not Qiu!"

Spit almost landed on Qin Tiedan and Qin Tiehua's faces; their faces were covered in greasy sweat and dust, making them nauseating, and their words were even more repulsive:

"Either you pay me two taels of silver today as an apology, or you send your sister back with me to serve me for a few days, and this debt will be wiped clean!"

"Bullshit!" Qin Tiedan roared, struggling on the ground. "We don't owe you any money! You local bully tried to steal my sickle!"

"Still dare to talk back!" Qiu Laohu's eyes flashed with anger, and he raised his foot to kick again.

"stop!"

A tall but somewhat thin figure suddenly rushed out from the crowd and stood in front of Qin Tiedan and Qin Tiehua. The newcomer was a boy, who looked to be only sixteen or seventeen years old. He was thin, with a still-childish face, and wore a set of faded coarse cloth clothes. He was none other than Wang Zhonghua, Qin Tiedan's childhood friend.

Wang Zhonghua is taciturn and introverted. He is a neighbor of Qin Tiedan's family and grew up with Qin Tiedan like brothers. He is also Qin Tiehua's closest protector and can't stand anyone bullying Qin Tiehua.

Seeing the Qin siblings in distress, he didn't know where the courage came from. His face flushed red, and although his voice trembled, it was unusually clear: "In broad daylight, how...how can you beat people without cause and forcibly abduct a young woman!"

Qiu Laohu was taken aback, then burst into laughter as if he'd heard the funniest joke in the world, along with his men: "Who do we have here? It's that quiet brat from Wangjiagang, the kind you can't even fart with three blows! What, trying to be a hero and save the damsel in distress? You think you can pull this off?"

Wang Zhonghua clenched his fists, his body trembling slightly with tension, but he stubbornly stood in front of Qin Tiedan, reaching out to pull him away: "Is there no law anymore?!"

"The law? Here at Longsheng Ferry, on Longsheng Street, my fists are the law!" Qiu Laohu lost his patience, waving his hand, "Take care of this reckless brat and throw him into the river to feed the fish!"

The thugs swarmed forward. Wang Zhonghua, though not tough, was no match for them. Someone struck him hard on the back of the head with a wooden stick, and his vision went black as he lost consciousness.

"Brother Zhonghua—" Qin Tiehua let out a mournful cry before his vision went black and he fainted.

"Brother!" Qin Tiedan's eyes were bloodshot, but he was pinned to the ground by the hooligans and couldn't move.

Qiu Laohu spat and gestured to his men, "Damn it! This piece of trash wants to save people! Brothers, throw this nuisance into the Old Gate Pool to feed the turtles, so he won't bring bad luck!"

Two ruffians lifted the limp Wang Zhonghua and carried him to the edge of the deep, dark pool, where they threw him in with all their might. With a splash, water sprayed everywhere, and the thin figure bobbed up and down in the murky water for a few moments before being quickly swept away into the depths and disappeared.

……

Wang Zhonghua, in the deep pool, felt himself struggling in an endless descent.

The icy river water swept over him, the suffocating feeling like a giant hand gripping his throat. Countless images and fragments of information collided and merged wildly in his mind—he was Wang Zhonghua, a junior clerk in the county's local history office, orphaned at a young age, in his thirties, with no hope of promotion and a bleak future in marriage. His only solace was wandering in the world of words he had constructed after get off work. He loved reading: martial arts novels, time-travel stories, ancient and modern times, the Tengwang Pavilion and Yueyang Tower, Lin Daiyu and the Qiao sisters, Linghu Chong and Lin Wanrong, Xu Sanguan and Wu Xingzhe, the rejected manuscript of "The Great Song Dynasty," failed blind dates, online loan news…

He remembered that he and two beautiful women were sketching in the mysterious Laomentan; he remembered that there was a dragon palace in the legend of Laomentan; he remembered that Laomentan was a bottomless pit that could swallow up countless stone mountains; he remembered that the weather was scorching hot, and he jumped from the permeable dam into the Dasha River to swim... and then there was endless darkness and whirlpools.

All I'm doing is jumping into the water and taking a bath.

He's over thirty and has never been in a relationship, so he just wants to show off in front of beautiful women, right?

It feels like a thousand years have passed in the blink of an eye!

What's wrong with me?

Who am I? Where am I?

A strong will to survive made him instinctively paddle. Just then, a force pulled him up and dragged him toward the surface of the water.

"Splash—"

He suddenly popped his head up, coughing violently, his lungs burning with pain. The blinding sunlight made it almost impossible for him to open his eyes; he could only vaguely sense that he was being laboriously dragged to the shore by a plump middle-aged man dressed in a silk shirt. Several servants were helping nearby.

"He's awake! Master, the young man is awake!" someone shouted.

Wang Zhonghua was dragged ashore and collapsed on the scorching riverbank, gasping for breath. He looked around blankly—the ancient ferry crossing, the wooden sailboats, the crowd dressed in ancient costumes, and the dark-skinned, spirited young girl who had rushed towards him, tears streaming down her face…

"Brother Zhonghua! You're alright! That's great! You scared me to death!" Qin Tiehua grabbed his arm, tears streaming down his face, his wailing terrifying.

Wang Zhonghua looked at her, and his mind went blank. Countless memories belonging to "another Wang Zhonghua" flooded into his consciousness like a burst dam:

Wang Jiagang, father Wang Zhuacai and mother Yao, younger sister Wang Xiangjun, neighbors Qin Tiedan and Qin Tiehua, the taciturn self, and the scene where I was knocked unconscious and thrown into the river while trying to save Qin Tiehua and his sister...

Two souls, memories of two eras, merged completely at this moment.

Wang Zhonghua is dead! He is no longer that mediocre "writer" clerk.