The Dawn

For as long as he could remember, Professor Lin had always found solace in the stories of the past rather than the chaos of the present. Spending countless hours buried in ancient texts had given him a unique outlook on life. He didn't just see history as a list of dates and names, but as a grand narrative of countless lives intertwined through time. His apartment was overflowing with books and scrolls, the air thick with the smell of old paper and dust, a tangible reminder of his solitary lifestyle. In a fast-paced world, he was like a fish out of water, a scholarly soul lost in the hustle and bustle of modern life.That sultry summer night, as he struggled with a certain intractable passage in one of the Han Dynasty chronicles, something strange occurred. Air clung heavy in his tiny study; the flickering desk lamp seemed to dim, a low thrumming humming through the floorboards. It was as if the room itself was holding its breath. Then a sharp, stabbing pain shot through his head, a blinding flash of white light exploded behind his eyelids, and he knew no more.He woke to a disoriented feeling: heavy, unresponsive. Gone was the comforting musty smell of his apartment, replaced by the choking sweetness of incense and a metallic tang that settled his stomach. He was lying on a bed draped in heavy silk, the air thick with the hushed whispers of voices speaking in a language that, while familiar to his studies, felt strangely alien on his own tongue. Smooth-skinned, pale, hands were where his calloused hands were. Aged. They were a young person's hands.The threat of panic rose into his throat as he began to appreciate this was not his narrow apartment. A world in space removed from his spoke for him - that room, ornamented in lacquered-ebony furnishings with all-intricate Jade carvings, among many things. Worn masks of worry, also daubs of an awed kind of fear in every regard, looked at him. They wore rich garments befitting old China.An old man, his face a roadmap of wrinkles and his eyes brimming with tears, knelt by the side of the bed. “Your Highness… you’re awake,” he said, his voice trembling with relief. “The Heavens be praised.”The words hit Professor Lin like a physical blow. Your Highness? He tried to speak, to ask what was happening, but only a weak groan escaped his lips. The old man, mistaking his confusion for lingering weakness, gently patted his hand.“Rest, Your Highness. You’ve been unconscious for three days. The physicians… they feared the worst,” he trailed off, his voice choked with emotion.As the fog in his mind began to clear, snatches of information filtered into his ears through hushed conversations of the attendants around him. He was in the late Eastern Han, the time of great turbulence and chaos. He was Liu Qi, the Crown Prince of Wei, the son of the powerful Cao Cao.Professor Lin, the historian, had now become Liu Qi, an important character in the epic drama of the Three Kingdoms. He was no longer reading about history but was living it. He knew the stories, the famous battles, the cunning strategies, the tragic fates that awaited the heroes and villains of that era. He knew the eventual downfall of Wei and what that portended for his new life.But this time, it might just be different. Trapped in the body of the crown prince was the mind of a man who had dedicated his life to studying the past-a man who now had the chance to change it. His survival, and perhaps that of an empire, depended on it. The winds of fate had changed, and Liu Qi, formerly Professor Lin, was about to learn whether he could navigate the treacherous currents of the Three Kingdoms. This was more than reincarnation-this was trial by fire: a test of his knowledge, his courage, and even his humanity. The period of the Three Kingdoms was about to witness something unexpected.