I Became a General in the Northern Song Dynasty

Pei Jingchen jolted awake in the piercing cold.

The humid air of a twenty-first-century tropical rainforest seemed to cling to his skin, yet before him hung a brocade canopy embroidered with intertwined lotus vines, and the cool scent of sandalwood drifted past his nose. His keen instincts as a special forces soldier told him this was not the battlefield where he had died.

Unfamiliar memories surged through him like a flood.

Northern Song. The third year of Zhidao. Third young master of the Pei family. Frail and sickly. The family’s discarded son. His fiancée, the Su family’s daughter…

“Has the third young master woken?” A maid’s deliberately hushed voice came from beyond the canopy. “The eldest young master sent word: if you claim to be ill and skip the hunt again today, your monthly allowance will be docked in full for the year.”

Pei Jingchen pushed himself upright. This body was indeed weak, but the core strength of a special forces soldier remained. He looked at his blurred reflection in the bronze mirror. It resembled him by seven parts, but was pale and gaunt, with fearful eyes.

“Tell my elder brother,” he said, his voice hoarse but steadier than ever, “I’m going.”