[Damn, that's worse than working overtime for seventy-two hours straight... This feeling is like being dragged to forcefully turn on the phone after a hangover...]
He resisted the dizziness and nausea and began to sort out the memory fragments that did not belong to him.
Here is Qin.
Isn't it what he read in the history books, that huge empire that unified the six countries, and the books and texts and the same track seemed to be earlier? The original owner has no clear idea of which King of Qin is on the throne. For a low-level official like him, who is on the throne is far less important than whether he can have enough to eat today.
The person whose soul he passed through was also called Qin Feng? In other words, the pronunciation is similar. He was the lowest "historian" in a county government office in Qin State, responsible for miscellaneous tasks such as copying documents and organizing files. His status is humble, his salary is meager, and he can only make ends meet.
And that "three-day deadline"... The memory fragments are particularly blurry here. There is only a strong sense of anxiety and fear as the deadline approaches. What the specific task is is like being covered with a thick veil, and I can't remember it.
"So... Did I... Travel through time? Or was it soul travel?" Qin Feng, or rather, the modern soul that possesses Qin Feng's memory and consciousness, muttered to himself. He raised his hands and saw a pair of hands that were completely different from his original pampered hands with neatly manicured nails - the fingers were rough, black dirt was embedded between the nails, and the palms still had thin calluses left by holding a knife and carving for a long time.
