A Dream of the Warring States: I Am Jier, King of Great Qin

I jerked my eyes open. Above me was a dim wooden ceiling, and the air was thick with the scent of herbs mixed with sandalwood. “He’s awake… The young master is awake!” a slightly hoarse woman’s voice exclaimed beside me. I turned my head and saw a middle-aged woman in coarse hemp clothing kneeling beside me, holding a clay bowl. Her eyes were bright with joy, but there was also a trace of tension she could barely hide. Wasn’t I in the storeroom of the Terracotta Warriors Museum, cataloguing a newly acquired batch of bamboo slips? I remembered slipping, hitting the back of my head on something, and then everything going black…