Lin Chen suddenly opened his eyes in the severe pain of suffocation. The smell of rust and the bitter herbal smell penetrated into the nasal cavity, like countless fine needles pricking the mucous membrane, making his chest tighten.
"Wake up! Third Young Master is really awake!"
The clear female voice exploded with tears of joy, Lin Chen turned his neck stiffly, and the lotus pattern on the top of the carved pear wood bed came into view. Three girls in coarse cloth skirts were surrounding the bed - A Tao's eyes were red and swollen, and there were still wet tears on the tip of her nose; Qing He, who was dressed in green clothes and had her hair tied up, frowned and scanned the surroundings with a vigilant expression, as if on guard against something; Qiu Yan in the corner, her face was as pale as paper, her hands tightly clenched the corners of her clothes, her knuckles turned white, but when she met his eyes, she quickly lowered her head, with a faint blush on her ears.
The memory is like broken glass, thrust into my mind with sharp pain: Lin Chen, a social worker in the 21st century, died suddenly in front of a fluorescent computer after working overtime for three consecutive days and nights. When he opened his eyes again, he actually traveled to the Dafeng Dynasty where the ratio of men to women was 1:50, and became Lin Chen, the most disliked concubine in the Zhongyong Mansion.
