After waking up, Xie Zhiwan, the Great Zhou dynasty’s foremost female historian, found herself in the body of a university history student in the twenty-first century who was about to fail her classes.
The good news: she had left behind the war-torn final years of a dynasty and arrived in a peaceful, stable new world.
The bad news: the history books here... were ridiculously wrong?! (╯‵□′)╯︵┻━┻
When she saw the bizarre description of the iron-fisted emperor she had personally served, calling him “romantic and amorous,” then spotted a note she had transcribed by hand in the museum, misidentified as a “forgery,” her professional instincts kicked in.
How could she stand for this? She absolutely couldn’t!
To set the record straight (and earn some money for living expenses), Xie Zhiwan decided to return to her old profession.
By day, she was a good-for-nothing student in the eyes of her history professor.
By night, she was the internet’s most mysterious history blogger, “Brush in Hand, Writing the Truth.”
She used her exquisite flower-headpin script to restore lost inscriptions, prompting calligraphy masters to stay up all night following her updates.
She pieced together authentic imperial recipes from clues hidden in ancient paintings, making the food bloggers next door drool with envy.
She cited historical sources and went head-to-head with “history inventors,” debunking one and blocking another. Her fans cried, “You’re so fierce, and I love it!”
Then a costume drama billed as an “S+ tier production” began filming, and the crew hired her as a historical consultant. Looking at the leading man’s face, which bore a striking resemblance to the “romantic and amorous” emperor, Xie Zhiwan fell into deep thought.
A certain movie star: “Professor Xie, how’s the emotion in this scene coming along?”
Xie Zhiwan, expressionless: “Your Majesty, if you’d cried like that back then, the Empress Dowager would have twisted your head off.”
Movie star: “...?”
