Death, I'm dying.
He wasn't killed by anyone, he was trapped to death.
In the Daqian Dynasty, the Imperial Academy, before the morning bell rang, I was already paralyzed under the pillars of the "Ming Lun Hall".
The morning lessons on the Four Books and Five Classics were comparable to Sanskrit chants, and Master Zhao's saliva in the hall was denser than the autumn rain outside the window.
My name is Chen Jin, a salty fish with great ambitions.
The "Analects of Confucius" in my hand has yellowed edges and looks like it has been torn by me.
Only I know that there is a storybook that I just bought from the Western Market - "Fox Fairy's Love Story" sandwiched between the pages.
I was counting down the days silently in my mind: I would survive another three months, pass the year-end exam, get a third-class rating, and be sent to some remote county to be a county magistrate.
From now on, I drink tea, read papers, and bask in the sun, and start my perfect retirement life in advance.
"Brother Chen, you are working so hard before dawn. You are really a role model for us."
A sinister voice came from the side.
I didn't even bother to raise my eyelids, it was Li Yuanlang.
The son of a wealthy family in the capital, relying on the money donated by his family, always has a high regard in the Imperial College. The one who looks down the most is me, a "yin prison student" who managed to get in by relying on the meager achievements of my ancestors.
