Chen Ke felt that he had definitely offended the God of Overtime in his previous life.
As a glorious clerk in the Municipal Development and Reform Bureau, he fell down on the keyboard after working overtime for thirty-six consecutive hours. His last words were only one word: "Lie".
When I opened my eyes again, it was the sixteenth year of Hongzhi in the Ming Dynasty.
Good news: You are eight years younger and your life is in vain.
Bad news: The family is poor, the rice jar is cleaner than the face, and the only survival skill is to be able to write calligraphy. Then he discovered that he can't even write calligraphy.
Fortunately, the brain is still there. Five hundred years of knowledge reserves, how can you just take out some of them and still be afraid of starving to death? He wrote "Journey to the West" silently and sold it to a bookstore. He opened a bookstore in partnership with the daughter of the richest man in Yingtian Mansion. He shocked the examiners of the imperial examination with a policy paper and applauded him. He also became fair-weather friends with a dandy who claimed to be "from the capital".
Only later did he learn that the unlucky friend whom he dragged along the Qinhuai River, ate at roadside stalls, and listened to his complaints about the government was named Zhu Houzhao.
The current prince.
The future Zhengde Emperor.
Later, the princess insisted on marrying him, the Qinhuai oiran was willing to be a concubine, the Mongolian princess brought troops to marry him, and there was also a descendant of a miracle doctor who stayed in the house. There was a full-scale martial arts show in the backyard every day. Emperor Zhengde climbed over the wall every now and then to come to him for a drink. The little Mongolian prince at the border was busy sharpening his sword, and Prince Ning of Jiangxi was ready to make a move.
And Chen Ke just wants to say one thing: Are people in this era so idle?
