Li Wenhao, a history graduate who sent out 137 résumés without getting a single response, eventually put on a yellow vest and became a food-delivery rider. Just before the elevator plunged, he was watching a video on Bilibili and cursing, “Mao Wenlong was completely useless.” The next second, he became Mao Wenlong himself.
On the thirtieth day of the fifth month in the second year of Chongzhen, less than five days remained before Yuan Chonghuan would forge an imperial edict and execute Mao Wenlong on Shuangdao Island. A foul-mouthed modern-day hothead had been thrust into a trap with no way out. After collapsing by the sea and cursing the heavens, he suddenly began to laugh. He had spent four years studying the late Ming, memorized the Dongjiang Memorials, remembered the wording of every surrender letter Huang Taiji had sent, and even knew what frightened King Injo of Joseon most.
“History degrees are useless?”
In four and a half days, he had to forge evidence, ambush and seriously wound Commander Yuan, reform the corrupt Dongjiang army, and drag Joseon into the war. Then he would make the Ming dynasty, three hundred years ago, live again. This is both a wish-fulfillment story about a delivery rider defying fate and a tale of how knowledge can save people in desperate circumstances. History never lets down those willing to understand it.
