Qin Wuliang, a college graduate who'd just been given a harsh introduction to the working world, wakes up as the county magistrate of Dantu in the seventeenth year of Hongwu.
The county treasury is empty, with just eight taels of silver left in the books. The people are so hungry that even the rats have fled.
Fortunately, he binds himself to the "Ming Dynasty Direct Hire" System, which lets him post jobs on modern recruitment platforms and lure contemporary workers to the Ming Dynasty.
Room and board included? Yes. Social insurance and housing fund? Yes. Nine to five, weekends off? ...We'll talk once you're here.
And so, a modern civil-service exam failure becomes the first adviser at the Ming county office, forced to write government reports with a brush. A construction worker is dumped in the Ming Dynasty to dig canals and build roads, and even has to moonlight on the flood rescue team. A retired military medic starts a public health training course, teaching the ancients to disinfect with lime and sterilize with boiling water. A former armed-police bodyguard carries an embroidered spring saber, shielding the hard-to-manage magistrate from blades and arrows.
The System provides rice seeds that yield a thousand catties per mu, leaving Ming Dynasty farmers calling it a miracle. Within a year, Dantu County goes from being strewn with starving corpses to a paradise on earth. Word spreads from Zhenjiang all the way to Yingtian Prefecture.
Zhu Yuanzhang: I hear there's a twenty-three-year-old magistrate in Dantu who grew heavenly grain?
Qin Wuliang: Your Majesty, it's scientific farming.
Zhu Yuanzhang: Speak plainly.
Qin Wuliang: ...It's Heaven's blessing on the Ming Dynasty.
The overworked wage slaves: We want to go home.
Qin Wuliang: You're already here. Why would you want to leave?
The Ming Dynasty is about to change, and this new era is being forged by a bunch of modern office drones forced to transmigrate, working with the spirit of 996.
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