The Southern Song's Number One Yamen Official

In the tenth year of Shaoxing, Lin'an, the Southern Song's capital, was a bustling city of willow-shaded streets and painted screens, a scene of dazzling prosperity.

Qin Hui, restored to power and appointed chancellor for the second time, was actively pushing for peace with the Jin, determined to wipe out the pro-war faction.

Far away in Ezhou, Yue Fei was training his troops and preparing to march north and reclaim the Central Plains.

As the wheels of history rolled on, Yue Zhan, an expert in cultural relic restoration, jolted awake from a dream. Looking at the lively nighttime streets of the capital before him, he fell silent, visibly shaken.

Scenes from the dream began to flicker past like reflections in flowing water:

The Jin swept south, sharpening their blades; a million cavalrymen watered their horses in the Yangtze; the Central Plains became a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood.

“Young Master?”

“Young Master?”

Yue Zhan came to, a bewildered look on his dazed face. He murmured to himself, “I... where am I?”

“Young Master, this is Yongle Tower, the hottest spot in Lin'an right now.”