Liu Tiejun's Chaotic Life

My name is Liu Tiejun, I'm twenty-five years old, and I guard the "Lao Liu's Repair Shop" under the old locust tree in the southern district of the city. It was built on a broken ground last year. The rolling shutter door is so rusty that it rubs my skin. There are piles of pots and pans inside. The smell of solder mixed with rust is more friendly than the aroma of Lin Mei's pancakes. There are two things I do every day: fighting with the leaked pot, and "arguing" with the old neighbors. Unexpectedly, one day, Zhao Hu wearing Armani blocked my shop. This owner was wearing a Patek Philippe and an emerald ring, but with a gangster smile on his face, he threw away 10,000 yuan: "I hire you to study history. If someone changes the past, go and break it back." I almost dropped the chisel in my hand: "Brother, I didn't even finish high school and I knew Qin Shihuang and Zhuge Liang. How do I fix it?" He threw a fruit phone as a "communicator" and stuffed a metal plate as a "work permit": "You don't need to know history, just know how to fix pots. The tools are all commonly used by you." Seeing that I could buy Lin Mei a new souvenir and still have enough money to buy a floral skirt as a deposit, my mind immediately responded. Little did I know that once this "dog tag" was hung up, what I was dealing with was not a leaked pot, but a historical mess that had been messed up - never mind, make money first, then see how outrageous this job can be!