Legend of Dongyi: Waiting for a Thousand Years

Qi Dongyuan, a contemporary paleographer, touched a certain taboo by deciphering the "Riyue Mountain" pottery inscriptions of the Dawenkou Culture, and was struck back to the late Spring and Autumn Period by a bolt of lightning. When he woke up, he found that he had become a run-down noble named "Dongyuan" in the eastern border of Qi State - his ancestor was a descendant of the legendary King of Birds, Shaohao, and his village happened to be located in a place that would be razed by war twenty years later. But he soon discovered that something was wrong with the world. Confucius was fifteen years old, and his declaration of "aim to learn" had not yet been made; Sun Tzu was writing thirteen chapters of "The Art of War", but was troubled by inexplicable nightmares; Yan Ying had just passed away, and he repeatedly mentioned an "unspeakable secret" in his last words; and at the foot of Mount Tai, a stone engraved with strange symbols was being buried at the intersection by the villagers as an exorcism - those symbols were actually Qi Dongyuan's own handwriting written in the paper three thousand years later. What's even weirder is that there is a crazy woman named "Wu Yan" in the village who always says the same thing to him: "You are not the first, and you will not be the last. The hut on the mountain has been waiting for you for three thousand years." Qi Dongyuan began to investigate the cracks in this era. He discovered that there were many "abnormal points" scattered on the land of Qilu - the "Ten Thousand People Worry" stone tablet in front of Shaohao's Mausoleum would appear with blood-colored lines every full moon; giant iron-clad ships occasionally appeared in the mirage of Penglai Sea; Kunyu Mountain's In the Yanxia Cave, a Taoist who claimed to be from "later generations" left a wall full of delirium-like poems; and in Qufu, the capital of the Lu State, when Kong Li was born, there was an old man playing the piano and singing outside the delivery room, and what he sang was actually a poem written many years later...