1789, No Passes to Paris

In July 1789, Chen Sui woke up in the mud in Saint-Antoine, Paris. There was no coat of arms, no diocesan official documents, my French was broken, and my cell phone battery quickly ran out of battery. Guns are being snatched in the city, account books are being burned at checkpoints, and strangers with oriental faces are spies. His methods of survival were very crude: he could count the rivers and sues of old France, he could write the losses in the handover order, and he could pry open the door before the mob broke down. History will still capture the Bastille and still put heads on pikes. He can't change the general trend, he can only be half a step ahead of others - half a step early to get bread, half a step early to receive the red and blue cap badge, half a step early to see who is heading for the next round of purges. From the time of the siege to the foggy month, foreigners had no land. He must first let his fake name be left on this list that is being rewritten.