[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-assuming-the-langya-surname":3,"chapter-assuming-the-langya-surname-assuming-the-langya-surname-chapter-1":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"chinese","The False Clan of Langya",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":18,"prevChapterSlug":19,"totalChapters":20,"novelImage":21},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":12,"translator":16,"content_hash":17},2273797,4442,"Chapter 1: Soul Vase","assuming-the-langya-surname-chapter-1",1,"\u003Cp>Dusk haze stretched vast and dim, dense grass merging with the sky.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Beneath the setting sun, a river surged forward with furious speed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wang Yang slowly opened his eyes, feeling the world spin wildly, his head dizzy and blurred.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Where is this?!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Just moments ago I was walking through a museum—how could I possibly be here now?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He forced himself to sit up, stunned to find three others rising beside him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>All three had their hair tied in topknots and wore rough, tattered hemp tunics, dressed like ancient people.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Two of them were young.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>One was as stout as an ox, like a Vajra warrior;\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The other was extraordinarily handsome, like a idol-drama heartthrob;\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The last was an ordinary-looking man in his forties or fifties.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>To Wang Yang’s right lay a gaunt man motionless in the grass.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Including the lying gaunt man, the five of them formed a small circle by position.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In the center sat a crudely woven grass basket; nearby rested a clay jar with its bottom blackened by fire, holding a few drops of leftover broth.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Beside the jar lay a wooden bowl, topped with a large wooden spoon, filled with black liquid; Wang Yang sniffed the scent drifting up and thought it might be vinegar.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The four stared at each other, silent for a long moment.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wang Yang instinctively reached to push his glasses—and met empty air.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Perhaps noticing the gesture, the middle-aged man fixed his gaze on Wang Yang and ventured: “Wang... Dr. Wang?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wang Yang blinked: “Xu Editor?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Yes! Yes!” the middle-aged man replied at once. “How did we end up here? And you... how did you become like this?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wang Yang suddenly realized something and rushed to the riverbank. The other three followed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Reflected in the water was the face of a boy, no older than seventeen or eighteen.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Thin eyebrows, bright eyes, a slightly high nose bridge—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In appearance, he was plainly handsome, yet his complexion was unnaturally pale, and his frail frame made him look timid. His eyes were slightly red, weary and weak.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He wore no glasses, yet his vision was sharp as carved stone—something he hadn’t felt since his sixth-grade myopia.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A stifled laugh broke from beside him; the handsome boy danced with excitement:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“We’ve crossed over! We’ve crossed over! Read countless time-travel novels—and now it’s finally happened! Ha ha ha! This museum wasn’t a waste! Ha ha ha! And I’m even hot-looking now!!!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He touched his own face, glanced at the others’, confirmed he was the most handsome among them, and burst into ecstatic delight.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The strong man stretched his limbs, cracking his joints with pops, then punched the air a few times, as if adjusting to this new body, scoffing:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“It’s ancient times—can’t become a celebrity. Looks mean nothing.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The handsome boy, still in high spirits, wasn’t offended by the jab—he grew even more enthusiastic: “Maybe it’s not ancient at all! Maybe it’s fantasy! Or xianxia!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The strong man replied firmly: “What are you thinking? Crossed over in a museum? Obviously ancient.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Ancient’s fine! We can copy poems! Copy lyrics! Copy novels! We’ve got to divide them properly—each person takes one category! Don’t overlap!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The strong man snorted: “Copy novels? You think this is web fiction? Try reciting *Dream of the Red Chamber* for me!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The handsome boy froze: “I can’t recite it—but maybe someone else can.” He turned to Wang Yang: “You’re a doctor? What’s your specialty?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wang Yang said: “I’m not a doctor—I’m a doctoral candidate.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The handsome boy looked puzzled: “What’s the difference?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Only those who pass their doctoral defense are called doctors. I’m in my second year—I haven’t graduated yet.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The strong man asked bluntly: “What are you studying?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Literature.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The strong man sneered: “What good is that? Literature doesn’t know history—useless for time travel!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The middle-aged man, long familiar with Wang Yang’s reputation, had been assigned by the publisher to collaborate with the museum on a paper collection—Wang Yang was one of the authors. He immediately explained: “Dr. Wang specializes in classical literature—”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The strong man cut him off: “So what if it’s classical literature? Does he know history? Can he recite *Dream of the Red Chamber*?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He stared at Wang Yang, voice absolute, as if stating an undeniable truth: “Let me tell you—no matter if you’re a doctor or even a postdoc, nobody can recite *Dream of the Red Chamber*!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The handsome boy turned to Wang Yang: “Can you really not?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The strong man growled impatiently: “It’s obvious! I’ll tell you straight—no one in the whole country can recite *Dream of the Red Chamber*!” He turned back to Wang Yang, smug: “Tell me, am I right?!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wang Yang said nothing. He had no interest in this pointless debate, nor in explaining to the strong man the scope and boundaries of classical scholarship, or the distinctions between broad and pure literary perspectives.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The *Dream of the Red Chamber* issue was even further from his concerns.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Not to mention “each age has its own literature,” “each age has its own strengths.” Literary standards shift with time—Li Bai’s “Invitation to Wine” might vanish if written in the Warring States; Su Shi’s “Reminiscences of Chibi” might be dismissed as vulgar if composed centuries earlier.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>We don’t even know what era we’re in—why talk about copying poems or novels?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even if we could, weren’t there countless literary masters in history?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Li Bai, Du Fu, Su Shi, Xin Qiji—each a genius, yet which one truly succeeded?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Success” isn’t just about rank. Even if we speak only of rank—Su Shi held high office, yet what became of him?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Do you know what a ‘Redologist’ is? Even Liu Xinwu wrote a sequel to *Dream of the Red Chamber*,” the middle-aged man couldn’t help saying to the strong man.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Though the strong man didn’t know who Liu Xinwu was, he retorted quickly: “What’s his sequel worth? Can it compare to the original? And I’m talking about reciting—not writing sequels!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The middle-aged man opened his mouth to reply, but Wang Yang suddenly said: “Don’t you think our accents sound strange?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The three stared at him, puzzled. The handsome boy said: “No difference—it’s the same as before.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The middle-aged man thought a moment: “I didn’t notice anything odd.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even the most argumentative strong man nodded in agreement.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Wait.” Wang Yang hesitated, opened his mouth several times, then closed it, rethinking, clearly struggling to speak.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The strong man snapped: “Just say what you want!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wang Yang gestured with his fingers, slowly uttering one word: “Peach blossom.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He paused, then spoke slowly, syllable by syllable: “Peach blossom blooms. Peach blossom fades.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His expression relaxed, as if those few words had drained him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The three looked confused. The boy murmured: “Peach blossom blooms. Peach blossom fades. What’s that?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Upon hearing the boy repeat it, the middle-aged man and the strong man simultaneously realized— the middle-aged man exclaimed: “Dr. Wang just spoke in Mandarin!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Since waking on the grass, all of them had been speaking a tone they’d never heard before—strange, awkward, utterly unlike modern Mandarin—yet not one of them noticed this glaring fact until now!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Are we... still speaking Chinese?” the boy asked in horror, staring at Wang Yang.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wang Yang thought a moment: “Yes. We’re speaking Middle Chinese. Middle Chinese differs greatly from modern Mandarin. For example, the ‘tao’ in ‘peach blossom’—in Mandarin, its initial is an aspirated voiceless consonant \u002Ft\u002F, but in Middle Chinese it was a level-tone voiced sound! And the ‘bai’ in ‘fade’—in Mandarin, its initial is unaspirated voiceless, but in Middle Chinese it became a oblique-tone voiced sound. Likewise...”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The strong man interrupted impatiently: “Stop quoting books! Tell us something useful—what does ‘Middle’ even mean?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Han to Tang,” Wang Yang replied briefly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Contemporary historical scholarship commonly refers to the Wei-Jin, Northern and Southern Dynasties, Sui, and Tang periods as “Middle Age,” distinguishing it from the “Recent Age” after the Tang-Song transformation.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“So we’ve crossed into some dynasty between Han and Tang?” the middle-aged man asked.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wang Yang nodded. His primary research focused on pre-Tang literature and Tang-Song intellectual history, with some study of Han culture. In terms of historical facts, he knew Han best and Tang most thoroughly. If this irreversible crossing were real, he’d prefer one of these two eras—his familiarity with details would help him navigate safely.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“We didn’t inherit the original host’s memories—but we inherited the accent?! But that doesn’t matter!” The handsome boy waved his hand cheerfully: “What matters is we can copy Song lyrics! No matter which dynasty between Han and Tang, they definitely didn’t have Song lyrics yet!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The strong man said: “How many Song lyrics can you even recite? With four of us, how many will each get? Dr. Wang, you probably know more poems—better contribute them. Don’t hoard!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wang Yang said nothing. He thought: Even in Tang, ci poetry was a minor art—relying on a few Song lyrics to survive was pure fantasy. Even in Song, Liu Yong and Jiang Kui were masters of ci—yet one lived in obscurity his whole life, the other in perpetual poverty. No. My mother’s still in the modern world—I must find a way back!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“What we should be thinking about isn’t which Song lyrics to copy—but how to get back!” The middle-aged man’s brow was furrowed with worry. He had no such cheerful mood—the wife and children he left behind were waiting. He had to return.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Go back? I’m not going back! Crossing over is harder than winning the lottery! Especially into such a handsome body! I’m clearly the protagonist! Here, we can have anything we want—rule the world, sleep with beauties—better than going back to haul bricks?!” The handsome boy grew more and more exhilarated.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The strong man smiled at the middle-aged man: “Of course he wants to stay—he didn’t get a young body. By the way, how old were you before you crossed?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The middle-aged man ignored the argumentative fool, stepped to Wang Yang’s side, and pleaded anxiously: “Dr. Wang, what do we do? I have a wife and children—my daughter’s only five. I can’t stay!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The handsome boy also asked Wang Yang: “By the way, were there limits on concubines in ancient times?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The strong man sneered: “Why ask him?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Better than asking you!” the middle-aged man retorted.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The strong man shrugged: “I’m laughing—like you—”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wang Yang stopped them from arguing further: “Let’s focus. Do you remember the scene before we crossed over?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He turned to the middle-aged man: “I remember we were in the museum, looking at a soul-vase unearthed from an ancient tomb...”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Yes! There was a porcelain vase! I was looking at it too!” the handsome boy said.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wang Yang mused: “So we must have crossed over while all looking at that soul-vase—meaning...”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The middle-aged man slapped his thigh: “I remember! We were five people standing around that display!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The four glanced at each other, then remembered the man lying in the grass. They hurried over—he was struggling to sit up, and upon seeing them approach, his gaunt face turned instantly pale.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The handsome boy beamed at the gaunt man: “Buddy, good news—we crossed over! The whole world’s ours now!” Then he let out an exaggerated “Hohoho!” laugh.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The strong man snorted: “Middle-schooler.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Neither noticed the gaunt man’s body trembling slightly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wang Yang patted the gaunt man’s shoulder: “You alright?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The gaunt man’s face was deathly pale, his expression dazed, trembling harder.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The strong man mocked: “Your mental strength’s terrible—woke up last.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wang Yang looked at the gaunt man: “We’re standing exactly where we were when we looked at the soul-vase in the museum.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Except for the gaunt man, who sat hunched over, clutching his head, the other four returned to their original positions—exactly matching where they’d woken. Between them lay the grass basket.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wang Yang stepped forward to examine the basket; the strong man lunged ahead and joined him in lifting the lid, while the middle-aged man and handsome boy crowded close.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wang Yang and the strong man pulled items out of the straw basket.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was a finely crafted blue porcelain jar, its body molded with raised and recessed figures, its lid shaped like pavilions and towers.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The middle-aged man’s eyes lit up: “It’s a soul jar! The very one we saw in the museum! Could this be why we crossed over?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The handsome boy asked: “What’s a soul jar?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wang Yang said: “A soul jar is an ancient burial artifact, said to have the power to collect and pacify spirits.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“What’s a burial artifact?” The handsome boy reached out to touch the painted figures on the jar: “Are these birds carved here?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wang Yang did not answer the question about burial artifacts; his gaze was fixed entirely on the painted figures on the jar:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“This is the Vermilion Bird. ‘The Vermilion Bird leads the way, drawing the chariot of Taiyi.’ The depiction of the Vermilion Bird on soul jars was likely meant to guide souls. Our secret of crossing over may lie within it.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He reached to take the soul jar for closer inspection, but the strong man gripped one end tightly and refused to let go.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“If the soul jar can bring us here, it must also take us back!” The middle-aged man’s voice trembled slightly—this was his only hope of returning home. As if to strengthen his conviction, he turned to Wang Yang: “Right?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Though Wang Yang had no confidence himself, he nodded to comfort him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Let me look. The soul jar’s secret lies in its body.” The strong man pulled the jar toward his face.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You know about soul jars?” The handsome boy asked in surprise.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Of course. I read a post online specifically about soul jars. Look—there are characters here! Little Doctor, let go so I can examine them closely.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wang Yang released his grip, leaning forward—but saw no characters. The handsome boy and the middle-aged man also leaned in.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Where are the characters?” the handsome boy asked.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You need to wash it. Wash it, and the characters will appear.” The strong man spoke with calm certainty, carrying the soul jar straight toward the river.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wang Yang’s expression turned serious; he hurried after him: “I’ll come with you.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“No need, no need. Wait here. I can handle it alone.” The strong man’s tone was unusually polite.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“It’s fine. We’re just sitting around anyway.” Wang Yang quickened his pace.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The strong man suddenly broke into a run!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wang Yang chased after him!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The handsome boy and the middle-aged man only realized what was happening and followed suit.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As they neared the riverbank, the strong man raised the soul jar—not to throw it into the water, but to smash it hard against the ground!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>There was a loud crash—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The soul jar shattered into pieces!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Everyone froze. The middle-aged man let out a cry.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>While everyone was stunned, the strong man kicked out, sweeping most of the shards into the river!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wang Yang ignored the strong man and rushed to the riverbank—only to see vast, rushing waters, with no trace of the soul jar fragments!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The middle-aged man went mad, lunging toward the river, but Wang Yang held him back tightly: “Xu Bian! Calm down!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You’re insane!” The handsome boy stared in shock at the strong man.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The strong man said: “Are you stupid? If they figure out how to use the soul jar to send us back, what then?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The handsome boy hesitated, his voice weakening: “But still… you shouldn’t…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You bastard!” The middle-aged man’s eyes turned red as he lunged at the strong man.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Stop!” Wang Yang suddenly shouted, his voice sharp and commanding. The middle-aged man froze instinctively—only to find Wang Yang had already passed him, sprinting toward the thin man who had just risen from the grass.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The others, confused, followed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Where are you going?” Wang Yang asked.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The thin man forced a weak smile: “N-no… nothing…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wang Yang stared intently at the thin man, then suddenly asked: “What’s your favorite movie?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“What?” The handsome boy was baffled.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You’re nuts!” The strong man muttered irritably.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You idiot!” The middle-aged man grabbed the thick, ragged collar of the strong man’s hemp shirt.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Let go.” The strong man’s face darkened.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Under Wang Yang’s gaze, the thin man’s facial muscles trembled more violently.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Just name one. Any one will do.” Wang Yang stepped closer to the thin man.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The other three sensed something was wrong and turned to stare at the thin man.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The thin man suddenly shoved Wang Yang—Wang Yang staggered back, stepping on a bowl of vinegar, spilling most of the black liquid onto his pant leg, soaking a large patch of fabric.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The thin man turned and bolted, screaming hysterically: “Ghost! Ghost! A demon has possessed me!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wang Yang ignored the vinegar, shouting: “Chase him! He’s not from the modern world!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>————————————————\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Note: ① The phrase “Each generation has its own superiority” originates from Qing scholar Jiao Xun, later adopted and developed by Wang Guowei, Hu Shi, and others, who argued that literature evolves with the times, each era possessing its own dominant literary forms.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>② The use of the term “Middle Ages” in academia is not absolute. An interesting phenomenon is that scholars studying the Wei-Jin and Southern and Northern Dynasties traditionally refer to their period as “Middle Ages,” while in the past decade, scholars of the Song to Ming periods have increasingly adopted the term “Middle Ages” as well, aligning with the Western Sinological concept of “Middle Period,” some translating it as “Middle Phase” rather than “Middle Ages.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yet the expansion of the “Middle Ages” concept is indeed a trend. For instance, at the third Middle Period China conference held at Yale last year, over half the participants studied the Song and later periods, with the timeframe set as 220–1600 CE—an overly broad span that, while breaking down barriers, dilutes the deeper meaning of the term “Middle Ages.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>③ The notion that literature is limited to poetry, lyrics, and fiction stems from the Western modern concept of “literature” as pure literature. China has always held a broad view of literature; Zhang Taiyan defined it thus: “Literature refers to writings inscribed on bamboo or silk; the study of its forms and rules is called literature.” According to Zhang, the term “literature” encompasses a vast domain.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Today, a few major classical literature research institutes still uphold the traditional approach, integrating philology, lexicography, and historiography, rather than restricting themselves to pure literature alone.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>④ The Middle Ages was the age of aristocratic clans; until the end of the Tang, these clans dominated society. From the Song onward, they vanished, ushering in a fully civilian society that continues to this day. If we compare history to the Yellow River, the Middle Ages is the bend where the current is fierce and turbulent. Afterward, the river changed course, its landscape transformed entirely. A popular saying, “Tang affairs resemble antiquity; Song affairs resemble the present,” aptly reflects the watershed status of the Middle Ages.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yet this saying is an academic myth. Those who spread it often attribute it to Chen Yinke, even citing it in academic papers—an odd occurrence. In my view, Chen never said this. I suspect the myth’s prototype may be Liu Boji’s statement in *A History of Song Politics and Religion*: “Tang governance resembles antiquity; Song governance resembles the present.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In short, the Middle Ages is a fascinating era, its civilization intertwined with barbarism, grandeur with darkness, greatness with baseness, all mingling like silt and water into a single flow. To observe modern individuals tumbling into this great current, splashing up waves that eventually swell into towering surges, is even more fascinating.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I will strive to recreate the authentic historical environment—no secret manuals, no divine fortune—just a modern man thrust directly into the turbulent, unpredictable Southern and Northern Dynasties, forced to survive by his own wits.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Once reality enters the picture, many things become far harder. Beyond the act of crossing over, the language barrier alone is formidable: most modern people cannot understand ancient pronunciation, let alone converse with ancients. And consider household registration—ancient China’s system was highly developed; being undocumented was nearly impossible to survive.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Why do some slightly serious time-travel novels begin their stories with the protagonist inheriting the original body’s memories, years after the crossing?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Because starting from a blank slate is simply too difficult. Inheriting memories solves identity issues effortlessly, allowing seamless integration into the past.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But integrating into the past has never been simple.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I know this approach may be laborious and unpopular—many readers may not care about these details—but I still wish to carve with precision, to place a modern man vividly into a real, lifelike historical world, and observe how he survives and solves problems.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I will depict this process carefully and meticulously. Now, please join me as we enter this dark, turbulent, and magnificent Middle Ages!\u003C\u002Fp>",3462,"2026-06-19T23:36:03.373Z","Qwen3-Next 80B","1dfced943a4e40075de86976792f0e8f00d10465e99af41911e838905e687e62","assuming-the-langya-surname-chapter-2",null,62,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fthe-false-clan-of-langya-cover.jpg"]