The Song Dynasty was a very unique period in history. It had three of the four great inventions, several times the tax revenue of other dynasties, a well-developed foreign trade and commercial scale, and a very high level of urbanization. It seemed on the verge of transforming into something even more advanced... Unfortunately, it ran into the historically unsolvable Mongols. Not only was its process of advancement interrupted, but it also ended up with the country destroyed and the dynasty fallen.

The protagonist, Brian Carter, is a seasoned professional who has transmigrated and been reborn three times. This time, he arrives in the Southern Song. Can a modern person who is neither physically adept nor knowledgeable about agriculture survive in the Song Dynasty? Can he replicate the success of his previous two transmigrations in the Song?

This is the story this book tells. Let's see what different methods he will use—not only to live a comfortable life himself, but also to lend a hand to the small Southern Song court, helping it weather the disaster that swept across most of the globe. With Brian Carter as its shield, the Southern Song is like it's been vaccinated against the flu and can loudly proclaim to the world: We don't cough anymore!

Volume One: The Southern Song Tanka People

Chapter One: I Can't Die

"Cough... cough... cough! You bastard Sun! You only dare bully me because I can't move. If you've got guts, tell me where you live—I'll buy a launch rocket and nuke your whole family! I work for a damn rocket launch company, are you scared or not?" Brian Carter was choking on a mouthful of water, his nose burning like it was on fire, nearly dying, and yet someone was still bullying him. Is there any justice left in this world?

"Plop... plop..." No one answered his curses, and the sharp voice from earlier had disappeared. But the sound in his ears confused Brian Carter; it sounded a lot like seawater slapping against something. Back when he sailed around the world on a yacht, he couldn't have been more familiar with this sound. Could it be that the Mouse Superman was leaking? That shouldn't be—if even someone as reliable as Amundsen could trick him, then the world really was doomed.

"Hiss..." Suddenly, Brian Carter felt something was off. He actually shivered and gradually started to feel cold!

Ever since his body became paralyzed, he couldn't feel hot or cold, and even if someone cut him with a knife, he wouldn't feel any pain. But now he could actually feel cold—this was damn unscientific! And not just cold; he seemed to be able to feel his arms and legs moving constantly. The drowsiness that had weighed him down was instantly dispelled, and he struggled to open his heavy eyelids.

"Damn it! Am I really doomed? How did I end up on the sea? Where's my Mouse Superman?" With a blinding flash of sunlight, Brian Carter finally saw clearly—he wasn't in the cabin, but clinging to a broken piece of wood, floating on the sea, with no sign of the Mouse Superman anywhere around.

"Hey... I can move... I can move... hahahahaha... cough cough cough!" Then, Brian Carter naturally discovered that his arms and legs could all move—otherwise, how could he be holding onto that piece of wood? The immense joy left him at a loss for words. Laughing up at the sky was a must, but it wasn't the right time. He had barely opened his mouth to laugh when a wave crashed over his head, filling his mouth with bitter seawater.

"This doesn't look like the Caribbean, does it? That thing in the distance doesn't look like Pyramid Island either. Where's my pyramid?" After confirming that his body could move, Brian Carter began to observe his surroundings.

With this observation, he immediately noticed many things were off. First, the color and temperature of the seawater were very different from the Caribbean. Second, there was a small, hazy island in the distance, but its shape and size were nothing like Pyramid Island, and there was no pyramid reflecting sunlight on it. Finally, he spotted a small boat flickering in and out of view to his left. He couldn't make out the exact type, but it was definitely a boat, and it seemed to have a sail.

"Hey... help! Over here... over here..." Brian Carter roughly estimated that he was at least two kilometers from the island. With this broken piece of wood, he could swim there, but it would take a lot of energy. Wouldn't it be easier to hitch a ride? So, he treaded water, trying to stand the two-meter-long piece of wood upright in the water, and while shouting, slapped the wood down onto the sea surface. Sound travels farther through water than air.

Whether it was Brian Carter's method that worked or the boat was already heading his way, the distance between them grew shorter and shorter, and Brian Carter's heart grew colder and colder. The boat was too small! It was less than five meters long, with a short mast holding a black sail the size of a quilt. There were only two people on board—one standing by the mast at the rail, the other at the stern, holding something and rocking it back and forth, which looked like an oar. Because the distance was still a bit far, Brian Carter couldn't see their faces clearly, only that both were bare-chested.