In other words, it should now be the early seventeenth century, specifically between 1600 and 1610, but the exact year would only be known by finding someone from the West.

He didn’t know whether the Ming Dynasty had fallen, whether the newly risen Zhou Dynasty had changed history, whether Matteo Ricci and Michele Ruggieri had come to China, or whether Macau had been occupied by the Portuguese.

All of this was a mystery to him because he had only been in this time and place for a short while, and the lack of information left him completely in the dark.

Brian Brooks was not an engineering guy, but a liberal arts man—not a history major, but with some connection to history, having studied political education at a teachers’ college, so he had some understanding of history. That’s why he had a rough impression of the period from the late sixteenth to the early seventeenth century.

Fortunately, thanks to the Ming history craze sparked by “Those Ming Dynasty Things,” “1587, A Year of No Significance,” and “Ming Dynasty 1566,” this half-baked enthusiast had, in order to avoid being left out of conversations with colleagues at banquets and dinners, pretended to read “History of Ming.”

The problem was, it was all just a cursory glance, skimming the surface, barely digesting anything, but at least his memory was decent.

The issue now was that the Ming Dynasty had already ended, the Wanli era was gone, and the infamous eunuch and the carpenter emperor probably wouldn’t appear.

That so-called “prime minister for the ages,” Zhang Juzheng, had lost the stage of the Ming Dynasty, so he was probably out of the picture too. Even if he did appear, it wouldn’t be a major role, and from a timeline perspective, his story had long since ended.

What about the Imjin War? What about Toyotomi Hideyoshi and that old turtle Tokugawa?

Brian Brooks’s thoughts seemed to be flying everywhere. What about Li Chengliang? What about the Seven Grievances of the Jianzhou Jurchens?

Did these historical events still exist?

Brian Brooks was truly curious about what this already diverged world would become, but based on his cautious observations over the past month, it seemed that the situation of the Zhou Dynasty was not very promising. At least, from the little details in the countryside and towns, one could catch a glimpse of the bigger picture.

“Brother Keng, we’re almost at the dock.” Philip Brooks’s voice came from the front of the carriage. “Brother Qing and Brother Bao are all waiting.”

“Uncle You, what are they waiting for me for? Still hoping I’ll hand out something before I leave?” Brian Brooks sat up straight, reached out to pull aside the cloth curtain, his voice a bit hoarse. “I don’t need them. No matter how bad things get, it’s only a few days’ journey from here to the capital. What could possibly happen?”

Philip Brooks was his father’s personal attendant, and this time he was escorting him back to his hometown.

“Brother Keng, it’s good to have them with you. I heard the people from the capital have set up a yamen right next to the customs office at the dock. After paying the commercial tax, you still have to pay another miscellaneous tax. It’s tough—there’s trouble everywhere, and something might break out at any moment.”

On Philip Brooks’s dark face, there was a hideous scar on his left cheek.

Brian Brooks knew it was an arrow wound, received during a clash with Tatar cavalry in Datong. Luckily, it was a little off target, but even so, the nerves on the left side of Philip Brooks’s face were probably damaged, making his expression a bit unnatural and giving him a fierce look.

“Oh? How long have they been here? Did the palace send someone?”

These past few days, Brian Brooks had been staying at the old residence. He’d had a fever ever since disembarking, so high that he was in a daze, scaring Philip Brooks and the servants who had escorted him home half to death. It had taken a lot of effort to get through these days and finally recover.

But now Brian Brooks was already living his second life, a Brian Brooks with a soul blended from his previous life.

In this branch of the Feng family in the capital, by Brian Brooks’s generation, there was only Brian Brooks left. The eldest and second masters had both died in battle up north years ago, leaving only the third master as the sole heir.

If it weren’t for the passing of an important elder in the clan, and his father’s arrangement for him to return home to pay respects on his behalf, the Feng family would never have allowed their only heir to return to their hometown.

“I heard they’ve been here for half a year. It’s a eunuch from the palace,” Philip Brooks said, his expression unchanged. “These days, every time I go out, the streets feel tense. I have a feeling something’s about to happen, so it’s good for us to leave early.”

Leaving the Feng family’s residence on Yongqing Street, they had to go around two cross streets to reach the main road to the dock. Such roads, paved with mortar and stone slabs, could only be found on the way to the dock—smooth and steady.

Along the way, they could see vendors with sullen faces and merchants muttering curses under their breath. There were also several groups of people standing under the willows, arguing heatedly in the blazing sun.

Brian Brooks raised his hand to shield his forehead, looking ahead.

The sunlight was so harsh it was hard to keep his eyes open. Even after just a short while, Brian Brooks felt a stinging sensation on his face.

After waking from his coma, Brian Brooks quickly accepted reality.

To be honest, he even felt a bit lucky—at least he wouldn’t have to spend his whole life bedridden.

In this world, at least he had personal freedom, and it seemed his family background was pretty good. Well, a second-generation official, though it seemed military officials weren’t so highly regarded in this era.

So, as soon as he recovered enough to move, he took the initiative to start integrating into this world.

To integrate into this world, the first step was to get to know and understand it, because from the bits and pieces he’d learned from official histories, this world had already diverged.

It wasn’t his arrival as a butterfly that caused it; most likely, this was just one of countless similar planes in the endless cycles of history.