Ethan Taylor has a prestigious family background and memories of foresight from his previous life. Watch as he carves out a path in the tumultuous world of officialdom, accompanied by several beautiful women, sailing across China.

Warm and uplifting, with power struggles as a secondary theme.

Primarily urban, with officialdom as a supplement.

A different kind of urban officialdom novel—relaxed but not childish, striving to appeal to both refined and popular tastes.

Volume One: Storms in a Small Town

Chapter One: Zhuang Zhou’s Butterfly Dream?

Ethan Taylor slowly opened his eyes, his head aching terribly, as if someone were hammering iron nails into it. His whole body was burning hot, and his throat was so dry it felt like it was smoking. He couldn’t help but moan, “Water…” But his voice was so weak even he could barely hear it.

“Mr. Taylor, you’re awake! That’s wonderful…” A girl’s crisp voice sounded in his daze, ethereal, as if it was right by his ear, yet also far away.

Ethan Taylor didn’t register what the other person was saying. He only felt something cold touch his lips, and cool spring water moistened them. Like a nursing child, he immediately latched onto the vessel and gulped down the water. A wave of coolness traveled from his throat down to his stomach, bringing indescribable comfort. Ethan Taylor’s mind cleared, and the scene before him gradually came into focus. But when he saw the girl holding a cup and feeding him water, he was so shocked that he blurted out, “Mom?!”

The pretty girl before him had neat short hair, almond-shaped eyes, and rosy cheeks, her face very similar to his godmother’s—only much younger, with even more delicate skin. Her white jeans were tightly fitted, showing off their elasticity, and her white turtleneck clung to her body, outlining the alluring curves of her chest. Compared to his godmother’s mature charm, she had less seductiveness and more youthful vitality—she looked exactly like the young beauty in the photos his godmother had shown him from over a decade ago.

“Mr. Taylor, what are you saying?” The girl blushed, stepped back lightly, and her hand trembled, splashing water onto her delicate black shoes. She frowned slightly, set the cup on the wooden table by the bed, and turned to look at Ethan Taylor with a hint of confusion. Like his godmother, her eyes and brows naturally carried a hint of allure, and her beautiful large eyes seemed to have a soul-stealing magic. But Ethan Taylor knew she was still an innocent girl. He had experienced the irresistible allure of a true woman in his godmother, but this girl was still a green apple.

“Mr. Taylor, it’s good that you’re awake. Your fever hasn’t gone down yet, so you should rest a few more days. By the way, is there anything you’d like to eat? I’ll go get it for you.” The pretty girl picked up a small brown leather purse from the table—a delicate bag, though a bit outdated in style.

Only then did Ethan Taylor notice that he seemed to be in a hospital ward. The air was filled with the smell of soda water, and across the wooden table was another snow-white hospital bed, but it appeared to be empty.

After hesitating, Ethan Taylor couldn’t help but ask, “Where is this? And… who are you?” Could it be that his godmother’s sister was taking care of him? But he’d never heard of her having any sisters.

The girl looked at Ethan Taylor in surprise, her small mouth open in a cute expression. “Mr. Taylor, you don’t recognize me? I’m Emma Brooks. This is… this is the town clinic. Ah, I’d better call the doctor. You’re not… amnesiac, are you…”

When he heard the girl say her name was Emma Brooks, Ethan Taylor was stunned. How could her name be exactly the same as his godmother’s? In his daze, he didn’t catch the rest of her words. He had so many questions, like why she called him Mr. Taylor—what kind of secretary was he? Ethan Taylor tried to organize his chaotic thoughts to ask clearly, but as he inadvertently turned his head, he caught sight of his own reflection in the round mirror on the table. Ethan Taylor’s mind buzzed, as if struck by lightning, and he froze, unable to move.

Is… is this me? Ethan Taylor stared at the delicate face in the mirror—familiar yet strange. This was definitely not his own face, but it was so familiar. Who did it look like? Ah, that’s right! He remembered—his adoptive father from over a decade ago, the first time he met him. Wasn’t this exactly how he looked?

He stared blankly at his face in the mirror, not knowing how long he was lost in thought, until the girl gently tugged at his collar. Ethan Taylor snapped back to reality and turned to see the girl’s eyes filled with fear as she asked in a low voice, “What’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell? Should I get the doctor?”

Ethan Taylor’s gaze fell on the calendar hanging on the wall behind the girl. On the brand-new calendar, the year at the top was printed in green numbers: 1991. Ethan Taylor asked in confusion, “Is this a new calendar? This year is… 1991?” By the end, his voice was trembling.

The girl nodded gently. Ethan Taylor collapsed onto the bed like a deflated ball, his mind churning with confusion and helplessness. He had inexplicably arrived seventeen years in the past and, even more inexplicably, become someone else—his adoptive father, the man he respected most, who had adopted him at the age of six.