Volume One: The Prodigal of Jinling

Chapter One: Dreamlike Reality

The Dazhong Bridge inside Tongji Gate was a main thoroughfare in the southern part of Nanjing. To the east of Dazhong Bridge lay the imperial palace and the major government offices such as the Five Directorates and Six Ministries; to the west, along Taiping Lane, Mafujie, and Changfujie, stood rows of old mansions, arranged in an orderly fashion. At first glance, some had already lost their former splendor—the roof tiles had been replaced time and again, no longer as neat as before, and vines crept up the walls inside. Yet, when it came to the age of these houses, they could often be traced back fifty or even a hundred years.

Compared to Mafujie and Changfujie, which still housed many high-ranking officials and nobles, Taiping Lane appeared more desolate. This desolation did not mean it was deserted, but rather that most of the prominent families who once lived here had been relocated when the capital moved. Though many old families with long histories remained, they were all past their prime. Even though this was still the prime location closest to the imperial city and major government offices, after the Yongle Emperor moved the capital to Beijing, Nanjing officials no longer needed to attend court and preferred to live in villas by Xuanwu Lake or Mochou Lake. Instead, many wealthy merchants from other regions gathered here to do business, making this once solemn and dignified place extremely lively.

It was early morning. The Five Directorates, Six Ministries, and other government offices were still silent in the dawn, but early-rising citizens were already coming and going on the streets. Under Dazhong Bridge, many people had come to fetch water; the sound of cart wheels and voices made the place quite noisy. Yet at the end of the bridge, where few people passed, a young boy was sprawled weakly over the railing.

The boy wore an ordinary yellow-brown cotton robe with a right-lapped collar, and on his feet were a pair of half-worn, half-new black cloth shoes with white soles. He looked about thirteen or fourteen years old. He lay there, gazing intently in all directions, his eyes occasionally glancing at the towering imperial city not far away. After a long while, he slapped his own face hard and suddenly muttered, “Am I really not dreaming?”

“Help!”

“Huh, someone’s in the water!”

“They floated over from the north side of the moat…”

With a faint cry for help and a sudden commotion from under the bridge, the boy snapped to attention. Grabbing the railing and looking down, he saw a figure bobbing in the water, seemingly clutching something like a wooden plank. Several men fetching water on the bank were shouting, but not one of them jumped in to help. Faced with this situation, the boy was stunned at first, but then immediately took off his robe and shoes, climbed onto the railing in a few quick steps, and leaped in.

The river water in February was, of course, icy cold. As soon as he hit the water, his teeth chattered uncontrollably. Taking a deep breath, he swam with all his might toward the person in the water. Though his injuries still ached and he wasn’t used to moving his arms and legs, he summoned all his strength and finally managed to reach the drowning man, grabbing him by the collar.

However, just as he was about to swim back, the drowning man, panicked by the sudden rescue, clung to him like an octopus. Caught off guard, he gulped down several mouthfuls of water and struggled desperately, but the man’s grip was too strong. Not only did he fail to break free, but he was gradually dragged down with him.

“Turns out being a good person doesn’t pay… But if dying really wakes me from this dream, then this good deed isn’t a loss!”

This was the last thought Brian Clark had before losing consciousness.

……

“Young master, young master!”

Is this dream never going to end?

Half-awake, Brian Clark heard the repeated calls and couldn’t help but feel a sense of absurdity. When he was young, Brian Clark had once been respectfully addressed as Young Master Clark, but after his parents were both killed in a car accident, their former business partners and trusted subordinates quickly showed him the taste of betrayal and isolation. To outsiders, he seemed to have fallen into despair, but in truth, he endured in silence, doing everything he could to uncover the truth and began a long struggle.

A gentleman’s revenge is never too late, and he did get his revenge. But after that careless misstep, he experienced the strangest event of his life. Anyone would be shocked to wake up covered in injuries, dressed in ancient clothes, lying in bed, and suddenly much younger—how could he stay put? So he snuck out early in the morning, but when he reached Dazhong Bridge and saw the ancient scenery that only appeared in TV dramas, he couldn’t help but stare. When he saw someone fall into the water, he might have hesitated in real life, but thinking it might be a dream, he impulsively played the good Samaritan.

“Young master, young master!”