I must be fucking crazy.

Robert Bennett pounded his head.

If you’ve got the guts, come out.

Robert Bennett sneered, thinking all of this was just a dream.

Suddenly, something dropped in front of him.

Robert Bennett glanced at it.

His whole body went stiff.

Holy shit!

It was that fruit knife.

A product of modern craftsmanship, gleaming in the spring sunlight of the Ming Dynasty.

Chapter 3: A Golden Opportunity to Change Fate

In the south, it rains a lot. The rain soaks the official road, softening the dirt path, and the heavy carts leave deep ruts, sometimes even footprints.

A folding fruit knife lay right in one of those ruts.

When folded, the fruit knife was about 10 centimeters long, with a plastic-wrapped handle.

Robert Bennett was stunned.

Years of education had made him instinctively treat the giant cauldron in his mind as a scene from a dream.

But this was the Ming Dynasty!

Plastic wouldn’t appear for hundreds of years.

“Who’s blocking the road!”

The soldiers escorting from behind saw the line stop and shouted angrily.

The prisoners behind took the chance to rest, gloating, “Officer, it’s Master Mao Cai!”

The word “Master” was laced with mockery.

In the past, people like this would have to lower their heads and make way when they saw Robert Bennett, but now everyone here was a convict being sent to the frontier. That feeling of dragging a god down from the heavens made the prisoners behind secretly delighted, wishing the soldiers would come over and whip Robert Bennett.

Footsteps hurried up from behind.

A prisoner, smug, turned to report.

Robert Bennett bent over, coughing violently, and took the opportunity to pick up the fruit knife, tucking it into his sleeve.

“What’s going on?” The soldier came over, whip in hand, looking unfriendly.

“Officer, Robert Bennett is refusing to move.” The prisoner’s name was Richard Howard.

Robert Bennett turned back, panting.

“My lung disease is acting up. I’ll move now.”

At a time like this, going head-to-head with the soldiers wasn’t cool—it was just stupid.

The soldier squinted, “Don’t delay the march, or else…”

“Yes, sir.”

Robert Bennett felt relieved and quickly caught up with the group.

Richard Howard muttered, “This guy’s so calm, why didn’t the officer beat him? Yesterday I tried to smile and got slapped instead.”

By this point, the Ming army was mostly a bunch of weaklings, especially the southern troops.

The south was the stronghold of Ming scholars and merchants. Years of peace had sapped the army’s fighting spirit, and the officers had no will to fight. The soldiers had become the laborers of the nobility and their superiors, suffering bitterly.

People who are bullied for a long time rarely dare to retaliate upwards; instead, they turn around and bully those even weaker than themselves.

Smiling and bowing only brought out the soldiers’ innate brutality.

Robert Bennett had at least once been a local leader, a minor warlord—he knew all about this.

As Robert Bennett walked with the group, he kept his hand in his sleeve, fiddling with the fruit knife.

The spring air was warm, but the cold metal made Robert Bennett’s mind razor-sharp.

All of this—

Was actually real!

At this moment, Robert Bennett had only one thought: Go home!

Even if all the aunts and matchmakers were waiting at home for this so-called rich son-in-law rumored to have made a fortune in South America, he’d go back without hesitation.

Even if those women looked him over like they were picking out merchandise, he’d accept it gladly.

So what if it’s matchmaking!

“Five hundred years of dynasty, with just over two hundred left.”

How could he save the dynasty?

Robert Bennett was at least a college graduate, always interested in history, and had read plenty of books about the Ming Dynasty.

In fact, the Ming’s fortunes started to decline after Zhu Zhanji, though later emperors tried to turn things around—like the Jiajing Emperor.

After ascending the throne as an imperial relative, the Jiajing Emperor was ambitious and wanted to make his mark, even enjoying a honeymoon period with his ministers.

But soon, the two sides clashed over the status of the late emperor and Jiajing’s biological father, sparking decades of covert struggle between ruler and ministers.

This was the famous “Great Rites Controversy,” which at its core was a power struggle.

In the twenty-first year of Jiajing’s reign, several palace maids nearly strangled him to death in his sleep.

After that, the palace was no place for a Daoist… The Jiajing Emperor moved to the Western Garden, living in seclusion and becoming the most devout Daoist follower.

From then on, the emperor was no emperor, the ministers no ministers.

In the south, Japanese pirates tormented the Ming for years.

In the north, steppe tribes constantly eyed the Central Plains.

Later came the three great campaigns of the Wanli era, and in the late Ming, disasters and chaos were everywhere.

Former household slaves rose up in rebellion, using various grievances as excuses, baring their fangs at the Ming…

External threats everywhere.

Internal strife unending.

How could such a Ming Dynasty last another 224 years?

Even the famous “pot-mender” Ranieri would have to kneel.

It was a dead end!

But he had no choice but to walk it.

Right now, what he had to do was find a chance to redeem himself and save his own skin.

Behind him, Richard Howard stopped muttering, and Robert Bennett heard a rumbling sound—he was hungry.

As convicts sent to the frontier, they only got one meal a day, all coarse food, and never enough. By custom, it would be like this the whole way, to prevent prisoners from getting full and plotting escape.

Robert Bennett was starving. He turned to look back.