“Hospital?” The man was clearly unable to accept the word from Brian Hill's mouth and suddenly spat out a mouthful of fresh blood. “That Liu official is determined to take my life—how could he possibly leave me a way out? Besides, I have no money to hire a doctor. Hahaha, to think that I, Edward Clark, always prided myself on my cleverness, yet have ended up like this—how pitiful, how lamentable!”

Edward Clark! Brian Hill instantly felt a chill run down his spine, a coldness creeping up his back. Forcing himself to stay calm, he asked in a trembling voice, “You say your name is Edward Clark? Is it this character ‘俅’?” He traced the character on the ground with his finger. Seeing the man nod slightly, he felt as if struck by lightning. After a long while, he finally asked, “What year and month is it now?”

The man who called himself Edward Clark frowned slightly, but still answered calmly, “It is now the eighth year of Yuan You in the Song dynasty, the ninth day of the first month. His Majesty has been on the throne for nearly eight years. How is it, brother, that you do not even know this?”

Hearing the words “eighth year of Yuan You,” Brian Hill’s face turned even more ashen. If he remembered correctly, Yuan You was the reign title of Emperor Zhezong of Song, definitely not the modern twenty-first century. No wonder the environment was unfamiliar, no wonder the clothing and speech were so archaic—he had actually traveled a thousand years into the past in his sleep! What should he do, what on earth should he do? His mind was in utter chaos, and he no longer had the energy to pay attention to the half-dead man on the ground. Yet in just an instant, someone grabbed his clothes tightly.

“To think that I, Edward Clark, only cared for my own pleasure in the past—this outcome is what I deserve. But at home I still have an aged father and a young brother, and my elder brother alone cannot care for both. If I die today, I beg you, brother, to go to my home and inform them, so they may bury my bones. I would be deeply grateful! My home is, is at Zhuque Gate in Bianjing…”

Seeing Edward Clark coughing up mouthfuls of blood, clearly breathing his last, Brian Hill felt even more lost. Who was Edward Clark? He was the number one infamous villain in “Water Margin,” the notorious father of the corrupt official 高衙内. Judging by this man’s age, he seemed barely twenty—could he really have died so young? What about the future Grand Marshal Gao, and the famous scene of Lin Chong storming the White Tiger Hall—would those still happen? Everything was in chaos!

“Take your time, don’t worry, you—you won’t die so soon!” Brian Hill fumbled awkwardly, his words a bit incoherent. After all, watching a “famous figure” die before his eyes was not something easy to accept.

“Heaven’s sins may be forgiven, but self-inflicted ones cannot be survived. Father, your son has failed you…” Edward Clark cried out hoarsely, then fell silent forever.

“Hey, wake up, wake up…” No matter how Brian Hill shook him, he could not wake Edward Clark. His heart instantly sank into a bottomless abyss. Although Edward Clark was a villain of the worst kind in “Water Margin,” the man before him seemed to have died “young,” not even twenty, which did not fit history at all. Somehow, the phrase “butterfly effect” suddenly came to mind, making him even more anxious. After all, the Jingkang Incident, which countless Chinese people mourned, happened in this very era. If his time-travel caused some unpredictable change in history, wouldn’t he be risking his own life?

He stood there in a daze for a moment, then suddenly clutched his head and burst out laughing at the sky. He had just been talking about time travel, and now he himself had ended up in the Song dynasty—what a ridiculous turn of events! Could it be that Heaven truly had eyes and unfathomable power? In his own era, who knew how many people lined up for such luck, so why had it happened to him?

“Heavens, you really are too much. At least let me say goodbye to my parents—now I’ll just become a missing person. And Little Grace, we’ve only been dating for three months…”

After venting his frustration with a loud roar, he glanced at the corpse on the ground, then looked down at his own “strange clothes.” A bold idea flashed through his mind. He was not like those predecessors in time-travel stories who could do anything, nor did he expect any kind soul to take in a vagrant of unknown origin. In these last years of the Northern Song, survival was the most important thing, so there was only one way to get through this crisis. Since fate had made him look exactly like Edward Clark, he could not be blamed for being ruthless.

Cautiously stepping outside to check, Brian Hill discovered that snowflakes were drifting down from the sky. He was in a dilapidated mountain temple, with no one around for miles, but behind the temple there was a small river that had not yet frozen over. He washed the bloodstains from Edward Clark’s clothes in the river until the marks were no longer obvious, then hung the clothes to dry on a tree. He also found an iron candlestick in the temple and began digging a pit.

After filling his stomach with some compressed biscuits from his down jacket pocket, he waited for the clothes to dry, then changed into Edward Clark’s garments. He dressed the corpse in his own clothes, buried them together deep in the ground, and hid his watch and lighter in a secret spot, carefully marking the location.

He looked at his reflection in the river, feeling secretly relieved. Even in the twenty-first century, it was rare for men to have long hair. If he hadn’t lost a bet to Samuel Wright, he would still have a crew cut. If he were to walk the streets with a crew cut at this time of year, not only would he fail to impersonate Edward Clark, he would probably be taken for a suspicious person and handed over to the authorities. It seemed everything was destined by fate.