“We are now in the area of Lushi County in Hongnong Commandery. If we head east for a little over a hundred li, we’ll reach Henan Commandery. The capital is not far from here.”

‘Hongnong Commandery!’ Eric Bolton quickly sketched a map in his mind. That made sense—he had lost his way somewhere around Sanmenxia.

Eric Bolton stood up and slowly walked out of the hut. He took a deep breath of the cold, fresh air and gazed up at the star-filled sky. The night was so pure, like black velvet stretching endlessly across the heavens, studded with countless brilliant gems.

He didn’t know which constellation hid the road home, nor which star foretold his future. In the darkness, it all seemed like fate. At this moment, a deep sense of helplessness and confusion welled up in his heart.

It was already late at night. Eric Bolton leaned against a big tree, unable to sleep for a long time. He stared at the stars above, his thoughts drifting thousands of miles away.

Samuel Young had rebelled. It was the ninth year of the Daye era, the second campaign against Goguryeo. Bits and pieces of information gradually came together in his mind.

Just a month ago, he had participated in a debate at the academy about the real reasons why Robert Young launched three wars against Goguryeo.

Goguryeo had a population of only about a million, and its territory was equivalent to just one province of the Sui dynasty. The Sui empire, on the other hand, had over fifty million people, was powerful and prosperous, and its armies had fought victoriously north and south, making it one of the most elite forces in history.

To deal with such a small vassal state, Robert Young mobilized the entire nation, sent a million troops, and even led the army himself. When the Sui army defeated the truly formidable enemy, the Turks, it was only Charles Young who led a force of a hundred thousand. Even when John Young waged the wars to unify the north and south, it was never on such a grand scale.

Was Robert Young really so foolish? With the empire in turmoil, he still launched three campaigns against Goguryeo, losing a million soldiers?

A man who could lead armies to unify the north and south, win the brutal struggle for imperial power, defeat the powerful Turks, expand the empire’s borders, govern the Western Regions, and dig the Grand Canal to link north and south—

Such a brilliant and capable ruler could not possibly have made such a basic mistake. There must have been deeper reasons behind Robert Young’s three campaigns against Goguryeo.

The Sui dynasty was short-lived, but it marked the beginning of the medieval era, the start of a new unification, the origin of the imperial examination system and the Three Departments and Six Ministries, the construction of the Grand Canal, the Great Wall, Chang’an, Luoyang, the Zhaozhou Bridge—countless great achievements. Its importance was no less than that of the equally short-lived Qin dynasty.

He had come to this era, so misunderstood and maligned by later generations. What could he, Eric Bolton, accomplish in this age of heroes?

Eric Bolton took out his pistol, removed the magazine, and checked it. His luck was bad—there were only three bullets left. Eric Bolton couldn’t help but give a wry smile. He had hoped to show off his skills in the Sui dynasty with this gun, but it seemed fate didn’t want him to be too powerful.

“Uncle, what’s that?”

Eric Bolton turned around and saw the boy standing behind him, curiously eyeing the gun in his hand.

“This is called a gun!”

“A gun? My father has a gun too, but it’s very long—much longer than this one.”

Eric Bolton smiled slightly. “This is a different kind of gun, not the same as your father’s.”

“Abigail, where’s your father?” Eric Bolton asked again.

The boy lowered his head sadly. “Father couldn’t pay the taxes, so he sent mother back to my grandfather’s house and sold me to a rich family. He said he was going to become emperor too, and left with his gun. It was grandfather who sold land to buy me back.”

“Abigail!” The old man called from the hut’s doorway.

“Uncle, I’m going back.” The boy dashed toward the hut.

“Abigail, never talk about your father’s matters again, not to anyone, understand?” The old man glanced at Eric Bolton from afar and quietly instructed his grandson.

“Abigail understands!”

Eric Bolton looked up at the night sky and laughed. If one day he was pushed to the brink, would he, like Abigail’s father, take up a gun and try to become emperor?

……

Eric Bolton was shaken awake from his sleep and found that it was already daylight. He quickly got up and saw the old man and his grandson standing beside him. The old man handed him a long blue robe, a little embarrassed. “Could we trade this for some food, sir?”

“You… are leaving?”

The old man nodded. “I originally came to find a clansman—he’s a hunter in this area. This hut is where he stayed at night, but it seems he’s gone too. I plan to take my grandson down the mountain and follow the main road to Xiangyang. I lived there for a few years when I was young. It’s not my hometown, but at least we can get something to eat.”

Eric Bolton put on the robe. It was a bit short and the fabric was coarse, but it was dry, and as soon as he wore it, he felt a wave of warmth.

Eric Bolton stuffed his bundle into the old man’s hands and smiled. “Take it all! I wish you a safe journey to Xiangyang.”

The old man and his grandson thanked him profusely and left. Eric Bolton stretched lazily. After a sweet night’s sleep, all his fatigue was gone, and the initial despair and frustration of falling into the late Sui dynasty had vanished without a trace. His determination not to fail returned to his heart.

He picked up the hatchet at his feet, let out a long howl to the sky, and strode down the mountain. Late Sui, here I come!

……

In the seventh month of the ninth year of the Daye era, Samuel Young led an army of over a hundred thousand in a fierce assault on Luoyang, but met with desperate resistance from the city’s soldiers and civilians. After months of bloody fighting, Luoyang still did not fall.