Tianyuan Continent, Liang State, Zhongzhou, General Mansion.
When Ci Song woke up, he found that he was in a luxurious room. The decoration style here was that of ancient times.
The classical decoration, the carved window lattice, the mahogany bed, the simple desk, and the famous calligraphy and paintings hanging on the wall all exude an elegant and simple atmosphere.
Ci Song murmured in his heart, what on earth is this place? He remembered that he was clearly reciting Tang poetry and Song lyrics in his dormitory. He had already signed up to participate in the annual National Poetry Conference, and he had been preparing for this for nearly half a year.
As a student majoring in Chinese language at Wuhan University, Ci Song has been fond of poetry since he was a child, and he likes the deep emotions and vast world contained in poems and songs.
He always dreamed of traveling back in time to ancient times, seeing those heroes, celebrities and poets with his own eyes, and taking a look at the world they wrote about.
And Ci Song is a little bit unclear now. He just took a brief nap, why did he wake up and appear in this place?
While he was still wandering in surprise and confusion, suddenly a middle-aged man walked in.
He was wearing an exquisite blue robe, holding an ancient writing brush in his hand, with a delicate face and a sense of calmness and majesty in his eyes.
Is this the appearance of an ancient person who doesn’t look like a real person?
Ci Song sat up in a panic and saw a hint of displeasure on the middle-aged man's face. Although he was confused, he did not show it and asked:
"Hello, uncle, why am I here?"
After hearing Ci Song's inquiry, the middle-aged man looked angry. He held the brush in his hand and tapped Ci Song's head a few times, looking very angry.
"You brat, could it be that your soul has been seduced by that brothel singer, and you don't even recognize your biological father?"
"Ah? Father...Father?"
Ci Song murmured in his heart, are you kidding me? He doesn’t know what his own father looks like?
But from the tone of this uncle's words, it didn't sound like he was lying.
Could it be that he traveled to ancient times?
Looking at Ci Song's confused look, the middle-aged man also felt a headache. Could this bastard really have his soul taken away? How could he not even know his father?
He sighed helplessly, put the brush on the desk, and said: "That's all, Ci Song, if you like these worldly things, your father can't stop you, but there is no successor to this huge general's mansion. Maybe I committed a heavy crime, and Confucius punished me. Several children died young, and you were the only one left to live to the age of twelve, but I didn't expect that you have no talent at all for literature. That's all."
The middle-aged man took a deep look at Ci Song, sighed again, patted Ci Song on the shoulder gently, and said: "I only hope that you can leave a descendant for my Ci family, and that you can continue to be a father for a few more years." In ten years, when the time comes, just let the father guide his grandson."
In this way, Ci Song watched the middle-aged man leave the room, and he also extracted a lot of information from these few sentences.
First, I did travel through time, into the body of a person with the same name in ancient times. The reason for the time travel is unknown.
Second, the man I traveled through time was twelve years old, with a noble status. He should be the only son of the General's Mansion. From the tone of his voice, he should be an out-and-out second-generation ancestor, a playboy.
Third, he is an only child. All his previous brothers and sisters died young. Only he is alive now, and this new general father loves him very much. This is the most important thing.
As the son of a dignified general, he actually allowed his son to pursue pleasure, and even allowed him to hang out in the land of fireworks and brothels, which was enough to show his doting on this only bloodline.
However, Ci Song didn't quite understand one thing. In his perception, shouldn't the so-called generals look like tall, mighty, bearded, burly, rough men?
Although Ci Song also understood that this was his stereotype, the general's body should at least be stronger and stronger, right?
But this father was not only handsome, handsome, and gentle, he looked like a scholar from a scholarly family, with an indescribable charm in every move he made.
If he hadn't been familiar with history since he was a child and knew that this kind of appearance was most likely the style of ancient literary giants, he would have doubted whether he was in an acting troupe.
How does such a person go into battle to kill the enemy? How can one command the three armies and become a general?
However, these doubts flashed through Ci Song's mind. What he wanted to understand most now was, which era had he traveled to?
What his father said just now did not give any relevant background information. Those words just now were his limit.
Although he traveled through time, he did not inherit the original memory of this body. He could only explore everything by himself.
Now we can only take one step at a time.
When Ci Song was thinking about what he should do next, two maids suddenly walked in carrying toiletries. "Master, it's time to get up."
When the two maids saw Ci Song, they bowed slightly and put the toiletries directly on the wooden shelf beside them.
Judging from the behavior and conversation of the two maids, it was obvious that they had been carefully trained, and there was a trace of fear in their respectful expressions. Ci Song even saw one of the maids' hands trembling slightly. She looked very afraid of him.
Ci Song thought that he might be able to ask something from the two girls, so he asked the two maids: "You two girls, what year is this?"
The two maids were stunned by Ci Song's sudden question. They froze in place and did not move for a long time. Ci Song could even hear the breathing of the two women.
"Ahem, is this question difficult?" Ci Song asked with some confusion.
As he spoke, he frowned as usual to express confusion.
But when the two girls saw Ci Song's frowning expression, they knelt down and cried loudly.
"Master, we were wrong. Our sins are unforgivable. Please spare our lives."
"ah?"
Ci Song was completely stunned. He seemed to have done nothing. Why were these two little girls crying and shouting for mercy?
"No, why are you crying if I don't ask you what year it is today?"
"Master, this year is the eleventh year of Wanyong." The two maids replied while kowtowing and begging for mercy.
"What? Wan Yong? Which era is this title?"
Ci Song was dumbfounded. How come he had never heard of this era name? He knew everything about the emperors and their reigns, but what the hell was this Wanyongnian? Eternal prosperity? ,
. . . . .
