Ethan Clarke had a dream—one where he jumped into a lake without hesitation to rescue a drowning girl.

Problem was, she couldn’t swim, and in her panic, she elbowed him square in the nose. Stars exploded behind his eyes. Not exactly a master swimmer himself, Ethan immediately forgot how to paddle.

As he sank, one thought flashed through his mind:

Women are terrifying.

Then came the cold, the darkness, the suffocating pressure.

Just when it felt like everything was fading, a strange warmth surged through his body. It flowed inside him, sweeping away the bone-deep chill, like sinking into a mother's embrace. He relaxed and drifted off again.

No idea how much time passed before he finally opened his eyes.

What a long dream. His head throbbed. If that had been real—dying like that, elbowed into the depths while trying to save a girl—he’d be the ghost story demons laughed at in the afterlife. Probably have to beg Lady Meng for an extra-strong bowl of Memory Soup at the Bridge of Forgetfulness.

“You’re awake!” chirped a sweet, soft voice.

Turning his head, Ethan blinked.

An impossibly cute little girl stood at his bedside, maybe eight or nine. Long black hair rested on her shoulders. She wore an old-style outfit, something kind of like ancient dramas but not quite the same.

Her big eyes sparkled with relief. When she smiled, it was pure sunshine, and Ethan couldn’t help but freeze, heart melting a little.

"Little girl, you are...?" He combed through his memory. Nope, definitely didn’t know her.

A girl this adorable? Unforgettable. Not even Lady Meng's soup could wash that memory away.

"My name's Chloe Whitman, but you can just call me Chloe! What's your name?"

“Nice to meet you, Chloe. I’m Ethan Clarke.”

Her presence dispelled any wariness he might’ve had. He forced a smile, trying to look friendly.

Not easy though—his head throbbed like it was ready to split open.

He reached up to touch his forehead—cool, thank the heavens. Breathing in slow, he took in his surroundings.

Definitely not a hospital.

The room was straight out of a period drama—wooden bed, tea table, a writing desk. A faint scent floated from a bronze incense burner, sharp and clean, clearing the mind. A landscape painting hung on the wall—like classical brushwork but just real enough to feel almost alive.

The oddest thing was the light overhead. Not a candle. Not oil. Not modern, either.

A white porcelain basin hung from the ceiling, and nestled in the middle of it was a glowing stone, about the size of a palm. The room glowed, bright but not harsh.

“How do you feel?” Chloe blinked up at him, voice laced with worry. “Any pain?”

If I had a daughter like her someday, I’d be the luckiest man alive.

Sitting up, Ethan rolled his neck, twisted his waist, stretched his limbs. Apart from the pounding headache, everything else felt normal.

“I’m fine,” he said gently. “Chloe, where are we? And… how did I end up here?”"This is Floating Blossom Palace. I brought you back here," Chloe said proudly.

“What?” Ethan Clarke blinked, still dazed.

“I found you by the back mountain, thought you were dead. My senior sister helped me carry you back. We asked Master to heal you with inner power,” she explained, puffing up a little.

Floating Blossom Palace? Master? Inner power healing?

What kind of cheesy martial arts drama did he stumble into?

Was he even awake?

Or had he really time-traveled?

His mind was a mess. Ethan clutched his head, overwhelmed, and mumbled something even he thought sounded ridiculous: “What dynasty is this?”

“Dynasty? Oh, you mean the reign title? It’s Year 296 of Xingling...”

Her voice faded in and out, like it was coming from miles away. He couldn’t concentrate. Her words became a distant buzz.

“Ahhh!”

The headache flared hard. Ethan cried out—and blacked out again.

“Ethan! Ethan!” He thought he heard Chloe’s panicked voice calling him.

Next time he came to, it was day. The stone-like “lamp” in the room no longer glowed. Sunlight streamed through the window paper; birds chirped outside.

His head finally felt clear. Light and rested, he sat up and stretched wide.

Curled up beside his bed was Chloe, the little girl fast asleep. Her face puffed out adorably as she breathed, like a chubby squirrel. His fingers twitched with the urge to pinch that soft cheek.

Not wanting to wake her, Ethan quietly slipped out of bed, tiptoed to the door, and eased it open. A blast of sunlight hit him, forcing him to squint.

“Huh? What's that?”

In that squinting moment, a massive bookshelf appeared before his eyes.

Seven stories high, stretching wide till no end. Grand and imposing.

Below it, a solid panel about waist-high bore five golden, glowing characters:

New! Hua! Scripture! Library! Pavilion!

That mix of ancient and modern... who the hell came up with that name?

Ethan’s brow twitched, but deep in his heart, he had this strange feeling—

He looked out. The doorway led straight into a spacious courtyard surrounded by traditional-style buildings. The main gate stood open. Beyond it, lush green trees shifted gently in the breeze, all cloaked in a thin mist that gave the place a fairyland air.

He took a deep breath. The air smelled fresh, crisp—tinged with something more. Energy? It made his thoughts clearer, sharper.

“You're awake!” came a cheerful voice from behind.

“Chloe, you were with me all night?” Ethan turned around. Seeing her beaming face, his heart softened.

“Mhm! You just collapsed yesterday. Master wasn’t around and I got so scared.” She nodded, patting her chest with a small shiver. “Thank goodness Senior Claire fed you a Little Restoration Pill.”

"Thanks," Ethan murmured, warmth bubbling in his chest. He reached out and gently tousled her hair.

Chloe squinted her eyes, like a sleepy kitten loving the attention.“Chloe, ever since I woke up, my mind’s all hazy. I only remember my name—Ethan Clarke. Nothing else. Think you could tell me more about this place? Maybe it’ll jog my memory,” Ethan said, spinning a lie with a calm face.

“Sure! You’re in the southern border of the Dagan Empire. This place used to be an ancient ruin discovered by our grandmaster. He found the spiritual energy here strong, so he settled down and created the ‘Floating Blossom Palace.’ My master is the current leader…” The little girl went on and on, clearly enjoying the chance to talk.

Ethan chimed in every now and then, gently steering her rambling. In less than half an hour, he’d pieced together most of what he needed to know.

He was certain—this wasn’t a dream. He’d really crossed over.

That drowning dream… wasn’t just a dream. He really had died. Knocked into the lake by the girl he tried to save, and here he was—thanks to her elbow.

The way he died last time… Ethan felt the urge to throw himself into another lake.

What a joke.

“Did that help jog your memory?” Chloe asked when Ethan spaced out, assuming he was deep in thought.

“Eh… kind of? Still fuzzy though.” Ethan shook himself out of his thoughts and stuck with the lie. “Do you have any books? Maybe something about the Dagan Empire, its writing or history? They might help.”

“There aren’t many like that in the library, just stuff about techniques, medicines, and some novels. But Mrs. Bennett sends old copies of the ‘Dagan Bulletin’ to my master sometimes. I’ll go get a few for you!” Chloe said, already dashing out of the room.

Such a helpful kid.

Ethan couldn’t help feeling bad for lying to her, but he had no choice.

From what she told him, this world wasn’t any known part of history—it had a distinct feel of old-school martial fantasy. His old world’s scattered knowledge was pretty useless now. Powerless and ignorant, he needed to get up to speed fast if he wanted to survive here.

He’d died too unjustly last time to let it happen again.

No phones, no Wi-Fi. Ethan began pacing around the quiet room. Somehow, he ended up in front of a mirror.

“Is… is that me?”

He stared, stunned, at the youthful face reflected back—about seventeen or eighteen, softer features, but sharp eyes.

He raised his hand to his cheek. The boy in the mirror mirrored him exactly.

Back when life wore him down, Ethan would often wish he could go back to being eighteen. Now, after death, that foolish fantasy had actually come true.

He stared at the boyish face, more and more pleased. Looked way better than those soft-faced heartthrobs on the screen back in his old world.

“Ethan! Ethan!” Chloe bounded back in, beaming as she waved a stack of papers in her hands.

They were the so-called “Dagan Bullets”—official sheets, smaller than an A3 page, printed on both sides.

“Thanks, Chloe,” Ethan smiled and took them.

But the smile didn’t last.

What the hell?! He couldn’t read a single word.

People usually cross over with encyclopedic knowledge. Me? I end up completely illiterate.

No strength, no literacy... Ethan nearly burst into tears.

“You okay? You don’t look so good. Still not feeling well? Want to lie down some more?” Chloe asked, her voice full of concern.

“I… I don’t think I can read anymore,” Ethan said awkwardly, playing the memory loss card again.The little girl glanced over, eyes full of sympathy. Her master had said while treating Ethan Clarke’s injuries that he had no spiritual energy—just a plain mortal. Now he couldn’t even read. Living on in this world would be tough.

“Maybe... I can teach you how to read?” Chloe Whitman offered hesitantly.

She was still young and more into play than studies herself, so her offer lacked confidence.

“I’ll be counting on you then, Teacher Chloe,” Ethan said after a brief pause. He figured he might as well learn—the chances of getting back to his original world were slim anyway.

The moment he called her “Teacher Chloe,” the girl’s eyes lit up. She puffed up her flat chest and declared loudly, “Leave it to me! From now on, you’re my student. Got a problem? Come to me. I’ve got your back!”

Watching her act all grown-up, Ethan couldn’t help but reach out and ruffle her hair again.

Just then, soft footsteps echoed at the door.

“You’re awake.”

Ethan turned. Standing at the threshold was a girl of sixteen or seventeen, beautiful and poised, her voice cool and distant, like a breeze in a quiet valley. She wore a loose white robe that couldn’t quite hide her graceful curves.

In his past life, thanks to makeup and filters, genuine, natural beauty like this had become rare. Ethan was momentarily stunned.

“Claire!” Chloe rushed over, tugging at the girl’s sleeve. “This is Ethan Clarke. Yesterday when he fainted, you were the one who fed him the Minor Restoration Pill.”

“I’m Ethan Clarke. Thank you for saving my life with the pill,” he said, eyes lingering on the girl, the longer he looked, the more pleasant on the eye she became.

“No need to thank me. I only gave in because Chloe wouldn’t stop pestering me. If anyone deserves thanks, it’s her,” Claire Marshall replied, her tone distant. “And keep this in mind—Floating Blossom Palace doesn’t host male guests. Once you’ve recovered, you should leave the mountain.”

Cold as ice, huh... Ethan mused. Exactly the frosty goddess type.

Still, he was already thinking of how to stay a while longer. It wasn’t about the beauty—being tossed into a strange world with no backstory, no strength, and no clue... heading out now would be a death sentence.

“But, Claire! Ethan’s badly hurt, he can’t remember anything, doesn’t even know how to read! He’s not a cultivator either—how’s he supposed to live if you kick him out now?” Chloe said anxiously, not wanting her newfound student to be thrown away so soon.

Ethan felt truly helpless—powerless, clueless, completely useless.

“Chloe, this place is full of women. Keeping an unknown man here could cause gossip,” Claire said, frowning slightly.

“But I already promised to teach him how to read!” Chloe tugged on Claire’s robe persistently. “Let him stay till then, okay?”

“My word isn’t enough. Our master won’t agree.”

Claire clearly had a soft spot for the girl—her tone was already loosening.

“I’ll beg Master when she returns! She’s really kind. She won’t let Ethan starve alone on the mountain,” Chloe pleaded.

“Do as you like.” Claire finally relented. “It’s up to Master now.”

“You’re the best, Claire!” Chloe leapt with joy, hugging Claire tightly around the waist."You..." Claire Marshall's cool voice held a hint of helplessness. She glanced at Ethan Clarke. "Mister Clarke, just stay here for a few days. Once Master returns, she’ll decide what to do. There are only women in Plume Palace, so please behave. Don’t give anyone a reason to talk."

"Thank you, Miss Claire." Ethan finally felt himself breathe again. "And thanks to Teacher Chloe, too."

"Aww, don't mention it!" Chloe Whitman beamed. Being called “teacher” by someone much older than her clearly made her feel proud. She waved her little hands in delight. "Teachers should take care of students, it's only right!"

"I'm off now. Chloe, even with Master gone, don’t slack off on morning and evening lessons." Claire gave a lukewarm reminder before turning and leaving without another word.

"I’ll go get your study materials!" the little girl called, hopping out of the room with giddy steps.

Watching her bounce off, Ethan let out a long breath. He owed this little girl too much. He had no idea if he’d ever be able to repay her.

He shut his eyes and turned his thoughts inward, focusing on the strange “Xinhua Scripture Vault” in his mind.

Looking closely, he saw the shelf columns were clearly organized into categories: “Cultivation Methods,” “Spiritual Techniques,” “Runes,” “Herbology,” “Spiritual Tools,” and so on. Horizontally, it had seven ranks from bottom to top: “Bronze Grade,” “Silver Grade,” “Gold Grade,” “Platinum Grade,” “Diamond Grade,” “Star Soul Grade,” and “Holy Spirit Grade.”

Which game nut came up with this nonsense?

Ethan stared at the labels, completely speechless.

After searching the whole shelf, he only found a “Xinhua Dictionary” under “Utilities,” and the four Chinese classics — *Romance of the Three Kingdoms*, *Journey to the West*, *Water Margin*, and *Dream of the Red Chamber* — piled under “Miscellaneous Studies.” There was also a heap of self-help books.

Everything else? Empty.

Isn't this just... the bookshelf from my old home?

He focused on *Journey to the West*, and lines of text began to pour into his mind.

“Chapter One: Origin of the Spiritual Root, Awakening to the Dao.

A poem:

‘Before Heaven and Earth split apart, chaos reigned unceasing;

No beings in the vast mist to witness dimming and gleaming...’”

The words flowed through Ethan's head like a torrent. In just a blink, it felt like he had reread the whole thing cover to cover. Every word vivid, every line etched deep.

He waited.

Nothing happened.

Other than being a good time-killer, it all felt... kind of worthless.

Ethan sank into disappointment. He’d hoped for something like a god-tier cheat. What he got was a bookshelf copy-pasted from his old life.

"I'm back!" Chloe’s excited voice rang out as she skipped into the room, holding two thread-bound books. "Class begins! Call me Professor Chloe!"

"Student bows to Professor Chloe!" Ethan laughed at the adorable sight before him.

Maybe...

Maybe it was time to let this world taste a bit of Chinese culture.

His eyes narrowed, an idea forming in his head.