Chapter 1: Has the Crown Prince Gone Mad?

Great Xia Dynasty.

Mangdang Mountain, Hall of a Hundred Beasts.

Chen Mu slowly opened his eyes in a daze, instinctively surveying his surroundings.

A group of strangers stood around him.

The one in the lead wore imperial robes and a crown of state.

His face was stern, yet there was a trace of gentleness and concern between his brows.

The others stood behind him, some kneeling, others bowing low, not daring to raise their heads.

Chen Mu observed their attire—it was unmistakably that of ancient people.

“My son, don’t force yourself next time if you’re unwell.”

Chen Xingtian, dressed in dragon robes, sat by the bedside, his tone gentle as he reached out to caress Chen Mu’s cheek.

Chen Mu pushed him away forcefully, rebuking, “Get lost! Who do you think you are, acting like my father? If anything, you’re my son!”

A gasp swept through the room.

Everyone present stared in disbelief at Chen Mu.

The imperial guards outside the hall burst in, swords drawn, standing at the ready.

The atmosphere inside the hall turned tense and oppressive in an instant because of that single outburst.

“Your Highness, during the autumn hunt this morning, you fainted after your horse was startled and you fell. Don’t you remember?”

“All this time, His Majesty has remained by your side, deeply worried about your safety.”

The old eunuch beside Chen Xingtian quickly stepped forward to smooth things over.

Crown Prince?

His Majesty?

Chen Mu’s heart skipped a beat as he re-examined everyone in the hall.

These were not simply ancient costumes.

From their dress, the hierarchy was clear and rigid.

“What era is this?”

“The 33rd year of the Zhen Guan reign, Xia Dynasty.”

“So I really have traveled through time,” Chen Mu muttered in disbelief.

He had once been a doctoral student in science and engineering, with a minor in history at university.

One night, while staying up late to write his thesis, he dozed off for just a moment.

In a blink, he’d found himself in another world.

Yet, there had never been a Xia Dynasty recorded in all of China’s history.

This was beyond bizarre.

Chen Xingtian coughed, signaling the guards to withdraw, and tapped his temple meaningfully.

Everyone in the hall nodded in agreement.

It seemed Chen Mu had hit his head in the fall and hadn’t fully recovered his senses.

Otherwise, who but a madman would dare utter such nonsense to the emperor himself?

“Since I’m the crown prince, does that mean I can have many wives?” Chen Mu asked the question that most concerned him after transmigrating.

When in Rome, do as the Romans do.

Life on Blue Star had been good, but what could compare to being a crown prince?

Second only to the emperor, with the prospect of ascending the throne and a harem of beauties in the future.

“You can…” Chen Xingtian pursed his lips and shook his head.

The imperial physician had said the internal injuries were grave and likely untreatable.

Now, though he had miraculously survived, his mind seemed impaired.

Otherwise, how could a young man, not yet of age, utter such preposterous things in public?

At that moment, a general in armor entered.

With a thud, the general knelt on one knee and spoke with head bowed: “Your Majesty, this subordinate has recovered the blood-sweating steed that injured the crown prince. How shall it be dealt with?”

“Kill it,” Chen Xingtian said without hesitation.

The blood-sweating steed was the noblest of horses.

A purebred was worth its weight in gold.

This particular horse had been a coming-of-age gift for Chen Mu.

But a vicious horse that harmed its master could not be kept.

“Don’t be so hasty—let me see it first,” Chen Mu quickly interjected.

Chen Mu stepped out of the hall and saw the blood-sweating steed confined in a cage.

Unlike ordinary horses, it was far taller than a man, with powerful muscles and a coat of red hair—magnificent and imposing.

“It’s a fine horse, but why does it have neither saddle nor stirrups?” Chen Mu asked in surprise.

“Your Highness, what are these things you call saddle and stirrups?” the general replied, perplexed.

This general’s name was Zhao Lai, a founding hero of the Great Xia.

He had campaigned far and wide, undefeated, now sixty years of age.

Even he had never heard of such things, and the others, naturally, knew even less.

“Impossible, surely not…” Chen Mu’s eyes widened in disbelief.

If the Xia Dynasty lacked even basic saddles and stirrups, then how could there be cannons or muskets?

This was primitive beyond belief.

With his background as a science and engineering doctoral student, even the simplest inventions could change the course of history here.

Chen Xingtian coughed again, tapping his temple.

Everyone understood—Chen Mu’s mind was clearly not right, speaking nonsense once more.

“Bring me paper and brush!” Chen Mu commanded.

After a moment, several eunuchs carried a writing desk to the front of the hall, along with bamboo slips, inkstone, and brush.

“No paper?” Chen Mu asked, exasperated.

“Your Highness, what is paper?” the eunuch replied, baffled.

Chen Mu was speechless, so he tore a piece of white cloth from his own clothes and spread it on the desk.

He had never practiced calligraphy before, so his drawing was crooked, more like a child’s scribble.

Yet under the astonished gazes of those present, one could barely discern the outline of a horse.

“The saddle and stirrups are fixed on either side of the horse’s back. They allow a rider to use the strength of both legs, improving balance and control, increasing the unity between horse and rider.”

As Chen Mu drew, he explained to the assembled crowd.

Most present could not make sense of it—only Chen Xingtian and Zhao Lai grasped the concept.

The more they looked, the more incredulous they became.

Until now, cavalrymen relied on a simple rope and their thighs to cling to the horse’s back.

A moment’s distraction, weakened legs, or a startled horse could send them flying.

With these two inventions, soldiers would have much greater control and security on horseback.

They exchanged glances, each seeing the shock in the other’s eyes.

If these could be produced in quantity, cavalry effectiveness would increase by leaps and bounds.

Though most onlookers couldn’t fathom the ingenuity, they could read the expressions of Chen Xingtian and Zhao Lai, and their regard for Chen Mu shifted.

A sense of awe—though they didn’t understand, they felt the magnitude.

“Your Highness, this design has truly opened my eyes,” Zhao Lai declared, deeply impressed.

Chen Xingtian, too, gazed at Chen Mu in amazement. “Such an invention is destined to leave a profound mark on the history of Great Xia!”

Chen Mu smiled as he handed over the drawing.

If something as simple as a saddle and stirrups amazed them so, what would happen when he devised firearms and cannons?

“Brother! Brother!”

At that moment, a young woman in diaphanous robes hurried over, followed by a crowd of palace maids and guards.

“Second Princess.”

“Second Princess.”

The people around bowed in salute.

Chen Mu narrowed his eyes, studying her closely.

Before he could recall any memories of her, she threw her arms around him in a tight embrace.

Her robe was sheer and light—he could feel the warmth of her body, the softness and smoothness of her skin, and, as her budding curves pressed against him, Chen Mu’s heart began to race.