2:17 a.m.
The National New Energy Materials Research Center, seven floors underground.
A cold white shadowless lamp illuminated the laboratory.
Shen Zhiwei stood before the workbench, a precision pipette in hand, her gaze fixed on the vacuum reaction chamber operating at high speed in front of her.
Inside the enormous glass chamber, blue-white electric arcs flashed like darting snakes.
The data on the instrument's screen raced by.
Temperature: 1,837°C.
Pressure: 0.003 Pa.
Energy output efficiency: 91.7%.
"Stable."
Shen Zhiwei spoke in a low voice.
The researcher beside her immediately looked up.
"Dr. Shen, the energy field has entered the third stage. Should we stop the experiment?"
"No."
She glanced at the time.
"Wait another twenty seconds."
"But the core material's crystal lattice has already begun to behave abnormally—"
"I know."
Shen Zhiwei's tone remained calm.
"That's exactly the data we need."
She was twenty-six years old.
Yet she was already one of the youngest interdisciplinary scientific research leaders in the country.
Physics, chemistry, materials science, mechanical engineering, biology, energy science, and mathematics…
She had studied nearly every field related to scientific research.
Someone once joked that her brain contained a limitless database.
But Shen Zhiwei herself knew perfectly well that she was no omnipotent god.
She simply believed in one thing more than anyone else did—
Any problem that seemed impossible would have an answer, as long as the right method could be found.
"Ten seconds left."
She stared at the screen.
"Nine."
"Eight."
"Seven."
Everyone in the research room held their breath.
"Six."
"Five."
"Four."
Suddenly—
The alarm blared.
Harsh red warning lights instantly flooded the entire laboratory.
[WARNING! Energy field anomaly!]
[WARNING! Unknown high-energy reaction detected in the core region!]
"Dr. Shen!"
"Shut it down!"
"It's too late!"
BOOM—!
The deafening blast shattered the entire wall of glass.
Shen Zhiwei saw the world before her twist in an instant.
In that moment, there was no fear in her mind.
Instead, almost instinctively, she rapidly calculated countless possibilities.
Energy field collapse.
Abnormal spatial structure.
Vacuum chamber rupture.
Powerful electromagnetic pulse.
And one phenomenon she could not explain at all.
Time.
It seemed to have stretched.
She saw shards of glass suspended in midair.
She saw her colleagues' mouths hanging open.
She saw a blue-white electric arc, like a massive bolt of lightning, tear out from the center of the experimental equipment.
And then—
She saw a door.
A door that should not have existed inside the laboratory.
There was no wall behind it.
Only an expanse of pitch-black void.
Shen Zhiwei's pupils abruptly contracted.
"A spacetime rif—"
Before she could finish the last word, an enormous pull suddenly swallowed her whole.
It was as if an invisible hand had seized her, dragging her instantly into the darkness.
All that remained beside her ears were chaotic voices.
"Dr. Shen!"
"Shut off the main power!"
"Someone's hurt!"
"Get her out!"
The voices grew farther and farther away.
Fainter and more indistinct.
Until at last, everything fell silent.
No one knew how much time had passed.
Shen Zhiwei woke up.
The first thing she felt was cold.
Bone-deep cold.
Beneath her was not the laboratory's metal floor, but a hard wooden bed.
The strong smell of medicinal herbs lingered beneath her nose.
She opened her eyes.
The first thing she saw was an old blue-green bed curtain.
An oil lamp hung beside the headboard.
Its dim yellow flame swayed gently in the night breeze.
Shen Zhiwei stared at the lamp for a full ten seconds.
She said nothing.
She only slowly sat up.
The wooden bed gave a creak.
She lowered her head and looked at her hands.
They were slender and pale.
They did not resemble her original hands, which bore the fine scars left by years of experiments.
She threw back the covers.
An embroidered slipper rested beneath her feet.
A bronze mirror sat beside the bed.
Shen Zhiwei picked it up.
The mirror's surface was blurry, but it was still clear enough to reflect an unfamiliar, youthful face.
The girl looked about seventeen.
Her features were delicate and refined.
Her complexion was pale.
There wasn't a trace of color in her lips.
Shen Zhiwei fell silent.
She raised a hand and touched her face.
The person in the mirror raised her hand as well.
This was not a dream.
At least, it was not an ordinary dream.
She swiftly surveyed her surroundings.
A wooden table.
A wooden chair.
A celadon teacup.
An oil lamp.
Coarse paper.
A long dress in an ancient style hung on the wall.
There were no wires.
No outlets.
No modern equipment of any kind.
Shen Zhiwei reached out and touched the paper on the table.
It was coarse, its fibers clearly visible, with even some incompletely processed bits of plant matter still embedded in it.
She picked it up and brought it closer for a look.
There was no modern printing.
Only several crooked lines written with a calligraphy brush.
Her heart gradually sank.
Just then—
"Miss!"
The door suddenly flew open.
A girl of about fourteen or fifteen stumbled in carrying a medicine bowl.
When she saw Shen Zhiwei sitting on the bed, the girl's eyes instantly reddened.
"Miss, you're finally awake!"
"You scared this servant to death!"
Shen Zhiwei did not answer.
She only stared at the girl.
The girl froze under her gaze.
"Miss?"
"Where is this?"
"The Yongning Marquis's Residence, of course."
After answering, the girl suddenly looked confused.
"Miss, you remember this place, don't you?"
Shen Zhiwei did not reply.
She rapidly organized the information she had.
The Yongning Marquis's Residence.
Ancient clothing.
An oil lamp.
A calligraphy brush.
Coarse paper.
An unfamiliar girl.
And a body that was completely unfamiliar to her.
The answer was already obvious.
Transmigration.
The answer was so absurd that even a novel would hesitate to make it this outrageous—and yet it had truly happened to her.
Shen Zhiwei closed her eyes.
After a moment, she asked:
"What year is it?"
The girl froze.
"Miss, it's the seventeenth year of the Jinghe reign in Dayong."
Dayong.
She had never seen this dynasty mentioned in any historical records.
This was not familiar history.
It was an alternate world.
"Then who is the emperor?"
"His Majesty, of course."
"His name."
The girl answered cautiously:
"Xiao Jingyao."
Shen Zhiwei fell silent.
She was now fairly certain.
She had arrived in a completely unfamiliar ancient world.
And at least a thousand years separated it from the era in which she had originally lived.
She did not break down.
She did not cry.
One of the things scientists were best at was building models under unknown conditions.
Right now, she had merely encountered an unknown problem of absurd proportions.
First—
Confirm the conditions for survival.
Second—
Confirm her identity.
Third—
Confirm the era's technological level.
Fourth—
Find a way back.
She looked at the girl.
"What's your name?"
"This servant is called Qinghe."
"Who am I?"
The expression on Qinghe's face instantly turned strange.
"Miss, you're Shen Zhiwei, the legitimate eldest daughter of the Yongning Marquis's Residence."
Shen Zhiwei: "…"
Same name.
That was convenient, at least.
"How did the original owner die?"
Qinghe's hands trembled slightly around the medicine bowl.
"Miss…"
"Tell me."
The girl lowered her head.
"The estate physician said that Miss had been frail since childhood. A few days ago, you caught a cold, and today you suddenly fell unconscious and wouldn't wake up."
Shen Zhiwei held out her hand.
"Give me the medicine."
Qinghe hurriedly passed her the medicine bowl.
Shen Zhiwei did not drink it right away.
First she smelled it.
Then she examined its color.
Finally, she dipped a finger into the liquid and lightly touched it to the tip of her tongue.
The next second, her brows drew together almost imperceptibly.
"Who prescribed this?"
"The estate physician."
"There's aconite in it."
"Yes."
"The dosage is too high."
Qinghe was startled.
Shen Zhiwei looked at the medicine bowl again.
"And one of the other ingredients wasn't processed properly."
The properties of the medicinal herbs quickly surfaced in her mind.
This medicine was not necessarily fatal on its own.
But for someone as extremely weak as the original owner, taking it over an extended period could easily cause severe adverse reactions.
The owner of this body was probably not simply frail.
Shen Zhiwei set down the medicine bowl.
"From now on, don't let me take any medicine without my permission."
Qinghe stared at her.
"But, Miss, you always listened to Madam…"
"That was before."
Shen Zhiwei's voice was cool.
"Starting today, we'll do things my way."
Qinghe gazed at her.
For some reason, even though it was still the same face, the Miss before her seemed to have completely changed.
The old Shen Zhiwei had always been quiet and timid.
Even her voice had been as soft as the wind.
But the girl sitting on the bed now had a calm expression.
There was no fear in those eyes.
Instead, they held a composure that made people afraid to meet her gaze.
It was as if she were observing an entirely new experimental environment.
"Qinghe."
"This servant is here."
"I have a few questions for you."
"Please ask, Miss."
"Do you have coal here?"
Qinghe looked blank.
"Coal?"
"A black stone that can burn."
"Yes."
Shen Zhiwei's eyes brightened slightly.
"What about iron?"
"Of course we have iron."
"Copper?"
"Yes."
"Glass?"
Qinghe froze.
"Miss, do you mean colored glass?"
Shen Zhiwei was silent for two seconds.
"More or less."
"Then do we have a way to mass-produce transparent glass?"
"…This servant doesn't know."
"What about steam engines?"
The look Qinghe gave her gradually grew stranger.
Shen Zhiwei ignored it.
"Electricity?"
"Electricity?"
"Lightning."
"Of course."
"Artificial power generation."
Qinghe remained silent for a long while.
Finally, she said in a small voice:
"Miss, are you… really seriously ill?"
Shen Zhiwei: "…"
Very well.
She understood now.
This world's technological level was even more backward than she had estimated.
But precisely because of that, her advantage was almost impossible to measure.
She stood up.
Her body swayed slightly.
The original owner's body was truly too weak.
Shen Zhiwei braced herself against the corner of the table and lowered her head to look at her hands.
Then she suddenly smiled.
It was not excitement.
It was the instinctive battle spirit of a scientist facing a vast, unknown world.
A thousand years in the past.
No electricity.
No modern medicine.
No industrial system.
No modern education.
No mature scientific institutions.
So what?
She could start from zero.
Paper.
Glass.
Soap.
Cement.
Steel.
Machinery.
Steam.
Electricity.
Medicine.
Agriculture.
Transportation.
Communications.
None of these things were magic.
They all had principles behind them.
As long as there were materials.
As long as there was time.
As long as there were people willing to work alongside her.
They could be built up step by step.
Shen Zhiwei walked to the window.
She pushed it open.
The night wind rushed against her face.
In the distance, the capital lay immersed in darkness.
There were no neon signs.
No streetlights.
No streams of traffic.
Only scattered points of lamplight dispersed across the night.
As she gazed into that darkness, she became fully aware for the first time—
She really could not go back.
At least not now.
Behind her, Qinghe asked cautiously:
"Miss, what are you looking at?"
Shen Zhiwei was silent for a moment.
"The future."
Qinghe: "…"
She didn't understand.
But Shen Zhiwei smiled.
She reached out and caught a leaf that had drifted in through the window.
"Qinghe."
"This servant is here."
"Prepare some things for me tomorrow."
"What things?"
"Paper, charcoal, iron, copper, limestone, and sand."
The more Qinghe heard, the more confused she became.
"What does Miss need those for?"
Shen Zhiwei turned around.
Her eyes shone brilliantly in the dim yellow lamplight.
"Experiments."
"What kind of experiment?"
"Many kinds."
She paused.
"We'll start with the simplest."
Qinghe swallowed.
"What's the first one?"
Shen Zhiwei glanced down at the rough sheet of ancient paper on the table, so thin it was almost translucent.
The corners of her lips lifted slightly.
"Papermaking."
She had once stood at the pinnacle of modern scientific research.
Now, she would have to start over with a single sheet of paper.
This was not a step backward.
It was an opportunity to redefine civilization.
Shen Zhiwei knew that she could not rely on the knowledge in her mind forever.
True scientific research required experiments.
A true civilization required talent.
A true era could never be built by one person alone.
So her first step would not be to build a steam engine.
Nor would it be to establish a railroad.
It would be to let the people of this era know, for the first time—
That the world did not have to be passively accepted.
That the natural world could be studied, understood, and changed.
She raised her head and gazed into the distance.
Darkness blanketed the entire capital.
And in that long night, no one knew that a soul from a thousand years in the future had quietly arrived.
She would make paper white.
Make glass transparent.
Make steel roar.
Make steam drive wheels.
Make electric current illuminate the long night.
Make medicine save countless lives.
Bring knowledge into every city, every school, and every ordinary person's home.
And make a dynasty that had remained rooted in an agrarian civilization embark ahead of time on its own Industrial Revolution.
But at this moment, Shen Zhiwei did not yet know.
On this road to rewriting civilization, she would meet a man.
That man would become her most powerful ally.
He would also become the only love of her life.
And a thousand years later—
He would still remember her.
He would remember the woman who, on Dayong's first night, stood before a window gazing into the darkness and said to an unfamiliar world:
"Then we'll start with the first sheet of paper."
Shen Zhiwei blew out the oil lamp.
Darkness instantly swallowed the room.
But she knew.
Dawn was already on its way.
And the new civilization belonging to this era would begin tonight.