The whole night, Zhen Yi barely slept. Every time he closed his eyes, the same flashing image from the street returned—the tall man in ancient armor, the cold wind, the clashing sounds, and the voice calling out a name he had never heard until yesterday. General Yan Zhen. The vision had felt too real, like he was standing there himself, watching the scene through someone else's eyes. He tossed and turned under his blanket for hours. Even when he tried to force himself to sleep, the strange heaviness inside his chest wouldn't let him. His eyes burned from exhaustion, but his thoughts were louder than his need to rest.
When morning came, the sunlight slipping through the curtains felt unkindly bright. Zhen Yi dragged himself out of bed with a yawn so long it ached. His face felt puffy, and his head was heavy the way it usually felt after crying—except he hadn't cried. Just thought. A lot. Way too much.
He changed into his uniform and walked downstairs. His mother immediately abandoned the vegetables she was chopping when she saw him. She stepped forward and placed her hand on his forehead.
"You look like you barely slept, my baby," she said, her voice full of worry, warm and soft in the way only a mother's voice could be. Her eyes scanned his face, noticing the slight swelling under his eyes and the dullness in his expression.
Zhen Yi forced a smile. "Nothing, Mom. Just stressed because of the upcoming exams. I was thinking about it a lot."
She didn't seem convinced, but she didn't push him into saying more. Instead, she reached into the kitchen drawer and handed him a few tablets. "If you say so… keep these with you. If you feel unwell in school, take one."
Zhen Yi nodded obediently and slipped the tablets into his pocket. He sat at the small wooden table, eating his breakfast quietly. His grandfather walked past humming an old tune, but even that didn't lift Zhen Yi's tired mood. The visions clung to him like a shadow.
After finishing breakfast, he walked toward school. Hong Kong was already buzzing with its usual morning life—street vendors boiling noodles for breakfast customers, buses honking as if racing each other, people hurrying toward work with coffee in hand, and students in uniforms crowding the sidewalks. Normally, this liveliness comforted him, but today everything felt slightly distant, as if he were watching it all through a thin glass.
When he reached the school gate, he spotted Chen Ming and Li Qiyue waiting for him. They were arguing about something, as usual, with Chen Ming waving his arms dramatically while Li Qiyue rolled her eyes exaggeratedly.
"Hey, guys!" Zhen Yi approached them and raised his hand weakly.
Both of them froze for half a second when they saw him.
"You look like a panda," Chen Ming said immediately, laughing and poking under Zhen Yi's eye.
"Did you read till 3 AM or something?" Li Qiyue teased, hands on her hips.
Zhen Yi sighed and rubbed his face. "Let's go inside class first… then I'll tell you what's going on."
The three of them walked into class and went straight to the quiet corner where no one usually disturbed them. A few students were chatting loudly, others rushing to finish homework before the teacher arrived. But their little corner always felt like their own world.
Zhen Yi leaned closer, lowering his voice. "Actually… I've been getting visions."
Li Qiyue blinked. "Visions? Like… you imagine things you read?"
"No," he insisted. "These aren't from any book. These are… different."
Chen Ming narrowed his eyes, suddenly interested. "What kind of visions?"
Zhen Yi took a deep breath. "Yesterday, when I felt dizzy on the street… I saw something. It wasn't a dream. It wasn't imagination. A tall man in ancient Chinese armor was fighting on a battlefield. It looked like a real war. And then… someone shouted, 'General Yan Zhen!' right before you two tapped my shoulder."
Both friends stared at him with wide eyes.
"So you're telling me you saw something you never read before?" Li Qiyue asked, eyebrows raised.
Zhen Yi nodded.
Chen Ming let out a sigh and patted his back. "Bro… maybe you're overthinking? Stress does this. Imagination mixes with random thoughts. Don't stress yourself more."
Zhen Yi smiled weakly, though deep down he knew it wasn't imagination. There was a weight in his chest he couldn't explain. The vision wasn't blurry like a dream. It was sharp. Too sharp.
The rest of the school day passed slowly. Classes felt longer than usual, and Zhen Yi's mind kept drifting back to the battlefield vision. He couldn't focus properly. Even during recess, while students chatted loudly around him, he kept replaying the voice calling "General Yan Zhen" in his mind. The name felt strangely familiar, like a word he had forgotten long ago.
By evening, he and Chen Ming were sitting on the playground bench, watching middle-schoolers playing basketball. The sun was warm, the wind soft, and for a moment, Zhen Yi felt a little calmer.
Then he heard hurried footsteps.
Li Qiyue ran toward them, carrying a thick book.
"Zhen Yi!" she called breathlessly. "Look what I got! Our librarian gave this to me and said it's amazing. Wanna read it?"
Zhen Yi blinked. Books were always his weakness. No matter what mood he was in, he could never ignore a new book.
He took it from her and almost dropped it from the weight. "Wow… this is heavy."
He looked at the cover. The title was written in gold letters, elegant and ancient-looking:
"The Rise and Fall of the Xia Dynasty."
Chen Ming tilted his head. "Xia Dynasty? Never heard of it."
"I have!" Li Qiyue said proudly and immediately launched into her mini lecture. She explained the basic history she remembered—how it was an old dynasty that had mysterious records, missing scrolls, and many unanswered questions.
"You'll like it, Zhen Yi. Since you've already read all your books. This one is supposed to be special."
Zhen Yi smiled gratefully. "Thanks. I'll read it tonight."
He didn't know the book was waiting for him.
That night, after dinner, Zhen Yi sat at his desk. His room was quiet except for the soft hum of the electric fan. He took a deep breath and opened the book.
It began with the dynasty's early rise, describing how the Xia Dynasty prospered and became one of the strongest powers of its era. But the real story started a few pages later.
It introduced Emperor Xia Jinhai, known throughout the old world as "The Radiant Sovereign." The book described him as a wise and fair ruler, someone who rose to power not through fear but through his brilliance and compassion. He was respected by nobles, loved by citizens, and feared by foreign kingdoms. His reforms strengthened agriculture, expanded markets, and encouraged scholars to innovate. Under his rule, the empire enjoyed peace, beauty, and prosperity.
But peace never survives forever.
The northern borders grew restless as a powerful enemy gathered strength. Rumors spread of an impending invasion. And during this time, the emperor met a young warrior who changed the fate of the entire dynasty.
General Yan Zhen.
The book described him as a man of sharp eyes, strong build, and a moral compass so strict that even nobles feared crossing him. He came from a once-noble family that had fallen from glory, but he climbed the military ranks through talent alone. He was undefeated in battles, admired by soldiers, and trusted by the emperor.
The emperor and the general formed a bond that shaped the era. The book described it as "a unity of wisdom and strength," as if they shared the same heartbeat when protecting the empire.
When the northern rebellion finally attacked, the Xia army was prepared—but the enemy was stronger than expected. Yan Zhen led the army with unmatched strategy, and for months, the war dragged on. The harsh weather, the frozen lands, the endless battles—it all took a toll.
Then came the final battle.
Yan Zhen was severely injured. The book didn't describe the details, but it emphasized that he didn't fall. His determination pushed the soldiers to fight harder. His leadership, even while wounded, turned the tide.
But the next part of the book felt strange.
One paragraph said General Yan Zhen passed away in the healing room on a peaceful night.
And a year later, the ministers found out that the emperor poisoned his food and Yan Zhen died.
He had a massive downfall, people who uttered his name like a chant were disgusted to even speak of his name, he was humiliated and sent to prison.
The next page said Emperor Xia Jinhai died in the prison he was in.
Zhen Yi frowned deeply.
Why did it feel wrong?,he thought to himself.
He flipped the page again. The tone of the book changed. There were notes from historians saying:
Some believe the official records were altered.
Some believe their deaths were connected.
But the truth… has been lost.
Zhen Yi stared at the page for a long time.
His fingers trembled slightly.
His heart beat too fast.
The missing pieces in the book felt like hollow spaces in his own mind. The story felt familiar in a way it shouldn't. The emperor's name, the general's face, the battlefield… everything tugged at him from the inside.
He closed the book slowly.
The fan hummed softly.
The city lights flickered outside.
His room felt too quiet.
"Why… does all this feel connected to me?" he whispered, pressing a hand to his forehead.
He tried to calm himself, but the more he tried, the louder his heartbeat seemed.
A strange drifting sensation washed over him, like a thin thread connecting him to something far away—something ancient, something waiting.