Chapter One: Liu Yao Reborn

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Year 2014, on a certain day at a certain hour.

“Welcome to the XX News Report. Last night at dusk, the world witnessed the rare celestial phenomenon of the Nine Stars Aligning—a spectacle that occurs once in a millennium. Historical records indicate the last occurrence was in the year 170 AD, making it 1,844 years since then. The entire population of the Eastern Hemisphere bore witness to this extraordinary event...”

“Now, for our next news story. The youngest renowned archaeologist and historian in our country, Liu Yao, tragically lost his life yesterday evening while conducting research in an Eastern Han Dynasty tomb in XX Province. He was struck by a falling rock while attempting to save an ancient manuscript, and died on the spot at the age of twenty-seven. Liu Yao was born in...”

In the year 170 AD, deep in a towering mountain that seemed to pierce the clouds, a Daoist priest with an immortal aura—childlike face, hair white as a crane's, and a dark birthmark at the corner of his eye—suddenly stopped in his tracks. He gazed up at the sky, muttering to himself, “Nine stars in a line, a sign of heaven and earth—surely a portent of calamity.”

He lowered his head, his right hand calculating rapidly. “Strange, an imperial star descends from the heavens—landing in the very heart of Luoyang’s imperial family. Could it be that the declining Han Dynasty has a chance for revival?”

He sighed, shaking his head. “Ah, what does the fate of the mortal world have to do with this old Daoist?” In the next moment, a white mist swirled around him, and when it dispersed, the Daoist had vanished without a trace.

Within a resplendent palace in Luoyang—

“Push, Your Majesty! Push!” urged two midwives in their forties, encouraging the laboring woman.

“Aah! Aaah!” The cries of a young girl, barely fifteen or sixteen, echoed in pain from the bed.

Beyond the doors, a man in imperial robes paced anxiously. “Why is it taking so long? This is driving me mad.”

No one knew how much time had passed before a palace maid came running out, beaming. “Congratulations, Your Majesty! The Empress has given birth to a dragon child.”

“What! Quick, let me see!” The Emperor strode in eagerly, his face alight with excitement. “Let me see him at once!”

A midwife handed him the newborn. “Congratulations, Your Majesty, felicitations!”

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At that moment, the infant—no, it was Liu Yao, barely managing to open his eyes—thought, “Where am I?” Feeling his body, he was stunned. “I’m... small? Have I been reborn?” Memories of his previous life’s death flashed through his mind. “It seems I really have been reborn.”

Eagerly, Liu Yao tried to observe his surroundings, but could only make out the man holding him—who looked no older than sixteen or seventeen—and the midwives nearby. Their attire was ancient, yet with his expertise, Liu Yao quickly recognized the traditional Han robes, and the imperial dragon robe at that. “Could it be I've traveled to the past and been reborn into the royal family? That means I might become Emperor one day! My luck is incredible!”

“Hahaha! At last, I have an heir!” The Emperor cradled Liu Yao, laughing heartily. Suddenly he paused, frowning. “Wait, why isn’t the child crying?” he asked the midwife suspiciously.

Liu Yao pouted inwardly. “After all, I’m a grown man. Why should I cry?”

The midwife, experienced in her craft, gave Liu Yao a firm slap on the bottom. The sting hadn’t even faded before her other hand landed again.

Cursing silently, Liu Yao had no choice but to wail a few times to save himself from further abuse. “Waaah! Waaah!”

“Hahaha, my imperial son!” The Emperor, seeing the child cry, was overjoyed that he wasn’t mute and laughed once more.

Suddenly, a young palace maid rushed in, panic-stricken. “Your Majesty! The Empress is hemorrhaging badly. The imperial physician says... says...” She was too frightened to finish.

“Fools! If you don’t save the Empress, all of you will join her in the grave!” the Emperor roared at everyone present.

“What! The Empress... isn’t that my mother? How can this be...?” Overwhelmed, Liu Yao’s newborn mind couldn’t withstand the strain, and he drifted into unconsciousness, oblivious to all that happened next.

Time flew by, and six years passed in the blink of an eye. Outside a stately ancient palace, a boy of six or seven in a black Han robe stood gazing up at the moon.

“The moon is brightest in my homeland. Alas, since I am here, I must accept it,” he sighed, the maturity on his face belying his age. This boy was none other than Liu Yao. In these six years, he had fully understood his situation.

The current year was Xiping Five, or 176 AD. The reigning emperor, his own father, was none other than the infamous Emperor Ling—Liu Hong—the man remembered for selling offices, indulging eunuchs, and a life of debauchery. His father had even named him Liu Yao, which suited him just fine—no need to change names.

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Heaving a long sigh, Liu Yao gazed at the sky. “To think that I’ve been reborn into the final days of the Eastern Han—a time of chaos. The dynasty is doomed; even if I become Emperor, I’d be a puppet, a monarch presiding over a lost nation.”

Yet, a spark of determination lit up his eyes, and confidence spread across his face. “But if Heaven intends to doom me, then I shall defy Heaven itself! Chaotic times forge heroes—since I am here, I will make my mark! With my identity, status, and knowledge of history, this realm shall be mine for the taking.” Passion surged in Liu Yao’s heart.

He lowered his head and rolled up his sleeve, revealing a tattoo on his arm shaped like a book. “I saved you in my past life. I wonder how you’ll repay me in this one?”

The tattoo was identical to the ancient manuscript Liu Yao had saved from the flames in his previous life. He was certain it was no ordinary mark; he simply hadn’t discovered how to use it yet.

“Grandson, it’s getting late. Come rest now,” came a mature woman’s voice from inside the palace.

“Coming, Grandmother,” Liu Yao replied, hurrying inside. The woman was his grandmother, Empress Dowager Dong—mother of Emperor Ling. Liu Yao’s birth mother, Empress Song, had died of hemorrhaging shortly after his birth six years ago, so Emperor Ling had placed Liu Yao in the Empress Dowager’s care. Perhaps out of guilt, the Emperor was attentive to Liu Yao, visiting him frequently.

This year, his first younger brother was born—later known as the Young Emperor Liu Bian. His mother, Lady He, was made Empress after insistent petitions from court officials that “the nation cannot go a day without a mother.” Suddenly, she basked in glory, and even her brother—a former butcher—was elevated to Grand General, entrusted with command of the empire’s armies.

“Grandmother!” Liu Yao dashed into Empress Dowager Dong’s embrace. In his past life, Liu Yao had been an orphan, raised in an orphanage, never knowing the warmth of family. So, though he now had the mind of a thirty-year-old, he still relished seeking affection from his grandmother, savoring the love he’d never known.

“Good boy! Yao’er, it’s late—go rest. Tomorrow, your father has arranged for a teacher to instruct you. If you’re late, it would be a grave disrespect,” Empress Dowager Dong said, gently stroking his hair. She doted on her first grandson, fearing he might be mischievous and get hurt. But to her relief, the child was always obedient and sensible, never causing trouble.

“Yes, Grandmother, I’ll go to bed now.” With that, Liu Yao darted off to his room.

Liu Yao eagerly anticipated his new teacher. In his previous life, he had studied Confucianism, but he hoped his tutor wouldn’t be a pedantic scholar. Still, to be chosen as the Crown Prince’s instructor was no ordinary honor—his teacher would surely be a leading figure among the scholars. With such guidance, Liu Yao would gain influence among the literati and attract talented advisors to his cause, laying a solid foundation for his future ambition to rule the land.