Chapter Five: A World Unlike Any Other

Dongyuan No. 1 High School. After a morning filled with curses and grumbling, the students rose from their beds, ran their usual laps, ate breakfast, and attended the routine early study session. At precisely eight o’clock, the first class began.

But when the students of Class 166 settled into their seats, they discovered that the person who entered was not the strict and commanding homeroom teacher, but the genial history teacher.

“Your homeroom teacher has something to attend to this morning and swapped classes with me, so the first two periods will be history, and mathematics will be taught in the afternoon.”

“Today, I’ll continue to guide you through history. Take out Compulsory Textbook 2, turn to page thirty-five, and let’s review the history of the Great Qin Empire.”

Ah, this was a welcome change.

The tense atmosphere in the classroom immediately relaxed.

After all, the homeroom teacher had announced yesterday that today she would go over the exam papers from the previous days, even asking students to present their problem-solving methods in front of the class.

The history teacher, though a man, was far more amiable than the female homeroom teacher. More importantly, there had been no history exam in the past few days, so there was no need to discuss test papers.

The Great Qin Empire had endured for more than two thousand years; for students, the mountain of books and sea of questions remained their greatest “enemy.”

“…Ever since Qin unified the six states 2,243 years ago and established the Great Qin Empire, the concept and power of ‘unification’ began to show itself.”

At this, the history teacher rapped the desk, reminding them, “You must remember this date. It’s a guaranteed test question every year—a freebie. If you lose these two points, it’s truly disgraceful.”

“Also, take note here: Qin Shi Huang lived to sixty, ruled the empire for more than twenty years, and, compared to his earlier rule over the state of Qin, further strengthened central authority.”

“He abolished the feudal system and implemented the commandery-county system, standardized script and vehicle tracks, unified characters, currency, and measurements, allowing the concept of ‘unification’ to be accepted by more and more people across China…”

“The Ying clan of Zhao ruled the Qin Empire through four generations, lasting ninety-eight years. This era is known in history as the ‘Initial Qin Era,’ laying a solid foundation for later periods such as ‘Martial Qin,’ ‘Flourishing Qin,’ ‘Civil Qin,’ and the current ‘People’s Qin’ era…”

Zhou Shu listened to the familiar yet foreign historical facts, once again marveling at the differences between the two worlds.

Nonetheless, it did not diminish his admiration for Qin Shi Huang.

Unlike his previous world, in this one, the Qin Empire endured for an extraordinarily long time; even now, the name “Great Qin Empire” was still in use.

Though changes in dynasty still occurred due to redistribution, systems, and natural disasters, every new ruler was, without exception, a fan of Qin Shi Huang, adopting much of the framework from the Initial Qin Era and supplementing it with their own policies.

Because of this, Qin remained Qin; new rulers merely appended their own era names to “Great Qin.”

The Great Qin Empire established an advanced feudal system early on, and its national strength developed rapidly. At its peak, it accounted for half of the world’s GDP, maintaining global influence for a considerable period.

For example, the globally adopted “Great Qin Calendar” is proof of this legacy.

Yet, the prolonged dominance of the feudal empire was not entirely beneficial; it fostered arrogance.

Whether a nation or an individual, arrogance makes it difficult to embrace new things.

Years of stagnant productivity was one thing, but in eras of revolutionary change, an arrogant feudal empire suffered greatly.

A little over a century ago, the agrarian Great Qin Empire was battered by an alliance of several industrialized nations. The ensuing “colonization,” “partition,” and “plunder” deeply wounded the Great Qin people’s DNA-engrained ideal of unification, prompting them to rediscover ancestral strengths—and they erupted!

Enduring humiliation was only the beginning.

At the time, the leading industrial nations were reminiscent of the fragmentation of the Spring and Autumn Period, so Great Qin employed the strategies of alliance and diplomacy, sowing discord to instigate internal conflict among them.

Then came reverse engineering: learning and improving upon advanced industrial technologies, accelerating domestic industrial development.

Eventually, their diplomatic machinations succeeded, and those industrial nations descended into brawls on their own turf.

Taking advantage of their distraction, Great Qin launched a counterattack, expelling all colonial forces.

From then on, the Great Qin Empire proactively engaged with the world, assimilated advanced ideas, and, finally, integrated them—to usher in the “People’s Qin” era.

Because of these divergences, the world naturally differed from the other one. For example, the Great Qin Empire now covers 13.8 million square kilometers, with complete access to all four seas.

Indeed, there is a Western Sea, southwest of the empire, boasting a considerable coastline; according to the map, Zhou Shu recognized that the “Western Sea” in this world corresponds to the Bay of Bengal in the other.

Currently, the world’s strongest nation lies across the ocean—named the Eagle Federation—with a territory of 18.1 million square kilometers, occupying nearly seventy-five percent of North America. (See chapter commentary for this world’s map.)

Still, the Great Qin Empire is far from weak. To make a crude comparison: it has eight aircraft carrier fleets, while the Eagle Federation maintains twelve.

Although the world is different, his environment is as peaceful as in his previous life—perhaps even more so, given the rapid recovery of Great Qin’s national power over the past century and its renewed influence on neighboring regions. Here, some of the sordid affairs that occurred along borders in the previous world have never happened.

Peace is a blessing, for Zhou Shu felt that aside from some inexplicable memories, he had no extraordinary abilities—so a peaceful environment was best suited to him.

Reading novels or watching films featuring aliens, superheroes, and high-powered individuals seemed exciting, but actually living in such a world might turn his hair white from anxiety in a single day.

Or perhaps he wouldn’t even have a day, given the possibility of dying unnoticed in some disaster wrought by a supervillain.

Memories from the other world began appearing occasionally since childhood and grew more frequent as he aged.

In those flashes of recollection, he vaguely remembered being a student in his “previous life”—whether high school or university, he couldn’t recall. He had always remained in the ivory tower, lacking survival skills in society.

His name seemed to have been Zhou Shu then as well.

There were also scattered, fragmented memories that could not be pieced together.

It was precisely because of these broken “past life” memories and information that, while daily life was manageable, exams often proved troublesome. Conflicting viewpoints from both worlds would arise; he knew he should choose A, but after a moment’s thought, he’d bizarrely pick B.

This caused his academic performance to be poor from childhood.

He believed this was the reason—not that he was truly lacking intelligence.

As he grew older, he learned terms like “déjà vu,” “parallel worlds,” and “other worlds.” Exposure to online novels expanded his imagination, causing memories to surge forth.

But with maturity came clarity; he could now distinguish which answers to write on exams, and his grades improved.

Thinking of his grades, he immediately remembered the college entrance exam two months away—and then recalled last night’s events.

The news had announced a meteor shower, so many senior boys ran up to the dormitory roof to watch. Though the door to the rooftop was locked, could a single locked door stop high school seniors’ yearning for the stars?

Of course not.

A resourceful friend popped it open with a single wire.

It turned out, astonishingly, that his family were professional locksmiths, officially registered.

Of course, not the illicit kind—he was a certified locksmith with proper credentials.

But the group of boys wasn’t seeking romance or stargazing; they didn’t even have a telescope.

Certainly not for romance—no girls would be on the boys’ dormitory rooftop in the middle of the night.

They simply wanted to make a wish: hoping for high scores in the upcoming college entrance exam.