"Shang Jing, Shang Jing, wake up."

"Quick, go to the Tai Hospital and ask the Tai Doctor to come, Yang Taishi fainted."

…………

A voice with an urgent call sounded in Yang Shangjing's ears, accompanied by bursts of noisy sounds, Yang Shangjing tried hard to open his eyes, and found that he had fallen to the ground.

"Who am I, where am I, what am I doing?" Three philosophical questions came to Yang Shangjing's mind, and he only felt that the world was spinning in front of him, and a huge and mixed memory rushed into his mind, and the upper body he had just propped up slammed into the ground again.

It's cold.

Yang Shangjing thought subconsciously, and then a gust of cold wind whistling by made him shiver.

A middle-aged man with a sad face turned his head and shouted to a little guy who had just rushed over: "Yang Taishi is angry and bloody, why don't you go and ask the imperial doctor quickly!" ”

"I ...... It's okay, it's probably a surge of blood and energy, just take a break. Yang Shangjing waved his hand, struggled to stand up against the wall, only to feel dizzy, unstable under his feet, and his whole person shook.

The middle-aged man hurriedly stepped forward and held him up: "Is the nephew really fine?" ”

Yang Shangjing endured the dizziness and nodded, and then heard the middle-aged man sigh: "Then I will take my nephew to the guest room to rest for a while, my father is newly mourned, if there is anything that is not taken care of, I hope my nephew will forgive me." ”

Now Yang Shangjing couldn't figure out the situation at all, and his mind was like a mess of numbness, so he didn't dare to talk much at all, just covered his head with his hand and nodded, so the middle-aged man didn't have time to ask anything more, two short clothes and plain robes came over and walked towards the wing room with him.

The sound of discussion came from behind, mixed with the earth-shattering mourning music, but vaguely recognizable, it was all words of praise.

"I'm afraid that Yang Taishi is sad here, and sorrow comes from it, so his heart is surging and he faints on the spot."

"Five years after the death of the scholar of Dongyang University, Shang Jing Shou Fang returned, and it is reasonable to be overly sad when I see this situation and this scene again."

"This son is a person of pure filial piety, and Master Wen Min can be at peace in the spirit of the sky."

…………

In an antique guest room, Yang Shangjing lay on the bed, trying to recall "himself" past, and it took half an hour for him to smooth out his memories, or rather, successfully separate the two entangled memories.

"Yang Jian, the word Shangjing, Yongle was born in the sixteenth year, his ancestral home was Jian'an, Fujian, the second grandson of the late university scholar Yang Rongyan, the orthodox four years have not been the second class 33 Cijin Shi was born, the Ministry of Rites and Politics was observed, orthodox five years in July, grandfather Yang Rong died of illness in Wulinyi, returned to his hometown for three years, returned to Beijing at the beginning of the ninth year, and was promoted to the Hanlin Academy for editing." Yang Shangjing muttered about the identity of the original owner of this body, and couldn't help but flatten his mouth.

Today is the ninth year of orthodoxy in March, yesterday the university scholar Yang Shiqi died of illness, the original Yang Jian came to mourn, but remembered his grandfather Yang Rong, touched the scene and was sad, and died directly under the surging blood, which made him occupy the magpie's nest, and the one who just let people take care of him should be Yang Shiqi's second son Yang Dao.

Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced at the white cloth outside the house, Yang Shangjing couldn't help but shudder, and secretly rejoiced: "It's okay, there is a young and golden, handsome and dashing rich third-generation official master to cross for me, if it is worn on Yang Shiqi's body...... Isn't that going to be dying and sick for another year? ”

However, this little luck was quickly awakened by reality, and he couldn't help but lament with his academic qualifications and the knowledge that belonged to the 21st century in his mind: "Isn't it popular now that engineering dogs cross and climb science and technology trees to build big buildings, and then push Europe, Asia and Africa to rule the world?" How did I, a liberal arts monk studying in Bencheng, end up in the imperial capital in 1444? Could it be that I can still do a 'day trip to the palace' or 'dinner with His Majesty the Emperor', vigorously revitalize the tourism industry of the Ming Dynasty, vigorously develop the tertiary industry, and then rely on the money to kill the Japanese on the southeast coast and the Tatar Warat in the north? ”

Before the crossing, he was just a junior in an ordinary second normal school, and he was not a normal major, but a magical major called tourism management and hotel management, which sounded very foreign, but in fact, he had to serve a plate in the hotel for a few months or even a few years after graduation, before he could really embark on a management position.

So he decided to take the postgraduate entrance examination, because his college is called the "School of History, Culture and Tourism", so naturally, he chose to take the postgraduate examination of the Department of History, perhaps he is different from most students in this major in that his interest in history is far greater than his interest in the end of the plate, so he started a Chinese Studies Society, relying on the Chinese Studies Knowledge Contest to indirectly kill a class of younger students.

Just last night, he had just stayed up late and flipped through a few pages of Ming History, lying on the table and squinting his eyes, only to wake up like this.

Yang Shangjing grinded his teeth, looked around, and thought about finding a solid wall to hit headlong to see if he could wear it back, but Guo Degang's cross talk could not be used as a scientific basis for crossing and anti-crossing, so after thinking about it for three seconds, he gave up his intention to try, and he decided to try to do something in this era after receiving the influence of 21st century Internet literature.

Even if it's just a dream, it's a joy to make it a little more exciting.

"The ninth year of orthodoxy, the year of Jiazi, this is not a good year......" Yang Shangjing lay on the couch, staring at the ceiling of Yang Shiqi's house, feeling a little toothache: "Why not the ninth year of Xuande?" Even if it's orthodox for four years, it's okay to have a good time when the Empress Dowager Zhang is still there, Yang Rong is also alive, Wang Zhen is not so unscrupulous, I can still use the name of Yang Rong's 'grandfather' to show some extraordinary opinions, and then I will do an errand in the James Mansion, engage in 'sycophancy', and suppress Wang Zhen's influence, now ......"

Yang Shangjing snapped his fingers, counted all the things he knew over the years, and finally sighed gloomily, people have to die compared to people, goods have to be thrown away, the same surname is Yang, people have crossed the training of an obedient little emperor, can suppress the eunuch party leader and beat him, can directly stuff rags into the mouths of the southeast scholars, and can also hang up the barbarians in the four directions of the southeast and northwest to criticize them.

But what can he do now? Not to mention that there is no hope of sneaking into the James Mansion, even if it is useless to sneak in, it is a fool's dream to fight for a little bit of the Holy Favor from the eighteen-year-old orthodox emperor this year, he believes that as long as he shows such a little bit of meaning, he expects Wang Zhen, who is alive, to throw him into the edict of Jinyiwei and beat him to death.

Cutting off people's wealth is like killing people's parents and robbing people's Wang Zhen's holy relatives...... Not to mention that he is only Yang Rong's second grandson, not to mention that Yang Rong has been dead for three years, even if Yang Rong is still alive, he can't save him.

"A non-embarrassing identity, a non-embarrassing years, and a name that is not embarrassing." Yang Shangjing sighed, got up from the bed, and shook his clothes, "Yang Jian's name may not all have three eyes, he may be an unlucky guy who has crossed over." ”