O Primeiro Campeão Imperial da Grande Canção

“What smells so good?”

Yang Lin groggily sat up, blinking his eyes open, and found that his shabby old kennel had somehow become beautiful. Delicate gauze drapes and bead curtains, all edged with gold thread, surrounded him—truly exquisite.

Still dazed from his slumber, Yang Lin thought he must be dreaming. He managed a wry smile and muttered, “Oh, kennel of mine, after all these years you’ve finally matured—not only did you learn to tidy yourself up, you’ve even evolved.”

Wait—that’s not right! A chill shot from his heels straight to the crown of his head, snapping him awake in an instant. This was no ordinary place: an ancient rosewood bed exquisitely carved, elegant wooden cabinets, a soft and ornate carpet beneath his feet, and a precious sword with a jade hilt and golden scabbard hanging on the wall. The air itself was thick with opulence.

He knew his own situation all too well: alone in the world, all his possessions together wouldn’t buy a single chair in this room.

Could it be that some wealthy lady, smitten with his looks, had kidnapped him to her chamber for a bit of historical roleplay? He considered his own thin, scrawny frame—clearly not the type a rich woman would fancy—and let out a long sigh of relief, though a faint sense of disappointment lingered in his heart.

It must still be a dream, he finally concluded. Only a dream could explain what he saw before him.

He climbed out of bed, stepping onto the velvet carpet—soft and smooth to the touch. For a moment, Yang Lin felt as if he were floating. If this was a dream