3 Past and Present Lives

Why do people say that time, place, and favorable circumstances are all essential for time travel?

Wei Guangde, a native of Chengdu, Sichuan, was a classic "demolition heir" thanks to the massive development of the Tianfu New Area. With the government compensation and resettlement housing, he was living a comfortable life. In his twenties, he told his parents he was heading out for a summer vacation with his girlfriend, a teacher. They boarded a luxury cruise ship in Chongqing, intending to travel along the Yangtze River and return via Shanghai.

As the ship sailed downstream, they passed Jiujiang and a place called Madang. While standing on deck, Wei Guangde noticed a child swimming near the shore. Before long, he saw the child struggling—bobbing up and down, one hand waving frantically. He was drowning—probably having swum too far, exhausted, or suffering from a cramp. That was Wei Guangde’s immediate assessment.

Since it was summer, he wasn't wearing much. Wei Guangde quickly stripped off his shirt and shorts, told his girlfriend to call for help, and dove into the water. Though he had never saved anyone before, he remembered advice he’d heard: never approach a drowning person from the front, or they would grab you and drag you down with them. He swam behind the boy, hooked his chin with one arm, and swam back toward the ship using a backstroke.

By then, his girlfriend had alerted others. With a flurry of effort, the child was pulled aboard. Just as Wei Guangde was about to climb up, he felt a powerful suction dragging him underwater. At first, he was terrified, thinking he’d encountered a water ghost. But as a college student with sixteen years of standard education, he knew that the world didn't contain such supernatural beings. After all, the modern mantra was that nothing was allowed to become a spirit after the founding of the People's Republic.

Yet, what was this suction? Could it be a lingering remnant of the old world, and he had been unlucky enough to run into it? He struggled desperately, the world spinning, until he heard people on the ship shouting, "A whirlpool!"

When Wei Guangde woke up again, he was here: the twenty-ninth year of the Jiajing reign, still in Jiujiang, and still in a place called Madang. According to his older brother, he had gone out fishing on a patrol boat, fallen overboard, and in his panic, kicked the boat away, drifting into a whirlpool. He had sunk without a trace.

Perhaps it was fate; several soldiers managed to fish his half-drowned body out. They thought he was a goner, but he miraculously survived. However, the person who woke up was no longer the original Wei Guangde, but a man from several centuries in the future.

Time? Well, it was a coincidence he hit a whirlpool. Place? It seemed he was still in the same general location. Favorable circumstances? Both were named Wei Guangde, so perhaps the ghosts of the underworld got confused, or there was some bureaucratic error. Regardless, he was alive again, hundreds of years in the past.

For the first few days, Wei Guangde felt incredibly awkward. A man in his twenties trapped in the body of a teenager—skinny and weak—was frustrating. The hardest part was calling two strangers "Mother" and "Father." However, after a few days of rest, he began to have dreams about the younger Wei Guangde’s life. Perhaps this was the fusion of bodily memories. He gradually adapted and accepted his new reality.

Fortunately, his original parents had his older brother to look after them, and given their financial status, their retirement would be secure. He consoled himself by thinking that his death had been an act of bravery.

Coincidentally, this version of Wei Guangde also had an older brother, named Wei Wencai. The name sounded scholarly, though he wasn't destined to be a scholar; he would likely inherit their father’s hereditary position as a "Hundred-House" commander. They belonged to the Bengshan Company under the Right Thousand-House Battalion of the Jiujiang Guard. His father, Wei Meng, was the current commander.

The Jiujiang Guard was part of the Ming Empire’s central army, under the direct command of the Front Chief Military Commission. While not as elite as the capital guards, it was still a centrally managed unit stationed on the Yangtze. If there were trouble in the capital, they would be among the first to be mobilized.

Wei Guangde had learned this recently. The original Wei Guangde had been a glutton who loved fish—perhaps that was why he had gone out on the boat that day.

He walked through the front courtyard and into the rear residence. As the family of a Hundred-House commander, they had a few older servants who lived in the back. He asked the elderly maid near his mother, "Where is my mother?"

"In the inner room, young master. Please, go comfort your mother; she has sent us all away," the servant replied.

Though a Hundred-House commander was a sixth-rank military officer, the family wasn't particularly wealthy compared to civil officials of the same rank. They couldn't afford young maids, only a few older servants. Entering the room, Wei Guangde saw his mother, Madam Wu, sitting on the edge of the bed, silently weeping.

"Mother, what’s wrong? Who upset you?" he asked, feigning ignorance.

"Nothing. Are you back from school? Are you hungry? There are pastries in the outer room," she said, pulling herself together and sitting upright, though her eyes remained red.

Wei Guangde couldn't keep up the act. "I saw Father at the fortress earlier. He said they were just ordered to assemble as a precaution. Before their ships even reach Yingtian, the border troops will have driven the Tatars back. Don't worry."

Having been bombarded with history from his past life, Wei Guangde knew that while the Ming military's combat effectiveness was often lackluster, the border troops were still formidable—certainly much stronger than the Jiujiang Guard. At this point, citing the strength of the northern armies was the only way to offer any real reassurance.