Chapter Three: My Animal Friends and I
“Has it really been this long...”
Gazing at the simulated message showing his own stunned reaction upon first learning about the Ming Dynasty, Zhou Liang sighed deeply, his mind inevitably drifting back to the past.
In those days, he truly was just like this simulated character—utterly shocked by the fractured history of the late Ming.
The breaking point of that distorted history began in the autumn of the seventeenth year of Chongzhen’s reign...
According to original history, it was the year when rebel leader Li Zicheng captured the Ming capital, Shuntian Prefecture, forcing Emperor Chongzhen to hang himself on the infamous crooked tree at Coal Hill, thus ending the Ming Dynasty’s 276-year reign.
Following that, Li Zicheng advanced to Shanhaiguan Pass to attack the Ming general Wu Sangui. Pressed to the brink, Wu Sangui shaved his head overnight and surrendered to the Qing forces beyond the pass, summoning the army led by Dorgon to form the so-called “Ming-Qing allied army.”
A great battle between the peasant army fighting oppression and the feudal forces of the Ming and Qing dynasties was on the verge of erupting!
Caught off guard, Li Zicheng’s forces were swiftly crushed in the Battle of Yipianshi, forcing him into a frantic retreat back to Shuntian Prefecture. There, he hastily indulged in a brief imperial fantasy:
He founded the “Great Shun” regime, proclaimed the era name “Yongchang,” and declared himself emperor.
But it was a rapid collapse thereafter. The Qing army from beyond the pass seized the opportunity to march south, driving out the newly crowned Yongchang emperor. The Qing’s Shunzhi Emperor then ascended the throne at Shuntian, initiating the Qing’s campaign to unify the nation...
Those familiar with the transition from Ming to Qing would have long memorized this sequence. But the crucial difference in this timeline is that Emperor Chongzhen did not hang himself to become a scarecrow on the crooked tree as in original history. Instead, shortly after attempting suicide, he was resurrected—and became a god!
No one understood how or why, but the fact remained: Chongzhen truly revived and ascended to godhood. Upon becoming a deity, he delivered a deliberate, thunderous blow, fracturing the original history like a broken bone. From that moment, history veered sharply onto an uncharted path, limping forward with tears in its eyes...
The resurrected Chongzhen’s disposition changed dramatically. He was once a politically weak and inept emperor—some even considered him a decent man—but as a god, he turned terrifyingly cruel.
Li Zicheng and Zhang Xianzhong, the two peasant rebellion leaders sworn enemies of his, were the first to be crushed by him. But his wrath did not end there; he proceeded to annihilate all whom he deemed “traitors”:
The people of Shuntian who welcomed Li Zicheng, the citizens of Luoyang who had participated in the killing of Prince Fu, the tax-rebellious populace of Yangzhou, and those of Zhongdu and Fengyang whose failure to quell the rebels had led to the desecration of his family’s ancestral tombs...
Also, the residents of Shaanxi, Li Zicheng’s homeland, and the people of Sichuan under Zhang Xianzhong’s rule.
Figures like Hong Chengchou, Zu Dashou, and officials throughout the court met the same fate.
What about the Qing?
Well, the entire Liaodong region was ravaged by the Divine Emperor, leaving scarcely any survivors...
He cared little for their justifications or statuses. Anyone displeasing him was utterly destroyed!
Good people died; bad people died. Before the Divine Emperor, all were equal.
Yet the bloodshed was not the gravest matter. Historically, the Qing’s entry into the pass also involved massacres, which did not prevent the coming of a prosperous era. As long as capable rulers governed afterward, a thriving Golden Age like that of Kangxi and Qianlong could still emerge.
The real catastrophe was that Chongzhen’s political acumen had not strengthened alongside his divine power. He remained as incompetent as ever—not even reaching the bare minimum required of an emperor, let alone comparing to the top-ranking historical figures.
Thus, countless petty sycophants rose to power, wielding empty rhetoric of “loyalty” and “grace” to secure high positions in a decimated court. Their governance skills were nearly nonexistent, but their knack for corruption and power games was unparalleled, plunging the realm into chaos.
Talented officials who sincerely wished to serve the Ming often incurred the Divine Emperor’s suspicious wrath, leading to their demotion, exile, or gruesome deaths—sometimes entire clans wiped out in brutal purges.
The already suffering populace, crushed by natural disasters and man-made calamities, found themselves driven to rebellion once more. But whenever they rose up, the Divine Emperor quelled them with ruthless iron fists!
The world was engulfed in misery; the people could barely survive...
“The Ming should have died long ago, but damn it, the Divine Emperor insists on keeping this rotting corpse alive... Naturally, it’s tyranny beyond compare, governance harsher than any tiger...”
Zhou Liang sighed helplessly. This, he realized, was the root of his failure in this life and why mere simulation could not solve the problem. After all, the Chongzhen Divine Emperor was an invincible mechanical deity—nothing could change that.
“So, will that abstract title the system gave me really be useful?”
Zhou Liang doubted it but couldn’t help nurturing a flicker of hope:
[Listening to your parents recount “Rebirth: I am the Divine Emperor of Ming,” you feel utterly bewildered.]
[You have read many novels about traveling to the Ming Dynasty and giving Chongzhen a superpower boost. Although you always thought Chongzhen was a weak, suspicious, and ungracious emperor unworthy of support, and considered the young idealists under the red flag foolishly prolonging a decaying feudal regime, occasionally reading such stories for amusement was tolerable.]
[But you have never seen any such novel where Chongzhen is boosted to become a mechanical god...]
[What kind of ridiculous fantasy is this?]
[Inserting a true deity into historical fiction—what nonsense!]
[The real Divine Emperor shattered history with a single punch. Li Zicheng, who was supposed to end the Ming, died in the Forbidden City. Zhang Xianzhong, also a cruel chosen one, was no match for the terrifying Divine Emperor incarnate. The Southern Ming never even existed from the start.]
[What about the Qing? Most likely, they were completely wiped out...]
[The Ming today has only one sun: the Divine Emperor. The Chongzhen era has continued to a nonexistent “Chongzhen 43rd year.” This year, you were born in a small northern Shaanxi town, officially encountering this wildly distorted “Divine Emperor’s Ming.”]
[Though your parents have told you these things, they do not yet affect you. Thus, you have spent a relatively warm and happy childhood in this home.]
[You play and laugh daily like any other child, until you turn three...]
[Your family is poor, but thanks to the Divine Emperor’s “grace,” you have a hundred or so acres of land. Yet after decades, the savings barely suffice, and upward social mobility remains distant. So your parents pin their hopes on you, their only son.]
[In Ming society, there is but one path for commoners to rise: study, pass the imperial exams, and become officials! Thus, at age three, your parents plan to send you to school for your first lessons...]
“First lessons, huh...”
Reading this part, Zhou Liang couldn’t help but remember:
When he was three, his parents indeed sent him to school. Filled with youthful ambition, he resolved to use his knowledge as a time traveler to become a prodigy, pass the imperial exams, and serve the Ming people—whether or not he became an official was secondary.
He did become a prodigy, passing the initial scholar exam at nine, much to the delight of his teachers and parents, who hoped he would eventually pass the higher exams and bring honor to the family.
But in the end...
Thinking back on how he never rose beyond the initial exam, Zhou Liang clenched his teeth in frustration. He never understood why he failed to pass the provincial exam despite having knowledge not inferior to those who succeeded.
He kept trying until eighteen, when he finally gave up, turning instead to the rebellion led by Huang Chao, founding the anti-Ming society “Pig Slaughtering Club,” and ultimately dying by poison at age 56 in the 99th year of Chongzhen’s reign—38 years later.
“Am I doomed to repeat this path?”
Zhou Liang frowned, knowing that school was the origin of his misfortune.
But the system clearly would not allow him to repeat the same mistakes, and soon, an unexpected development arrived...
[At age three, your parents eagerly brought you to a government-run school to register you.]
[The process was simple enough. The Ming bureaucracy was thoroughly corrupted—so long as you paid well, enrollment was no problem. If you paid more, the teacher might even give you special tutoring—an unspoken rule.]
[But when the clerk registering students laid eyes on you, he suddenly uttered a soft exclamation, inexplicably finding you more and more agreeable...]
[“Child, what is your name?”]
[To your parents’ surprise, the usually haughty clerk smiled kindly at you, breaking his usual demeanor.]
[You were a bit stunned but quickly responded obediently, “Sir, my name is Zhou Liang, and I am three years old.”]
[“Zhou Liang... Liang...”]
[He seemed to ponder your ordinary name and then smiled gently, “Good name. You must be a well-behaved and sensible child. How about this: if you can compose a poem or essay for me, and do well, I will admit you to school!”]
[What?!]
[You and your parents were stunned, your hearts sinking. Damn it!]
[Ordinarily, a three-year-old can barely recognize characters, let alone compose poetry. Even Fang Zhongyong, a prodigy of the Song Dynasty, only wrote poems at age five. Asking a three-year-old to compose poetry is clearly setting an impossible task!]
[You and your parents cursed silently, wondering what you might have done to offend this clerk... Could it be a ploy for a bribe? But such ridiculousness at enrollment—what’s next?!]
Hmm?
Zhou Liang was dumbfounded:
“I don’t remember this part at all.”
He distinctly remembered smoothly enrolling in school without such difficulties!
So this must be a new, unexpected plot… Yet, up to now, his simulated and real experiences had been identical; no butterfly effect should have occurred.
“Could it be... the title?”
Zhou Liang glanced at the abstract title he had obtained earlier:
[“Me and My Animal Friends” (Title): Wearing this title grants innate goodwill from all non-human animals, effective in both reality and simulation!]
Animal friends? Innate goodwill?
Zhou Liang narrowed his eyes, sensing he had uncovered some crucial new information...