In the midst of the bitter cold, thoughts rushed at Xu Yang like a tide, and he quickly received all the information from this body.
He was indeed a beggar, his age not very clear, he didn't even have a formal name; people who knew him called him Dog.
Dog, since his earliest memories, had survived on begging alongside an old beggar, living in destitution, freezing and starving. The few moments of joy in his memory were no more than scraps of food fought for with difficulty.
Two years prior, the old beggar died, leaving him to survive alone, more oppressed than ever. Today, he died from cold and hunger, becoming just another insignificant frozen corpse in the twentieth year of Emperor Yang Jian's Kaihuang era of the Great Sui.
These were all the memories of the young beggar.
"Great Sui?"
"Kaihuang?"
"Twenty years?"
"A world that seems both real and unreal?"
"Or have I traveled to the history of China?"
