Li Wei jolted upright with a gasp. His lungs were filled with cold, heavy air, tinged with a faint bit of incense and something stale. His eyes strained, with a feeling like he had to work to adjust them to the dim light, and his body felt strange and stiff as he tried to sit up. Unbroken silence filled the room, broken only by the crackling of a torch on the wall.
Blinking, he looked around. He lay in an enormous room with high ceilings, dimly lit by the flickering candles. Golden ornamentation lined the walls, and plush cushions were strewn about on the floor. It looked something out of a historical drama, something ancient, something regal. But how could it be so?
Li Wei's heart pounded as he ran his fingers over his arms, feeling skin that wasn't his own. His hands were slender, soft, free from the callouses he'd earned from odd jobs and countless hours typing. He brought a hand to his face, tracing unfamiliar angles and features. Panic rose in his chest, but he forced himself to breathe, to stay calm.
The door creaked open, and a youth in traditional robes slipped inside. He bowed to the ground and whispered, "Your Majesty," his voice low but edged with nervousness. "The court awaits your presence.".
Li Wei's mind raced. Your Majesty? The words echoed in his head. Could it be? No, this had to be a dream. Some strange, vivid dream. But as he rose to his feet, following the servant out of the chamber, he felt every step, every texture beneath his bare feet. It felt too real.
The hallway was lined with palace guards and officials, all of whom bowed deeply as he passed. Every face he saw held a mix of reverence and fear and something else. Disdain? Dismissal? He tried to shake it off, but a pit of dread grew in his stomach.
As he was escorted into the great hall, Li Wei became cognizant of the gravity of his position. Banners with a dragon emblem hung from the ceiling; intricate tapestries told stories of battles long forgotten. At the end of the hall stood a throne his throne, the servant explained.
It felt strange to sit on it. But when he sat down, he had a feeling of quiet determination well up within him. This was his second chance, an opportunity beyond imagination. He had to make it count. But the faces before him showed little respect. The image that came before his mind was one of being weak, just a child, and a puppet ruler. He would show them otherwise.