Modern AU – Epilogue

Modern AU – Epilogue

In the height of summer, the exhibition hall—packed with tourists—had become so crowded that even the air-conditioning was no longer effective.

Amid the surging crowd, even breathing felt difficult.

No one knew what had happened, but suddenly chaos broke out in front of the display case housing ritual wine vessels.

Along with a child’s crying, a visitor turned around and shouted loudly into the crowd:

“Stop pushing!”

“Make some space—clear a bit of room!”

Like a tide receding, the crowd rapidly pressed backward.

Security personnel who had received the message jogged over from a corner, gripping their walkie-talkies.

At the other end of the exhibition hall, a man in a black shirt stopped walking.

“What happened?” He frowned, looking toward the commotion.

The staff member beside him immediately covered the earpiece on his cheek and quietly asked a few questions into it.

Then, wiping cold sweat from his forehead, he said nervously to the man,

“Mr. Ying, I’m terribly sorry. There’s been a small incident in the hall—we’re handling it now. How about… um, I take you to see the special exhibition first?”

As a guide, he had long since developed a steady heart through work.

But the presence beside him was overwhelming—one furrowed brow was enough to make his heart seize.

“Mm.”

Seeing the man nod, the guide finally breathed out in relief.

“Mr. Ying, this way please.”

The visitors in the hall were ushered out by security.

One could vaguely see someone collapsed on the ground.

“First, help them up—”

As he spoke, a guard half-crouched down, trying to lift the fallen person toward the exit.

Before they had gone two steps, the man in the black shirt stopped again.

A few seconds later, he suddenly turned around and strode back into the exhibition hall.

“Eh—Mr. Ying!”

The guide froze for a moment, then hurried after him.

At the same time, flustered, he lowered his head and began reporting the situation inside the hall through his earpiece.

—

Several hours later, Zhaoshi Hospital.

Sunlight filtered through pale blue curtains and fell across the slightly pale face of the person lying in the hospital bed.

A college-aged man with a baby face sat by the bedside, speaking softly on the phone:

“…Auntie, please don’t worry. Axun is fine—just some minor external injuries. He already had a CT scan; the doctor said there’s no head trauma. Once he wakes up and we observe him for a bit, he can go home.”

“Yes… there was a little bleeding, but no stitches.”

After chatting for a bit, his voice rose unconsciously:

“We called 120 right away. A visitor stopped security from moving Axun directly—said to wait for the ambulance. After it arrived, that person left…”

Busy on the phone, he didn’t notice that Jiang Yuxun on the bed had opened his eyes at some point.

Jiang Yuxun looked around in confusion, then after a moment, finally focused his gaze on him and tentatively called out,

“…Zhuang Youli?”

Zhuang Youli, who had just hung up, instantly sprang up from the chair.

“Axun, you’re finally awake! Does your head still hurt? Want me to call the doctor right now?”

“…It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

Jiang Yuxun raised a hand to touch the back of his head instinctively, then sucked in a sharp breath and looked at him in confusion.

“When did you cut your hair this short?”

“My hair—short?”

Zhuang Youli froze, then leaned in with sudden panic.

“No, don’t tell me you really knocked yourself stupid. Hasn’t my hair always been this length? You even saw me before work this morning!”

Zhuang Youli was Jiang Yuxun’s childhood friend—and his roommate.

They saw each other every day. There was no way he could misremember his hairstyle.

“Oh… oh, I must’ve mixed it up.”

Jiang Yuxun said this while propping himself up to sit.

Even as he spoke, something still felt off.

He suddenly felt that… he shouldn’t recognize the Zhuang Youli of this world.

And the short hair looked wrong to him—no matter how he looked at it.

The moment that thought surfaced, Jiang Yuxun startled himself.

What does “this world” even mean?

What kind of nonsense is my brain filled with?

Seeing that Jiang Yuxun seemed alert, Zhuang Youli finally relaxed.

“I was just on the phone with Auntie—she said she wanted to come to Zhaoshi to see you. Since you’re awake now, give her a call first.”

As he spoke, he reached up and pulled the curtains open.

Blazing summer sunlight poured into the room in an instant.

Jiang Yuxun squinted reflexively.

Though the room was air-conditioned, he still felt a wave of warmth wash over him.

That strange, lingering sense of dissonance vanished under the sunlight.

Jiang Yuxun’s parents had just come to Zhaoshi to visit him recently—they’d only left last night.

Flying back again now would be far too much trouble.

As soon as Zhuang Youli finished speaking, Jiang Yuxun picked up his phone and called his parents.

—

Hospital beds in Zhaoshi were in short supply.

After waking up and being kept for observation for two hours, Jiang Yuxun was discharged and boarded a bus.

The moment he got on, he eagerly hooked his thumb under the pull tab, popped open a can, and gulped down half a can of cola in one go—looking nothing like someone who had just left the hospital.

Zhuang Youli was startled.

“Can you even drink that right now?”

“It’s fine. The doctor didn’t say I couldn’t.”

Jiang Yuxun spoke as he pulled out his phone and began scrolling.

“I just bumped my head—I’m not sick.”

“True…”

Zhuang Youli nodded along.

Even so, something still felt strange.

If he remembered correctly, Jiang Yuxun hadn’t been this obsessed with drinks before.

He wasn’t even that attached to his phone—messages Zhuang Youli sent him on WeChat often took hours to get a reply.

What on earth was wrong with him today…?

He looked like someone who hadn’t seen these things in eight lifetimes.

Zhuang Youli didn’t think too much about it. Seeing Jiang Yuxun on his phone, he put in his earphones and started gaming.

He completely failed to notice that Jiang Yuxun wasn’t browsing an app at all—

But, for once, was chatting with someone.

—

-: [Image]

The image had been sent more than four hours ago.

Jiang Yuxun opened it and his eyes widened involuntarily.

JIANG: !!! Isn’t this one of our museum’s display cases?!

JIANG: You came to the museum today?? Why didn’t you tell me in advance T_T

-: I had a last-minute business trip to Zhaoshi. Passed by and went in for a look.

As far as Jiang Yuxun knew, tickets to the National Museum of China had to be reserved seven days in advance—and sold out the instant they were released.

For this person to get a ticket at the last minute was unbelievably lucky.

JIANG: It’s peak season lately—the tickets are really hard to get. Good thing you managed to book one and didn’t come for nothing~

-: You weren’t at the museum today?

Seeing this message, Jiang Yuxun’s hand hovering over the screen paused.

He hesitated, then finally typed:

JIANG: I took a day off today. Didn’t go to work.

Admitting he’d been knocked unconscious by a kid at work and sent to the hospital was just too embarrassing.

He absolutely did not want to tell an online friend about that!

-: Got it.

-: I’ll be in Zhaoshi for a while.

The bus stopped and started. After a round of gaming, Zhuang Youli’s head began to feel dizzy.

Reluctantly, he pocketed his phone and looked at Jiang Yuxun with confusion.

“What are you looking at, Axun? Isn’t your head dizzy?”

Only then did he notice Jiang Yuxun’s phone was still on WeChat.

“You’re chatting with someone?!”

Zhuang Youli rubbed his eyes exaggeratedly.

“Do you have a girlfriend now—or a boyfriend?”

Jiang Yuxun had been a campus heartthrob since childhood, never short of admirers from middle school through university.

But he’d always lacked worldly desire.

Seeing him chatting, Zhuang Youli’s gossip radar instantly exploded.

“No way.”

Jiang Yuxun immediately locked his screen and denied it instinctively.

“Just an online friend!”

“An online friend…”

Zhuang Youli grew even more excited.

“Online dating?!”

Jiang Yuxun: …

He felt it was absolutely necessary to explain.

The bus stopped steadily at a red light. Jiang Yuxun took another sip of his drink and said,

“A few days ago, I saw someone asking about donating cultural relics under the official account. We chatted a bit, and eventually added each other.”

“Donating to the National Museum?”

Zhuang Youli burst out laughing.

“What kind of relic would that even have to be?”

He lifted his drink and took a sip as well.

The main building of the National Museum had been completed over twenty years ago and housed over a million artifacts.

Limited by space, countless items were still locked away in storage, rarely seeing the light of day.

Anything that made it into an exhibition could be called a national treasure.

To be blunt, the National Museum had long been overflowing with artifacts.

Accepting donations was nearly impossible.

Jiang Yuxun hesitated, then slowly lifted his head.

“…From the way he described it, it seems to be a Zhou-dynasty artifact—

and a seal once used by the Founding Emperor of Zhou.”

“Pff—cough cough cough!!”

Zhuang Youli instantly sprayed a mouthful of cola.

People nearby all turned to look at him.

“Sorry, sorry!”

Zhuang Youli hurriedly stood up and wiped down the seat with tissues. While apologizing to everyone around him, he lowered his voice and said to Jiang Yuxun,

“What nonsense—if he has an imperial seal, then I’ve got a Zhou sword.”

He was the first to burst out laughing after saying that.

Although Zhuang Youli majored in mathematics in college and didn’t understand history as well as Jiang Yuxun, who worked in cultural heritage, he still had basic common sense.

He knew perfectly well what an imperial seal meant in ancient times.

Zhuang Youli moved quickly, wiping the spilled drink clean in just a few motions.

By then, the bus had already started up again, heading toward the next stop.

Through the front window, the outline of the National Museum could be vaguely seen.

Their destination was just ahead.

—The National Museum was located in the city center of Zhaoshi. Zhuang Youli also worked nearby, so he and Jiang Yuxun had rented their apartment in this area together.

As the two stood up and walked toward the door, Zhuang Youli suddenly sensed something was off.

…That online friend’s words sounded ridiculous even to him. Why was Axun still chatting with that person and even adding them as a friend?

Zhuang Youli slowed his steps, turned around, and looked at Jiang Yuxun in confusion.

“Wait… Axun, you don’t seriously think what he said could be true, do you?”

As he spoke, the bus doors slid open.

Jiang Yuxun stepped out. A few seconds later, facing the wave of heat outside, he shook his head and said,

“I just wanted to explain the process. On the off chance someone actually needs it.”

Over a month ago, a netizen had asked about artifact donation procedures under the National Museum’s official account.

The comment had been so outrageous that neither the official account nor other netizens had bothered replying.

Bored and scrolling through the comments, Jiang Yuxun had kindly explained the process anyway.

His thinking at the time was very simple—

The donation procedures at museums across the country were basically the same.

Even if this netizen’s comment looked completely unreliable, explaining it didn’t cost anything.

The National Museum no longer accepted donations, but what if another netizen wanted to donate to a different museum and happened to see his reply? At least they’d know what to do.

Who would’ve thought that while “popularizing knowledge,” he’d somehow end up adding that netizen as a friend.

Although the netizen never brought up donating artifacts again afterward, the more Jiang Yuxun talked with him, the more he felt the man didn’t seem like someone joking around online.

Sometimes, Jiang Yuxun even found himself thinking, What if what he said is actually true?

“Exactly,” Zhuang Youli continued complaining as they walked onto the sidewalk after getting off the bus.

“There’s absolutely no way an ordinary person would have something of that level. If some big shot really had an imperial seal, he’d just send his secretary to ask around—why would he leave a comment online himself?”

Jiang Yuxun nodded in agreement.

Donating an imperial seal was no small matter. Leaving a comment directly under an official account… really was far too careless.

As they talked, the two reached an overpass.

Zhuang Youli was about to cross when he noticed Jiang Yuxun had stopped and wasn’t moving forward.

He asked in confusion,

“You’re not going home?”

Jiang Yuxun shook his head.

“I’m going back to the museum first.”

“Huh?”

Zhuang Youli looked shocked.

“No way—didn’t you just hit your head today? And you’re still going back to work? That’s way too dedicated!”

Jiang Yuxun, who had been about to walk forward, turned around and looked at Zhuang Youli like he was an idiot.

“I at least need to go change clothes.”

As a docent, Jiang Yuxun commuted in casual clothes, then changed into uniforms and leather shoes that were cleaned and pressed daily by staff.

That morning, he’d been sent straight to the hospital.

He was still wearing his work clothes now.

Zhaoshi summers were scorching; clothes had to be changed daily.

If he didn’t go back to change now, Jiang Yuxun had no idea how he was supposed to work tomorrow.

“Oh, right.”

Zhuang Youli finally stepped onto the overpass stairs.

“Then I’ll go back and keep gaming!”

It was Sunday. Unlike Jiang Yuxun, who rested on weekdays, Zhuang Youli had originally been at home gaming before going to the hospital.

Jiang Yuxun waved at him with a smile and called out loudly,

“Alright! Don’t eat dinner too early—I’ll treat you tonight!”

“Okaaaay!”

—

By the time Jiang Yuxun returned to the museum, it was close to closing.

Colleagues were gradually finishing their tours and heading back to the staff lounge.

Jiang Yuxun had graduated and joined the museum only two months ago. As the youngest docent, he was always looked after by his seniors.

When they saw him come back, everyone immediately surrounded him, firing off questions:

“Xiao Jiang, are you okay?”

“You have no idea how scary it was this morning—you fainted! I keep saying the daily visitor volume is way too high, and they still won’t accept suggestions to limit entry…”

“Xiao Jiang, what did the doctor say?”

Faced with so much concern, Jiang Yuxun quickly put down what he was doing and answered them seriously.

Only after clocking out did he return to the changing room to switch out of his uniform.

The staff lounge at the National Museum was connected to the VIP reception center.

Normally, they used the shared corridor here to exit through a side door.

By the time Jiang Yuxun finished changing, there weren’t many people left in the lounge.

The moment he pushed open the door, he saw a strange figure standing in the corridor.

Jiang Yuxun instinctively stopped.

Strange…

He hadn’t heard anything about VIP reception duties today.

The man surrounded by staff was tall. Even through a black shirt, the outline of his muscles was clearly visible.

Jiang Yuxun hesitated, then subconsciously stepped back, intending to retreat into the lounge.

But the man, who had already reached the end of the corridor, suddenly turned around—as if he’d heard something—and looked straight at him.

The museum’s side entrance faced west.

It was sunset.

The sun burned like a torch, igniting the air of Zhaoshi.

It lit up the corridor walls—and the lone figure of Jiang Yuxun standing at the end of the hall.

Jiang Yuxun blinked lightly.

The moment their gazes met, the stranger smiled and gave him a small nod.

Jiang Yuxun’s heart trembled.

His hands clenched tightly together.

Strange…

He’d never met this person before, yet somehow, he felt inexplicably familiar.

The instant that thought arose, the not-so-serious head injury he’d suffered suddenly began to ache, waves of dizziness rolling in.

He clenched his teeth instinctively and immediately retreated behind the glass door of the lounge.

Dazed and light-headed, Jiang Yuxun failed to notice—

The phone clenched in his palm vibrated twice at that exact moment.

…Forget it. I’ll sit for a bit before leaving.

Museum staff had staggered off-duty times.

Security, especially, had to remain on duty 24/7.

Just as Jiang Yuxun returned to the lounge, a colleague from security came over and patted his shoulder curiously.

“Xiao Jiang, why’d you suddenly turn back without saying anything? Weren’t you going to thank him just now?”

“Thank him?”

Jiang Yuxun looked at him in confusion.

“Oh right—my bad!”

The colleague slapped his forehead.

“You fainted back then, so you don’t know what happened.”

He pointed toward the reception center as he spoke.

“It was chaos this morning. Someone from our department panicked and tried to carry you straight to the infirmary. It was only after he reminded us that we realized your injuries were unclear and you couldn’t be moved casually.”

So that was it…

Embarrassment crept into Jiang Yuxun’s heart.

The man had helped him out of kindness, yet Jiang Yuxun hadn’t even thanked him—he’d disappeared the moment they made eye contact.

That was really impolite.

He tightened his grip on his phone and asked,

“Who was the visitor who helped me? Will he come again tomorrow?”

The moment the words left his mouth, Jiang Yuxun remembered—

Whether an ordinary visitor or a VIP, most people only visited the museum for a day.

Since the VIP tour had ended, of course he wouldn’t come again.

But the colleague’s answer completely contradicted his expectations.

“He’ll come.”

“I don’t know who he is, but he’ll definitely be back soon.”

“Why do you say that?”

The headache had mostly faded. Jiang Yuxun stood up from the sofa again.

Just then, footsteps echoed down the corridor.

—The staff responsible for the reception had returned after seeing off the VIP.

Jiang Yuxun was about to greet them when, in the next second, he saw—

The people walking in front were the museum director and several department heads.

Wait.

What is going on here?

Jiang Yuxun stood frozen, quietly watching them leave.

Only after their figures disappeared did he lower his voice and ask,

“Why is the director involved? Isn’t that a bit… excessive?”

The colleague leaned closer, glanced around, then whispered into Jiang Yuxun’s ear,

“The VIP today wasn’t here to visit. He came to donate an artifact.”

At that, his voice trembled slightly with excitement.

Jiang Yuxun: !

He’d underestimated reality.

There were actually people in this world who could bring artifacts to the National Museum?!

————————

Little Lord Jiang has returned to the modern era after history was changed.