Chapter 1: Arrival in England (New Book, Seeking Your Support)

The road, pockmarked with shell craters, resembled the face of someone with severe acne scars. Every house along the street had been reduced to ruins, and wisps of smoke drifted above the city. Across the street, the wreckage of destroyed buses and cars lay scattered in chaos. In the enormous craters, ruptured water and sewage pipes spewed forth clear water and filth, pooling into the craters and turning the street into a place as filthy as a cesspit.

The shrill air raid sirens had ceased.

Li Yian wandered aimlessly down the street, staring at the apocalyptic scene before him, desperately wishing it was all just a dream.

But it was all too real.

Only a moment ago, he had been carrying a bag of goods, ready to deliver them to his roommate, who ran a street stall. As usual, she was at her usual spot after work, and he would occasionally go by to lend a hand.

In the blink of an eye, he found himself on a strange street.

A red double-decker bus, a red telephone booth, a policeman in a black helmet blowing a whistle—it all looked as if it had leaped straight out of an old film about London.

After all, in twenty-first-century London, there would never be the sound of air raid sirens, or panicked crowds fleeing desperately, let alone propeller-driven fighter planes roaring through the sky.

Though he was still dazed, Li Yian, driven by survival instinct, joined the throng of people fleeing into the nearest Underground station.

Then came the deafening roar of explosions. The shockwaves left him stupefied for what felt like an eternity.

He had no idea how long had passed. When the air raid ended, he followed the flow of people out of the Underground station and wandered, lost, through the streets of London, like a headless fly, without knowing how many blocks he had crossed.

At last, exhausted, he slumped onto a bench by the roadside to catch his breath.

He had to face reality.

Lowering his head, he noticed half a sheet of old newspaper floating in a puddle by his feet. The headline read, “From One Victory to Another! Axis Forces in North Africa Surrender to the Allies!”

Axis forces in North Africa surrendering?

He glanced at the date on the paper: May 13, 1943.

He really had traveled through time.

Now, he was forced to confront an unavoidable reality—he was penniless and homeless.

Wandering the streets of London could not be a long-term solution.

What was he to do next?

It was a troublesome predicament.

Having read countless online novels, he knew well that traversing time and space in one's own body was the most tragic of all possible ways to travel—bar none.

Arriving physically meant he had no legal identity in this world, and could certainly forget any familiar tropes about having a wealthy father to fall back on.

Right now, the opportunity to land himself a rich parent was gone, while the likelihood of ending up on the gallows was only increasing.

During wartime, an unidentified foreigner loitering the streets… Add those three together, and he was the perfect image of a spy.

If he didn’t end up on the gallows, who would?

He had no idea how long he’d been walking. Parched with thirst and hollow with hunger, Li Yian grew more uneasy with every step.

Fortunately, in the aftermath of the bombing, London was teeming with fire engines and ambulances racing about; no one spared him a glance, not even the police.

After all, any Asian who could still be “wandering” the streets of London at this time was certainly not Japanese. All Japanese nationals in Britain had been rounded up and thrown into prison years ago, experiencing the full “enthusiasm” of Great Britain.

What was he to do?

Well, he’d take it one step at a time. Having struggled alongside classmates in a major city since graduating university, Li Yian had long since learned to adapt to circumstances.

Worrying was useless anyway. In these war-torn times, to have been thrown here so abruptly and not be immediately arrested as a spy was already a stroke of luck.

Though by the looks of things, it might not be long before that changed.

By now, darkness was falling. Once night came, the previously occupied police might finally have time to pay him some attention.

He fished out a cigarette from his shoulder bag and sighed helplessly.

He’d smoke a cigarette first, then think things through.

Just then, an Englishman approached from the opposite direction. As Li Yian pulled out his pack of cigarettes, the man’s eyes lit up at the sight of the camel logo.

Li Yian hadn’t even lit his cigarette when the man, ingratiatingly, stepped forward and asked, “Sir, are you smoking Camel?”

Could he really tell by the smell?

Li Yian did indeed smoke the American Camel brand, the unfiltered kind—a brand his tomboyish friend claimed had enough kick to last two hours per cigarette.

But to call out the name just by scent alone—surely his nose wasn’t that sharp.

Li Yian nodded. Seeing this, the Englishman’s face brightened with delight.

“It really is Camel? Ha, I knew it by the smell, ha…”

In truth, he had spotted the camel on the cigarette pack earlier and now fixed a greedy stare on the cigarette in Li Yian’s hand. Tentatively, he asked, “Sir, do you have any more Camel cigarettes?”

“What?”

The man cut straight to the point. “If you have more, I’ll give you a penny for each one! What do you say, sir?”

“A penny each?”

The Englishman’s behavior was odd, but for Li Yian, penniless, thirsty, and hungry as he was, this was nothing short of a godsend.

“A penny…”

Li Yian hesitated for a moment. Seeing the longing in the Englishman’s eyes, he flipped open his lighter.

The instant the lighter’s lid snapped open with a crisp “ding,” the Englishman’s eyes went wide.

That sound—surely this was a ZIPPO lighter.

Camel cigarettes and a ZIPPO lighter—genuine American goods! You couldn’t buy that stuff for love or money.

“Sir, if you’d sell me this ZIPPO lighter as well, I’ll give you four pounds and sixpence for the whole lot, no matter how many cigarettes you have left. What do you say?”

The man gritted his teeth and named a high price.

Camel cigarettes, a ZIPPO lighter—having these in hand was a mark of status.

With these, he’d be the sharpest fellow in the whole village!

“Hmm…”

Seeing the desire written all over the Englishman’s face, Li Yian thought for a moment and said, “There are seventeen cigarettes left in my pack… How about this—I’ll keep five for myself, and sell you the rest, plus the lighter, for five pounds. How does that sound?”

A man had to keep some supplies for himself, after all.

Those who know, know—this was a smoker’s last, stubborn pride.

The Englishman’s face lit up with joy.

“Of course, that’s fine!”

Truly, when a man finds something he loves, he’s as powerless to resist as any woman.

Twelve cigarettes and a ZIPPO lighter.

He’d actually sold them for five pounds!

Taking the bills—each nearly the size of half a sheet of A4 paper—from the man’s hand, Li Yian felt a surge of excitement.

He finally had money!

At least he hadn’t disgraced the name of a time traveler—on the very day of his arrival, he’d earned his first pot of gold.