lt;The misfortune of

Villagers in homespun short shirts carried farm produce past him, casting sideways glances his way, their eyes twinkling with amusement. He could still hear the fading chatter of their conversation.,Lin Zhaoran watched the fading figure, his face etched with a mixture of helplessness and resignation.,This is a fact he had to face! Because of a rare high-speed rail accident, he inexplicably arrived in this unfamiliar era and entered the body of a sixteen-year-old scholar.。