I just broke up with my boyfriend and then I transmigrated into the world of "The Lost Tomb&quo

Ling Xiao really wanted to cough; his nasal cavity was filled with the scent of grass mixed with dew. He tried hard to open his eyes, and it took him a while to finally break through the rosy dawn sky—ochre-red clouds were spreading from the horizon, dyeing the distant grassland dotted with yurts a flowing amber color.

He turned his head with difficulty toward the sound. A woman in a dark blue robe was holding the boy's hand and talking to him. The boy, who looked about seven years old, was wearing a white wool vest, and a half-wilted golden lotus flower was pinned to his braid. He looked at Ling Xiao, his glassy eyes filled with confusion.

"Is he a foreigner?" A rather childish voice rang out again. Perhaps because this was the grasslands of 1900, Ling Xiao's clothing was simply not in line with popular aesthetics; at least here, no one would wear black overalls with zippers.

"Don't be rude, Xiao Qi," the woman scolded softly, but her gaze froze when it fell on the tattoo spreading across Ling Xiao's neck. It seemed to be a pattern of spider lilies, growing haphazardly yet in a seemingly orderly fashion. The ink-like color seeped into his pale skin as if it were still wet.

Ling Xiao forced a smile, trying to explain but only managing a hoarse, breathy sound. He tried to get up, but his legs gave way and he fell back down, his head hitting the grass. The moment his head struck the ground, countless golden flashes of light exploded before his eyes. It seemed this fall was quite serious.

"Mother, he seems to be injured!" The boy, called Xiao Qi, broke free from the woman's hand and squatted down beside Ling Xiao, his warm little hand gently touching his forehead. "It's so hot!" The child's voice was filled with panic. The woman quickly stepped forward, took off the wool shawl from her waist, and carefully placed Xiao Qi behind Ling Xiao's head. Her fingertips trembled violently when they touched the metal compass peeking out from under the hem of Ling Xiao's shirt.

"Take him back to the yurt." The woman's voice was calm and unwavering as she called out in the direction behind her. Several servants who were nearby ran over. Xiao Qi immediately crouched down, trying to help Ling Xiao up like an adult, but almost fell over due to her lack of strength. Fortunately, the servants arrived in time and took him back. Ling Xiao gritted his teeth and, with the help of the two of them, managed to get up. As he staggered, he caught a glimpse of dust rising from the edge of the grassland in the distance, and several fine horses were galloping towards them.

The yurt was filled with the scent of milk and mugwort. Ling Xiao collapsed onto a thick wool blanket, watching the woman apply crushed herbs to his burning forehead. Xiao Qi knelt beside him, her eyes glued to the mechanical watch on his wrist. The sound of the gears turning on the dial seemed magical, drawing the child to reach out and touch it. "It's a metal lump that moves by itself!" Xiao Qi exclaimed, her eyes brimming with curiosity.

"Don't touch the guests' things." The woman gently patted the child's hand, then asked in accented Mandarin, "Where are you from? Why are you here all of a sudden?"

Ling Xiao licked his chapped lips, struggling to organize his thoughts: "I don't quite remember either, my mind is all foggy." Before he could finish speaking, the sound of rapid hoofbeats suddenly came from outside the yurt, followed by the heavy curtain being lifted, letting in a gust of cold wind carrying bits of grass.

"Mother! I heard Father's voice!" Little Qi seemed a little scared and rushed out the door immediately, I don't know where she went.

Ling Xiao struggled to sit up. Through the gap in the curtain, he saw a burly Mongolian man dismount, the curved sword at his waist gleaming coldly in the sunlight. The boy named Xiao Qi didn't run to the man's side either.

The man dismounted and his gaze swept over Ling Xiao inside the yurt like a hawk's. He approached with a menacing gait, seemingly already aware of everything that had just happened.

"Is he a foreigner?" The man's voice was deep and rumbling like thunder.

"No, he was speaking Chinese. Maybe he was a member of the Boxers. His head was scrambled from the fall and he can't remember anything."

The woman briefly recounted what had happened again, but the man's eyes remained wary. Ling Xiao forced himself to stand up, trying to appear harmless, and took off his mechanical watch, handing it to the man, saying, "I really can't remember, and I don't have anything valuable. I saw that the child really liked this watch, so I'll give it to him as a gift. In return, could you let me stay for two days? I'll leave as soon as I feel better."

The man didn't speak, but he still took Ling Xiao's watch and examined it carefully, his brows furrowing deeply.