Rebelião de An Lushan: Tornei-me o Príncipe Herdeiro Li Heng

Li Ruoyu was jolted awake, feeling as though the world was spinning. Slowly, he sat up and realized he was in a luxurious carriage, which was rattling violently over a pothole-ridden dirt road.

The pounding of hooves and the creaking of the axle mingled together, making his head ache as if it would split open.

“Where am I?” he murmured, rubbing his temples. His mind still lingered on the memory of being publicly berated by the project manager in the cafeteria not long ago.

All because of a minor miscalculation with the materials, the fiery-tempered project manager had lashed out at him in front of everyone, even threatening, “Make this mistake again, and you can pack your bags and leave!”

It wasn’t the first time he’d been scolded; every week he had to endure several humiliating reprimands. Worse still, the project manager’s wife, who oversaw the general affairs department, frequently made trouble for him. Seeing both husband and wife disliked him, the colleagues in the project department followed suit, showing him little kindness, often mocking him.

He came from a remote rural area, had no connections, and no one to help him—everything depended on himself. Because he didn’t know how to play politics or flatter, and stubbornly stuck to principles, despite graduating from a top university, at twenty-eight, after six years of toil on construction sites, he was still a lowly technician at the very bottom.

Stifled—more suffocating than wearing a heavy quilt in midsummer!

Whenever he was scolded, he consoled himself, “Just endure a li