Three Kingdoms, Chapter 1: In Zhenjing County

"Haaang—aaaah!! Honey, when are you coming back!"

"Hah—I don't know. Still fifteen years?"

"Haiing. I miss you so much, honey."

Thud. Thud. Thud.

"Me too, Hye-yun. I'm coming…"

I gripped Hye-yun's hips and drove myself deep, spilling into her.

A pulsing swell along the urethra—then the climax hit.

Satisfaction.

…Huh? Why is everything getting wet?

I looked down in a hurry. Hye-yun's pussy was sealed tight around my cock, holding every drop of her juices and my seed inside.

Still holding her hips, I let out a long sigh.

"Ah… a dream."

January 30th, 170 AD. The day after my birthday.

A flash of light—

I opened my eyes and looked around. Darkness on every side.

The nature of the ancient world.

You could light a lamp after sunset, but it was still dim. And the light pollution of a modern city… I missed it so much that this pitch-black world sometimes frightened me.

Click.

I switched on a battery-powered night-light.

A night-light bought from the Dimensional Shop.

By modern standards the glow would have been disappointing, but here it was a light of the century.

The Dimensional Shop. What would I have done without it…

That first day.

When I fainted and woke again, information about the Dimensional Shop had been poured straight into my head.

Huh? Fencing? Did I absorb the original talent of this body—Ian's? And the Dimensional Shop?

A hundred thousand Mana Gold—how much was that, exactly?

A thousand Mana Gold was roughly a trillion won.

I felt a twinge of regret that A-Mart couldn't be used in my original world.

Same-dimension shops were locked, so A-Mart was off-limits back home.

Dimensional Shop. Search A-Mart—Bacchus, one box.

Buying by the bottle still cost a full copper, so I purchased the three-copper box of Bacchus instead.

I opened the box, pulled out a bottle, and drank.

"Gulp…"

The Dimensional Shop.

Without it I might have gone mad. No—Mental Protection would have kicked in, so I wouldn't even have been allowed to go mad. I would simply have suffered.

I stowed the rest in Subspace, climbed down from the bed, and stripped off my trousers.

Damp fabric in my hands.

I peeled off my underclothes as well, took a clean pair from the drawer beneath the bed, pulled them on, then grabbed trousers from the side drawer and dressed.

"If I hide these… they'll find them, won't they?"

I carefully dropped the trousers and underclothes—sloshing with a full 250 ml of semen—into the laundry basket beside the bed.

The blanket was soaked too, but there was no way to hide that. Awkward.

Sigh. A wet dream at this age…

Combined with my original world I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was twenty-four—long past wet-dream age. In this world I was five—far too early for one.

I pushed up my sleeve and checked my watch. Still five in the morning.

I opened the window. Pitch black in every direction.

Not even the county seat of Shangshan—just a village near a Zhao clan settlement.

Deep countryside. The one comfort was that no one in this village was truly poor.

Clean air.

It was still January; the cold slapped my cheeks. I shut the window again.

"Dimensional Shop. Search Kim's Blacksmith—Girls' Frontline, Volume 2 sheet music."

Kim's Blacksmith.

Oddly enough, it was listed as a Yeouido, Seoul branch—and it sold cold weapons.

Every weapon was graded from A-rank hunter gear down to F-rank. Whether "hunter" meant the game kind or the actual monster-hunting kind, I still didn't know.

They also sold instruments labeled for bards, plus sheet music—even popular songs.

The neighboring storefront.

It seemed to be part of a bookstore's inventory; they stocked screenplays. Whenever I was bored I bought them and read.

Historical screenplays triggered a purchase restriction notice. There had been Three Kingdoms scenarios from the Chinese side, and I'd been thrilled—until the block stopped me cold.

"Hmm. Oooooh baby, baby… kind of childish, isn't it?"

With nothing else to do I kept staring at the sheet music until the notes rose off the page the moment I looked at them.

Catchy music—though I hummed it quietly, given the hour. Lots of repeated phrases, and the lyrics were mostly silly.

"Still, their movies and pop music are way more advanced than ours."

I thought back to the 2000s screenplays I'd read yesterday from Earth-991—The Classic and My Sassy Girl. The Classic had made me think of Hye-yun.

The pure-hearted heroine was a perfect match for her.

The more I read, the more Hye-yun's face overlaid the character. That was probably why she'd shown up in my dream tonight.

I missed her. So much.

Acting-wise, though, My Sassy Girl looked easier. Once I got back to reality I planned to put both scripts out under my own name, pass them to Hye-yun, and make her a star for certain. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Fast.

"Hmm… girl-group songs from this era repeat way too much."

I closed the sheet music again. On the cover, nine women I'd never seen in my life stood in uniform.

Different dimensions. It really hit home. I admired their faces for a moment, then shoved the book back into Subspace.

Already the nineties music and screenplays were piled high in there. One thing was certain: I would never face a plagiarism accusation.

"Back home, a boring trot song can still sit at number one on the charts for five straight weeks…"

A Korean music scene painted almost entirely in trot and ballads.

The year 2000. The so-called millennium dance-music wave. Dance tracks had been cracking the top ten for about three years, but compared to that other world they were kindergarten talent-show level.

And without a Michael Jackson of their own, Black music was fringe—pop songs were bland beyond belief.

Rock was the mainstream, but I didn't like rock, so I'd never cared much about pop either.

Tazza: The High Rollers.

I still had time, so I bought a two-copper screenplay and flipped through it. Genuinely fun. The quality of the writing was night and day compared to home.

My world was wall-to-wall cops-and-gangsters fare. It was almost sad how stuck our films were at that other world's nineties level.

"A girl from Ewha?"

Ewha Women's University, I supposed?

Every single line of dialogue was delicious.

Especially the final gambling match against Agwi—the tension came through from the script alone.

"Whoa… damn. Goni's got some serious balls."

Cock-a-doodle-doo!!!

A rooster crowed; dawn was breaking. Only after reading the screenplay twice did I finally stow it in Subspace with a sigh of admiration and step out of the room.

"Oh my—Young Master, you're awake?"

Mother's maid bowed at a perfect ninety degrees. I nodded.

"Yeah. Linlin. Is Mother up yet?"

"Yes. Madam rose ten minutes ago."

Perhaps because this world had split off from one once ruled by something called Hermaphroditos, even ancient China here used the Western calendar alongside everything else.

Emperor Huan had died in 168, the Jianning era had begun, and the present year was recorded as Jianning 3—170 AD.

They used the twenty-four-hour clock too; Western timekeeping was simply more convenient.

"Hmm. Right. Go into my room and tidy the bed first."

"Yes, Young Master."

She hurried off. I crossed the courtyard toward the inner quarters.

"Young Master, you're awake."

"Yeah. Get back to work. No need for the formalities."

I waved the servants off, glanced up at the two-story main house for a moment, then opened the door and went in.

Busy maids, as expected.

Three of them were bustling about cleaning the living room.

"Skip the bows. Keep working."

They nodded and went back to cleaning. I walked on toward the inner chambers—where only Mother lived now, ever since Father had passed.

Knock knock.

"Who is it?"

"Mother. It's me—An."

"Come in, An."

I opened the door onto a room dressed in red. The bed at the far end was already made, and at the center table Mother sat neatly composed, drinking tea.

"Did you sleep well, Mother?"

"I did. And you?"

"I slept well too."

Then I climbed into her lap and buried myself against her.

A mother's love. If this world had one good thing, it was this: the warm parental affection I'd never received in my original life.

I held her and breathed in her scent.

"You little thing. Isn't it about time you were weaned?"

"Hehe. It's the best thing there is."

A soft snort of laughter.

Mother's hair was bound up neatly.

In mourning, so a silver hairpin instead of gold—but even that single pin thrust into her black topknot-cap was anything but ordinary.

Ancient doesn't automatically mean rustic, I suppose.

She wore white for mourning, yet the black topknot-cap and silver pin suited her perfectly.

A young face that had only just turned twenty.

Growl.

"You little thing. Why does your stomach always rumble the moment you see your mother in the morning? Hoho."

The sound ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠rose from my belly. She untied her sash with a look of fond resignation.

Then she loosened the knot of her undergarment as well, and with a soft slip a pair of breasts—just the right size, about a D-cup—came free.

"Strange. Your birthday was yesterday, so you're past five now… and yet the milk still comes."

It's a benefit from the Constellation—or from Jini, Mother.

Fine by me.

Five years of continuous milk meant I could drink my fill without ever going wanting.

"Thank you for the meal."

"Go on."

I sealed my lips around a pink nipple that hadn't darkened at all and sucked hard.

"Haahm… you little thing."

She stroked my hair gently.

I closed my eyes and savored her scent, the fragrance of her milk, the taste. Rich and nutty beyond belief.

Suck. Suck.

Then a knock.

"Who is it?"

"Linlin, Madam."

Linlin? She'd already finished my room?

Mother stroked my hair and whispered.

"Keep drinking, little one. Come in."

Creeeak.

Pat-pat-pat-pat.

Linlin's quick little footsteps entered. Linlin and the three maids in the living room were trusted women Mother had brought with her when she married; she let them see me nursing without the slightest self-consciousness.

"Madam."

She bowed, then leaned in to whisper against Mother's ear. Even with my sharp hearing I couldn't catch it.

The scent of night flowers?

Why did the smell of semen cling so strongly to Linlin? Had she actually…

I opened my eyes and looked. Something white was smeared at the corner of her mouth. Insane.

"Is that so? Very well. Go on out. Tidy the room I used to use on the first floor."

"Yes, Madam."

As Linlin left she glanced at me—and her eyes were a woman's eyes. She bowed her head and slipped out.

"From today on, little one, you'll stay in the Plum Blossom Room across the inner courtyard of the main house."

"Mmph—what?"

Stroke. Stroke.

What was this? She'd been looking at me with a woman's eyes for four months already, but today expectation shone plain in them as well.

The day she'd been drenched in Chaehyang.

I regretted not stopping her.

Don't tell me… damn it.

"You've grown up, little one. In any case, it's your mother's command—you'll move into the main house, won't you?"

"…Yes… mmph."

The moment I'd been trying to look away from was drawing near. The moment I would see her not as my mother, but as my woman.

And at that thought, my cock—which had never once hardened for her—stood up hard and sudden.

A flinch.

She'd been stroking my stomach and brushed the head; she started for a second. Then her face lit with a bright smile.

"You little thing."

I squeezed my eyes shut, turned my head, and latched onto the other breast, sucking again. She laughed softly and went back to stroking my hair.

"Your mother has no intention of standing in your way. Simply… a concubine… no. We'll think about it later."

The word "concubine," murmured under her breath.

Even without the Yellow Turban Rebellion, I now had another reason to leave this place.

If we had sex in the main house, pregnancy would come eventually.

I'd have to move somewhere entirely different and launder either my identity or hers.

She wasn't the birth mother of my soul, after all. And the moment Chaehyang had soaked her, it had already been over.

I reached up and kneaded her breast.

Surprise in her eyes.

But she only smiled down at me.

"You little thing. Today will be the last day we are mother and son, then."

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"Mmph…"

I nodded. The tender expression on her face slowly shifted into something else—something of a woman.

"You know it can't be during the day, don't you?"

I nodded.

Only four maids were allowed into the main house for now, but the servants were all awake by day. If there were other women around, their sounds could be passed off as someone else's—but in daylight the servants would catch us for certain.

"Mmph… Mother. Even so, I'm going to drink this milk every day."

"Hohoho. Yes, yes. It's yours. My four maids are waiting too—they're all yours as well."

The four maids.

Mother and Father had meant to marry them off at the proper time, but after hearing Hua Tuo's words they'd scrapped the plan.

Seeing how fixated I was on slender women, they'd decided to give the four to me as concubines someday—and had them educated and trained in martial arts for it.

A hard throb.

By modern standards they were all stunning beauties. I was looking forward to it.