The Ming King Fell, Buddhism in Peril!

"Aimin, Aimin, wake up!"

"Teacher Han! Teacher Han!"

"Stop shouting and get Teacher Han to the hospital!"

"Who knows if he broke any bones? We can't move him carelessly. We should call the hospital!"

Han Aimin was jolted awake by the overlapping cries. Opening his eyes, he saw familiar yet unfamiliar faces gathered around him, each one looking more anxious than the last. Then a burning pain shot through his elbows and knees.

"Aimin's awake. Make some room." A man in his forties sighed in relief and anxiously asked, "Aimin, are you all right?"

Unless he was dreaming, the man before him should be Zhong Jianyu, his former colleague and big brother. He had transferred to 985 Factory from the military. Since he knew nothing about technology and the factory had no shortage of political cadres, they had assigned him to the Children's Middle School as a politics teacher.

Behind Zhong Jianyu stood a young woman in a Floral Plaid Spring and Autumn Shirt. Her surname was Liu, and her name was Liu Pingping. She was both a 985 Factory descendant and third sister's classmate from kindergarten through middle school. After graduating from high school and failing to get into college, she had been assigned to the Children's Middle School as an English teacher. However, she was neither a cadre nor a formal employee, but a "collective worker" whose salary and benefits were one level below those of formal employees...

"Aimin, look at my hand!" Zhong Jianyu had no idea what Han Aimin was thinking. He raised a finger and moved it before Han Aimin's eyes.

The searing pain in his elbows and knees, the familiar faces before him, and the familiar melody of the Sixth Set of Radio Exercises outside made Han Aimin realize that this was no dream.