lp. She could only sit helplessly by his bedside, sighing at the cruel twists of fate and praying silently that things wouldn't get any worse.As if in answer to her prayer, the child slowly opened her...June 18, 1815, was destined to be a day etched in history.

On this day, a battle to decide the fate of an empire was being fought in Waterloo, a little-known town in Belgium.

From dawn, the French army has been engaged in a desperate battle with the Anglo-Dutch forces. In just a few hours, tens of thousands have been stained with blood on the battlefield.

Hundreds of cannons roared incessantly, as if conveying the wrath of God. The blood-tinged smoke billowed across the battlefield for dozens of miles, making everything seem unreal.

The hero who claimed to overlook the entire world stood on a high ground beside Rosum Manor, his face expressionless as he gazed down upon his troops. He launched desperate assaults against the British lines time and again.

He watched, unmoved, as tens of thousands of soldiers from all corners of France, resplendent in their fine uniforms, fought to the death for him. In his twenty years of military service, he had long since become accustomed to conquest and glory, to danger and death; such scenes no longer stirred him.

But he still felt restless.

He was the Emperor of the French Empire. He was an unparalleled genius in the eyes of soldiers, leading them to glory and splendor as their commander.

And today, after repeated attacks still failed to break through the lines laid out by British commander Arthur Wellesley, he began to sense that he could not offer victory to France again.

It seems God is punishing him for his previous good fortune.

The emperor paced restlessly.

It is now sunset.

At this moment, a blurry black shadow appeared on the horizon. Although it was approaching quickly and could be confirmed soon, it was an army marching forward.

"Is it Grotius" he muttered.

He and those around him waited with bated breath.

Just this once, good fortune... just this once... The Emperor prayed silently in his heart.

However, just a few minutes later, his limbs grew stiff with disappointment.

That army was fighting under the Prussian eagle banner.

The rolling in of the army, numbering tens of thousands, would be a decisive factor at dusk, when both sides were already exhausted.

And this weight is obviously going to the British side.

Albion's people, you have won!

A voice, unmistakable and absolute, seemed to echo through the heavens.

>

The battle is still raging, but the arrival of Prussian reinforcements will be enough to decide everything.

>

In that very instant, even the most fearless warrior would find himself bound by fear, losing his courage to continue fighting in the midst of terror. As inevitable defeat approached, he could not help but cry out in anguish.

The wails began scattered and sporadic, but quickly found resonance everywhere, ultimately coalescing into an unstoppable torrent, sweeping soldiers away from the enemy in the opposite direction.

At first, officers tried to stop the tide of fleeing soldiers, but they soon realized they were powerless and were even swept up in the retreat themselves.

Although the front line troops were retreating piecemeal, the entire battlefield soon crumbled with them. Even the emperor himself could not stop this rout.

The Emperor and his retinue, along with the advisors, watched all of this unfold on the farm. Younger officers, filled with grief and rage, wept and cursed those cowardly deserters for ruining everything.

But the emperor himself just stood there, his face pale as he watched the tide of retreating soldiers, not saying a word.

He did not blame those who fled.

The French nation has fought for him until now, paying the price of millions of lives. Even at his most desperate hour, they did not abandon him, and still followed him to rise again and come here.

They have already made enough sacrifices, and no one can blame the French for not being loyal and brave.

Emperor Napoleon slowly closed his eyes, savoring the pain that he could no longer escape in this life.

He wasn't suffering for himself. He had already tasted the pain of being a prisoner a year ago, and going through it again wasn't the end of the world. He could bear this kind of pain.

He was suffering for his heir.

...the child he brought into the world to inherit his business, the child he once had high hopes for, the child who once brought him countless joys...

There is nothing left for him.

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The emperor, who had shaken Europe for twenty years and ruled it for ten, let out a helpless sigh.

Please let me know if you have any other text you'd like me to translate!

"Aegron, I'm so sorry, we lost everything!"

Let me know if you have any other text you'd like me to translate!

=====================================

That day's dusk, the bronze sunlight painted the European land a bloody color. Even Schnbrunn Palace in Vienna was no exception.

In a suite within the palace, maids bustled anxiously about, attending to a child lying in bed.

He had golden hair and was a little delirious from a bad cold, with large beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

He was the Agron referred to by the emperor, also the Crown Prince of the French Empire and King of Rome. He was once destined to inherit Napoleon's legacy as Napoleon II.

Now that he is only four years old, he can barely understand the meaning of words like "empire" and "emperor." Of course, he couldn't possibly know that today his father has gambled away the entire empire, and in doing so, robbed him of all the glory that once surrounded him.

He may never see his father again.

When Napoleon first abdicated in 1814, at the "invitation" of Emperor Francis of Austria, the French empress, his daughter Louise, arrived at this Austrian palace with her son on May 21st. From then on, she became a crowned hostage.

From then on, until Napoleon died alone on the island in 1821, there was no more meeting between father and son, husband and wife.

"Aegron Aegron"

The mother, sitting at the head of the bed, anxiously and painfully watched her sick son, occasionally calling out to him.

Since the day before yesterday, her son has had a high fever that won't go down. The doctor said it's even life-threatening.

She was no doctor, powerless to help. She could only sit helplessly by his bedside, sighing at the cruel twists of fate and praying silently that things wouldn't get any worse.

As if in answer to her prayer, the child slowly opened her eyes, gazing at her mother with a bewildered look in her deep blue eyes.

"Aegron, you're finally awake!"

Still theoretically holding the title of Queen, Louisa could no longer care about royal decorum and lightly embraced her son.

Let me know if you have any other text you'd like me to translate!

However, she would never imagine that the soul residing in this child's body had just changed during his high fever.

Perhaps the scorching flames of the Battle of Waterloo were too much for Napoleon's son's soul to bear.

………

I wasn't asleep in the library just a moment ago Why am I suddenly somewhere else when I open my eyes

The confused Chu Ying was stunned to discover that she seemed to have arrived in a completely unfamiliar world. This place was obviously not China.

Am I dreaming Where am I Why am I here

Also, why can I understand their words

Every kind of problem came rushing in, he had no time to think about them anymore, because the lady before him had grabbed his shoulders and was gently shaking him.

...and so on... my body

How did I become a child

He was horrified to discover an even more terrifying truth.

The lingering pain of a high fever told him this wasn't a dream.

“Aegron, are you alright” the lady in her Western finery asked, her face etched with both tears and a surprised smile.

“I… I’m okay.” He replied, his voice laced with confusion and weariness.

The woman's face, starting from surprise, began to contort in some way. She stared in shock at the doctor beside her.

"God, save him! He's talking nonsense now!"

The doctor hurried over and carefully examined the child's body.

“Don’t be alarmed, Madam.” After a moment he turned to Queen Louisa. “He has recovered; he is just not quite used to it yet. He will be fine with another sleep.”

"Are you really alright" Louisa still looked shaken.

"It's alright, look, his temperature is going down now." The doctor smiled to comfort her and then pointed to his forehead.

Queen Louisa raised her right hand and touched her son's forehead.

>

"Thank God..." she breathed a sigh of relief, "it's definitely better."

After she finished speaking, she hugged her son again, "Poor child..."

Chu Ying did not say a word, she just lay there quietly, feeling the warmth of the woman's embrace.

He already realized that the current situation was definitely abnormal - he should be like the protagonist of an online novel, having crossed over.

Then the question is, where did you travel to And what's different about this world

A four-year-old child cannot possibly have any coherent memories or conscious judgments. All they can retrieve in their mind is a collection of fragmented images.

But even with these fragmented memories, he slowly began to piece together some details.

A child's memory contains the Tuileries Palace, Fontainebleau, crowns, and above all, a warmth beyond compare...the embrace of a father.

Father... Oh my God! It's that person!

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In the embrace of Her Majesty the Queen, Chu Ying opened her eyes wide and stared blankly at the gilt decorations on the ceiling.

As an amateur European history enthusiast, he naturally knew what all these details represented and understood his current status.

The more important issue is that, although the specific date is unknown now, "himself" is currently 4 years old, which means this is the disastrous year of 1815 for the Bonaparte family.

Roman King, you and your father have just lost everything...

As soon as she thought of this, Chu Ying closed her eyes and let out a silent sigh, not knowing if it was for the child or for herself.

The Roman emperor's name was Napoleon-Franois-Joseph-Charles-Bonaparte (Napoleon-Franois -Joseph-Charles-Bonaparte). Emperor Napoleon also gave him the nickname Aiglon, which means "young eagle".

After arriving in Austria, on July 22, 1818, his maternal grandfather, Emperor Francis I of Austria, issued a decree cancelling his Napoleonic name and replacing it with the Germanized "Franz" as his new name; simultaneously, he revoked his titles of Roman King and all other honors, instead bestowing upon him the title of Duke of Lechstedt.

> Let me know if you have any other text you'd like me to translate!

Therefore, in different time periods and situations, the characters will address the protagonist with different names. Please do not be surprised by this.e me to translate!"Aegron, I'm so sorry, we lost everything!"Let me know if you have any other text you'd like me to translate!=====================================That day's dusk, the bronze sunlight...