Chapter 3

It was once said on the internet that an adult would die if they didn't drink water for three days or eat for seven days. However, after Zhu Zilong was transported through time and fell unconscious in a cave by the seaside, he woke up and started moving around, yet felt no hunger at all. On the contrary, his abdominal muscles even developed some small muscle groups. The reason for this, of course, was that the liquid inside the dragon egg provided him with initial energy. Especially on his forehead and eyes, where he had the most contact with the dragon egg's liquid, some kind of mutation might occur.

Looking ahead, he saw ancient vehicles and people moving along the dirt road leading to the village and town. Zhu Zilong mustered his courage, shouldered his large travel bag, and walked over. A four-wheeled cart was stopped on the dirt road, apparently because the road was too poor and one of the wheels had accidentally sunk into a small pit. Several people were now pushing the cart with great effort. The cart was pulled by a mule, which aligned with the historical fact that horses were scarce during the Ming Dynasty.

Zhu Zilong understood the situation and stepped forward to help push the cart. In an instant, when Zhu Zilong lent a hand (his strength had increased significantly), he almost instantly pushed the cart out of the small mud pit. A person dressed in fine clothing got out of the cart, glanced at Zhu Zilong's modern attire, thought for a few seconds, then smiled and said, "Brother, thank you very much. May I ask where you come from and where you are headed?"

To be honest, Zhu Zilong, as a modern person, felt very uncomfortable with this way of speaking in classical Chinese. However, because he had read many novels, including historical and military ones, he could roughly guess the meaning.

He replied with a somewhat awkward bow, "Greetings, sir. I am Zhu Zilong, from the other side of the ocean, a descendant of the Song Dynasty. Seeing your cart stuck, I came to help. May I ask your name?"

"Zhang Jingzheng from Yantai. Young man, you come from overseas, yet you speak such good Mandarin. Impressive!" the man in fine clothing replied.

(Mandarin was originally the term for the official standard language. In early times, it was called "Yayan," during the Ming and Qing dynasties it was called "Guanhua," in 1909 it began to be called "Guoyu," and in 1956 it was called "Putonghua" on the mainland, while "Guanhua" came to refer to "Guanhua dialect.")

"Mr. Zhang, may I ask where we are and where this road leads?" Zhu Zilong's eyes lit up, realizing his use of ancient language was correct, and he continued.

"Ha ha, this place is not far from Yantai Prefecture. I am from there and am heading to my own estate. Unfortunately, the cart got stuck in a mud pit halfway. If you don't mind, you can come along, Mr. Zhu." Zhang Jingzheng replied.

Although he was curious about Zhu Zilong's strange modern attire, he believed Zhu Zilong's claim of being from overseas. The Ming Dynasty had a maritime ban, but by the later period, it was largely ignored. Many merchants secretly went to sea, and as long as no one reported them to the authorities with solid evidence, they were generally safe. Even if there was evidence, it could be ignored if one had good relations with the officials.

In general, the later Ming emperors were less involved in governance, the country was poor, but the merchants were rich, and there were constant political struggles.

"Ah, so this is Yantai, which means we are in the Jiaodong Peninsula. Thank you, sir. I will head to Yantai Prefecture." Zhu Zilong bowed, picked up his travel bag, and was about to leave.

"Mr. Zhu, wait a moment!" Zhang Jingzheng suddenly called out.

Zhu Zilong turned around, puzzled, and looked at Zhang Jingzheng, not understanding.

"Mr. Zhu, if you go to Yantai Prefecture like this, you might not be able to enter the city," Zhang Jingzheng said with a smile.

Zhu Zilong scratched his head, as if he had just thought of something, but still asked, "Why do you say that, sir?"

"Ha ha, Mr. Zhu, coming from America across the sea, you probably don't have a travel permit. Yantai is now a military town, and the city gates are frequently checked by soldiers. Without a travel permit, you might be mistaken for a spy from the East. They don't listen to reason when it comes to suspicious people," Zhang Jingzheng explained with a smile.

Zhu Zilong thought about the many historical novels and ancient books he had read and finally understood. Indeed, during the Ming Dynasty, there was a rule that anyone traveling more than a hundred miles from their home needed a travel permit issued by the local government. Without a permit or if it didn't match, they would be punished according to the law.

A travel permit was essentially a certificate for leaving or returning to one's hometown, similar to the temporary residence permits and letters of introduction in modern 21st-century China.

What a hassle!

Without an introducer or a letter of introduction, one would have to bribe people or rely on luck to travel freely. But Zhu Zilong had just arrived in the Ming Dynasty with no money and no acquaintances. What could he do?

Looking at Zhang Jingzheng, who was still smiling, Zhu Zilong had an idea. Zhang Jingzheng wouldn't have kindly warned him without a reason, clearly having a good impression of him or some ulterior motive. Why not take advantage of this?

If he hinted, Zhang Jingzheng would likely help him, considering he had just helped him with the cart.

"Thank you for your advice, sir. I don't have a travel permit. How can I enter Yantai City?" Zhu Zilong asked, pretending to be a civilized overseas student and bowing again.

"Ha ha, if you trust me, Mr. Zhu, you can follow me, and I'll take you into the city," Zhang Jingzheng said, as Zhu Zilong had expected, wanting to do him a favor in return for his help.

"Thank you, sir!" Zhu Zilong bowed again.

Zhang Jingzheng smiled, "Please get in the cart, and we can talk on the way."

Zhu Zilong, seeing his plan succeed and that someone was willing to take him along, didn't hesitate.

The cart moved slowly, not because the horse couldn't run, but because the road was terrible, full of potholes, like the muddy roads in rural areas just after the founding of New China. On such a road, even a motorcycle would likely fly into the air or fall over if you revved the engine.

The slow pace of the cart naturally led to some conversation between the passengers. Zhang Jingzheng, having met a compatriot from afar, was naturally very interested in the distant lands. However, whenever he asked Zhu Zilong, Zhu Zilong would casually answer, which still amazed Zhang Jingzheng, who had never been overseas.

As they became more familiar, Zhu Zilong began to ask Zhang Jingzheng about the Ming Dynasty and the local area, focusing on customs and avoiding any taboos. They chatted enthusiastically.

After a couple of hours, the cart arrived at a large village. Along the way, they saw a few emaciated villagers bowing to Zhang Jingzheng's cart. Zhang Jingzheng, sitting in the window, nodded arrogantly, acknowledging them.

Zhu Zilong thought to himself that his boasting during the conversation and his modern attire had made a good impression on Zhang Jingzheng. This was probably the true attitude of the landlord class or scholars towards the common people.

When the cart stopped in front of a large courtyard, a young boy of a few years old rushed out and threw himself into Zhang Jingzheng's arms, crying, "Father, Grandfather is very ill, the doctor said!"

Zhang Jingzheng, who had been chatting with Zhu Zilong, was struck as if by lightning, his body shaking, his face pale, and he almost fainted.

At that moment, a doctor also came out of the courtyard.

Zhang Jingzheng quickly grabbed the doctor and asked about his father's condition. Zhu Zilong listened carefully and clearly understood everything.

From the description of Zhang Jingzheng's father's condition, it didn't seem too serious. It sounded dangerous, but it was just tetanus. Fortunately, before he was transported through time, Zhu Zilong had a small medical kit in his travel bag, which included a tetanus antitoxin injection.

Suddenly, an idea flashed in Zhu Zilong's mind. He raised his hand and said to Zhang Jingzheng, "I have some medical knowledge and a few remedies that might help. I understand the condition and am confident I can help. You can rest assured, Mr. Zhang."

"Mr. Zhu, do you really mean it?"

Desperate, Zhang Jingzheng, hearing Zhu Zilong's words, grabbed his arm as if it were a lifeline.

The doctor, standing nearby, looked at Zhu Zilong with disbelief.