Chapter 3: The First Day of the Ming Dynasty

After carefully reading through the text, Chen Xie felt a sense of admiration, thinking that this guy wasn't completely useless. A line of text quickly flashed on the screen: "No more derogatory words, or I will activate the service level reduction program."

"I promise!" Chen Xie panicked, raising his hand in surrender. A smiley face on the screen gradually faded.

Phew! Chen Xie let out a long breath, finally having the chance to examine his luggage. He opened the denim backpack and found that the contents had changed. The box was still there, but the instant noodles were reduced to one pack, the canned food to one can, and there was only one of each type of medicine and supplies. Chen Xie was a bit anxious—was this all there was? What about the other supplies?

Chen Xie's luck wasn't too bad. Just as he was about to use more derogatory words, his watch vibrated, and the screen displayed another line: "Everything is in the bag. You won't see anything else until it's used up. I will now enter hibernation mode. For the next month, if you don't have the intention of returning to modern society, do not disturb my hibernation."

Chen Xie was prepared for the shuttle to act irresponsibly. He touched the gun holster at his waist, thinking of the famous line, "It's still hard." During military training, he had bribed the instructor with a pack of cigarettes and fired a pistol. Hmph!

Feeling that he had regained some dignity, Chen Xie mustered his courage, shouldered the large denim backpack, and walked forward with determination. After a few steps, he realized that the weight was only about 30 to 40 kilograms. How could so many things weigh so little? Never mind!

Chen Xie soon arrived at the carriage. A middle-aged man dressed like a wealthy landowner from a movie, accompanied by two servants in patched short shirts, looked at Chen Xie with surprise rather than suspicion as he approached. The middle-aged man even stepped forward, clasping his hands and saying, "Young sir, greetings!"

Zhang Yao was a well-known local gentry in Dengzhou City, with an estate outside the city. Early in the morning, he received a report from his estate that his father's illness had flared up again. Previously, it was more severe in autumn and winter, but this year it had occurred in mid-summer, and this trip might be to prepare for the worst.

In a hurry to return, he found that the carriage axle had broken halfway. It would take at least ten miles to walk back, and Zhang Yao was definitely not up to it. He had to send a servant on horseback to fetch another carriage. While waiting, he saw a young man in strange attire approaching. At first, he didn't think much of it, assuming the short shirt indicated a common peddler. But as the young man got closer, he realized something was off. The young man had a very special aura—how to describe it? He was extremely confident! And upon closer inspection, his clothes were unusual. The black and white checkered pattern on the short shirt wasn't something that could be easily dyed (like a plaid T-shirt), and the blue jeans were a color he had never seen before in the entire Denglai region, and they looked very durable. His shoes (bought at a seasonal discount from a Xtep store) had a unique design, and the way he walked suggested they were extraordinary. The large bag on his back, similar in color to his pants, had a very peculiar design, and he didn't show any signs of fatigue despite carrying it. Moreover, the young man initially looked like a monk, but upon closer inspection, he was tall, fair-skinned, and very clean, clearly not from a family that ate wild vegetables and cornbread. His attire was also not that of a monk, and his background was unknown.

Seeing this young man approach, Zhang Yao decided to take the initiative.

"Sir, greetings. I am Chen Xie, from the Americas across the ocean, a descendant of the Southern Song Dynasty. May I ask for your esteemed name?" This was the identity Chen Xie had prepared, thinking that this local gentry wouldn't see through it.

"Zhang Yao from Dengzhou. Your Mandarin is excellent." The official language of the Ming Dynasty was Nanjing dialect (some say Fengyang dialect). Chen Xie's hometown was only 200 kilometers from Nanjing, and his accent was influenced by it. To Zhang Yao, a Shandong native, it sounded like official language, though not very standard, just close enough.

"Mr. Zhang, may I ask where we are?" When Chen Xie asked this, Zhang Yao was a bit puzzled. He thought, "You don't look like you just arrived, so how could you not know where you are?" After some thought, he believed he had found the answer. This young man's attire was so unusual that even he felt a bit wary.

"Ha ha, this is Dengzhou Prefecture. Turn around and walk ten miles along the main road, and you'll reach Dengzhou. I am from there and am heading to my estate. Unfortunately, the carriage axle broke halfway, so I'm just waiting." Zhang Yao was curious about Chen Xie's background and wanted to chat to pass the time. This young man clearly had a good education, and everything he carried was unusual, like the watch on his wrist, which Zhang Yao had never seen before. Zhang Yao's words also had a hint of testing, to see Chen Xie's reaction.

"So, this is Dengzhou, which means the Jiaodong Peninsula." Chen Xie's geography was decent. After mumbling to himself, he bowed to Zhang Yao, "Thank you, sir. I will head to Dengzhou."

Seeing him turn to leave, Zhang Yao was sure he had no ulterior motives and called out, "Young sir, wait!" Chen Xie stopped and turned, looking back with a slightly cautious expression. He knew the late Ming Dynasty was chaotic, with many local gentry and bandits colluding to oppress the people. The Chongzhen era was even more chaotic, with the Jurchens and bandits causing widespread turmoil.

"Young sir, if you go like this, you might not be able to enter the city." Zhang Yao explained with a smile. Chen Xie was confused, "Why is that?"

"Young sir, coming from the Americas across the sea, you probably don't have a travel permit. Dengzhou is a military town, and the guards at the city gates will check. Without a permit, you might be mistaken for a spy and arrested. These rough guards will not hesitate to take you for a small fortune." Zhang Yao's words made Chen Xie understand. In the Ming Dynasty, one needed a local introduction letter to travel. Without it, the guards could legally rob you. If you were a local, it might be fine, but Chen Xie was a time traveler, and who would protect him?

"I see, thank you for the advice. But how can I enter Dengzhou?" Chen Xie was a bit flustered. The damn shuttle had dropped him in a military town, and he needed a travel permit to enter the city.

"If you trust me, young sir, you can follow me. When I return, I can take you into the city."

"Would that not put you at risk?" Chen Xie was considerate and didn't want to endanger Zhang Yao. Zhang Yao laughed, "I have some influence in Dengzhou. Don't worry, I will have someone take you to the government office to explain your background. I will vouch for you, ensuring you can move freely in Dengzhou."

At that moment, a carriage approached. Zhang Yao smiled, "The carriage is here. Please get in, and we can talk on the way."

Chen Xie didn't hesitate. Being a newcomer, he was in the dark, and having someone willing to help was a good thing. With a gun in hand, he felt confident that the Ming Dynasty's weapons couldn't stop him. He wasn't reckless but had few options, so he told himself to be cautious and take it one step at a time.

The carriage moved slowly, not because the horse couldn't run, but because the road was terrible, full of potholes. It hadn't been repaired in a long time. On such a dirt road, it would be impossible to travel after rain, as the carriage would likely get stuck.

Inside the carriage, they chatted. Zhang Yao asked about Chen Xie's background, and Chen Xie answered. Fortunately, Chen Xie had prepared well, explaining that he was a descendant of the Southern Song Dynasty, who had traveled thousands of miles to find his roots, enduring countless hardships.

"Returning from the Americas, traveling thousands of miles, facing numerous dangers, all my companions died at sea. When I finally set foot on my homeland, I felt a mix of emotions." Chen Xie concluded, and Zhang Yao listened intently, not detecting any inconsistencies. He didn't know if the Americas existed, but he knew the Western Ocean did. There were even some Portuguese in Dengzhou from Guangdong.

"I see. So, you must know the Portuguese." Zhang Yao made a final test, as Chen Xie's background was still unclear.

"Mr. Zhang, you mean the Portuguese? There are nearly a hundred countries in the Western Ocean, like Spain, Portugal, the Netherlands, England, and France. These foreigners look similar but speak different languages. Generally, English is the main language of communication." Chen Xie bluffed, though he knew English was actually a minor language in Europe, with French being the dominant one. Spain was the current European power, and the British pirates were not significant.

Zhang Yao, who knew nothing about these matters, believed him.

The carriage swayed into a village, and they saw a few emaciated villagers bowing to Zhang Yao. Zhang Yao was very proud, nodding slightly in acknowledgment.

The carriage stopped at a large courtyard, and an old man hurriedly greeted, "Master, the doctor said it's tuberculosis. The old master may not survive this winter."

Zhang Yao was struck as if by lightning, his body trembling, and his ruddy face losing all color.

Seeing his reaction, Chen Xie raised his hand, "Wait, what illness does the old master have? I have some medical knowledge and some remedies that might help."

Zhang Yao's face showed surprise, and he grabbed Chen Xie's hand, like a drowning rat clutching a straw, "The doctor said my father has tuberculosis. Do you have a way to treat it?"

"Tuberculosis? It can be treated. I have streptomycin, but the treatment takes a long time, probably half a year. Even if he recovers, it might not be completely cured and could recur in autumn and winter. In short, he won't die within three to five years."

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End of Chapter 3

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