Chapter 6

However, Hong Tao didn’t mind. He also intended to use these Tanka people to establish a foothold, a mutual exploitation. Otherwise, why would they provide him with food and a place to sleep? According to Hong Tao’s plan, he would first find a place to settle down, figure out the era, and think about his future development path. Then he would bid farewell to these Tanka people and go his own way. Could they really hold him back? With his physique, he could take down four or five of them, and if he really wanted to run, who could catch him? A well-nourished modern person, even a quasi-professional athlete, compared to the ancient people in terms of overall physical fitness, they would all be at a disadvantage.

But Chen Ming'en’s words surprised and deeply moved Hong Tao. Not only did he not intend to take advantage of him, but he also wanted to lend him money to return home. Given their economic level, this amount of money was not easily available. For a stranger who had only been with them for a few hours, to give everything they had, what a good person! Moreover, Hong Tao had no intention of returning home. Even if his hometown was really in Australia, he couldn’t go back. With the current level of navigation, sailing from the South China Sea to Southeast Asia was a matter of life and death, let alone from Southeast Asia to Australia. No matter how much money was offered, Hong Tao wouldn’t go; it would be pure suicide!

“Old Mr. Chen... We call people of your generation 'Old Mr. Chen' where I come from, don’t take it to heart. I don’t want to go back home. I’m afraid of encountering another maritime disaster, and there’s no one left in my hometown. I used the family property left by my parents to buy goods, even selling the house and land. If I go back, I’ll only be begging. I still want to stay here and fish. I don’t know how to do much else, and I’ve been fishing since I was a child. Reading and writing are not rare where I come from, and I can teach them to read and do arithmetic. I won’t charge, just provide meals, how about that?” Hong Tao always lied to good people; he had to, sometimes telling the truth was more vicious than cursing.

“Have you really thought it through? I’ll adopt you as a godson. Once the ceremony is done, you’ll be a Tanka person!” Chen Ming'en didn’t expect that after explaining the situation, Hong Tao still wanted to stay. For a literate person, being a Tanka person was worse than begging. In terms of social status, a beggar could still have a chance to turn things around, but a Tanka person never could.

“Godson means adopted son, right?” Hong Tao didn’t expect Chen Ming'en to want to adopt him as a godson. In the modern world, the terms 'godfather' and 'godmother' had a bit of a derogatory meaning, but before the liberation, recognizing a godson was very serious. An adopted son was almost the same as a biological son, except for inheritance rights.

“You’re really dumb! Just call me Uncle Chen from now on!” Bozhu, who had somehow joined them, squatted behind Chen Ming'en and suddenly interjected.

Having arrived in the Song Dynasty for less than a day, Hong Tao now had a godfather, a godbrother, and a large family. All he needed to do was kneel at the bow of the boat, bow three times to the incense burner, and then bow three times to Chen Ming'en. The ceremony was extremely simple. Hong Tao felt it was worth it; now he had a family, which greatly increased his chances of survival. As for the godfather, well, a godfather is a godfather. Consider it his luck to have such a godson, waiting to enjoy a good life. Regardless of the era or how much historical knowledge he had left, Hong Tao felt he would always live better than the ordinary people of the time. Knowledge is power.

That’s what he said, but what kind of knowledge could be converted into productivity under the current conditions? Lying on Chen Ming'en’s boat deck, Hong Tao tossed and turned, unable to sleep. Financial knowledge was out of the question; there were no banks or stock markets, and even the chairman of the Federal Reserve would be useless here.

Metallurgy and materials science were his specialty, but unfortunately, most of the knowledge had been returned to his teachers. Apart from some simple experiments he remembered from his internship, he hadn’t worked in this field. However, there were no conditions for it now. Not only were various chemical reagents unavailable, but there was also no equipment for metal processing. When he was in school, his teachers taught him how to work in that era, not how to start from scratch. Even if they had taught him, where would he find iron ore, coal, and labor? He couldn’t do everything himself, could he?

Satellite communications, which he was most familiar with, were also the most useless. Audio equipment and computer knowledge were also his strengths, but they were equally useless. Without electricity, they were just decorations, not even as useful as a stick. Filming TV shows, movies, writing songs, and singing were the same; without electricity, they were all useless.

Beauty and hairdressing could be done, even without scissors, hairdryers, and cold wave solutions. However, people at this time didn’t go for such things. If he gave a girl a big wave and a smoky eye makeup, they would both be paraded through the streets and then thrown into the sea.

Hong Tao had traveled through time twice, and this was his third time, but he had never felt like a useless person. Now he finally realized that without the support of modern products, he was indeed a big waste.

He couldn’t make guns, cannons, glass, soap, or paper. He knew the formulas and manufacturing techniques for some things, but without the chemical and metallurgical industries, knowing them was useless. There was no place to find the raw materials.

Writing poetry, lyrics, and plays was too difficult for a science student. He hadn’t understood classical Chinese well since middle school. Besides, how could he write poetry or lyrics for people when he didn’t know how to write traditional characters, use a brush, or speak the language and terms of this era fluently? What language did people in the Southern Song Dynasty speak? Mandarin? Jiang-Zhe dialect? They all spoke the official language, but who had heard a recording of it? How was it spoken?

Finding no suitable skills in his professional knowledge, Hong Tao turned over on the hard boat deck and started thinking about the skills he played with. Gao Qiu became a prime minister because of his skill in kicking a leather ball. Could he do something similar with table tennis, badminton, or basketball to get a position? Even marbles would do; his skill in hitting marbles from 4 to 5 meters away with perfect accuracy had once made him the king of the street!

If this developed, he could become a private coach for a high-ranking official in the Song Dynasty, and all the women in the household would be his. He might not look great, but he had a good physique. Being tall hid a hundred flaws, and finding someone over 185 cm tall in the Song Dynasty was not easy.

“Sigh... It’s a bit difficult!” Hong Tao sucked in his saliva and turned over again. The boat deck was really hard, where are you, mattress?

He tossed and turned until the sky outside was dimly lit, but he still couldn’t sleep. It might be because his mind was too active, or because time travel required adjusting to a new time zone, but the most likely reason was that the boat deck was too hard. Lying on his side, his thigh bone and shoulder hurt, and lying on his back, his coccyx and shoulder blades hurt.

However, this night wasn’t wasted. Hong Tao found two relatively reliable skills from his mixed bag of skills that could help him survive in this era: sailing and fishing!