Chapter Four: Traveling Back and Forth, Still Standing in the Same Place

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“Mm, mm, mm-hmm!” Just as Zhang Qian was about to deliver a heavy blow to the Blue Round Hat with his knee, the Black Round Hat suddenly began to cough loudly.

A series of coughs immediately saved the Blue Round Hat doctor’s nose. The latter quickly realized his impropriety, swiftly moved his hand away from the wound near Zhang Qian’s thigh, and awkwardly clasped his fists in apology.

“Forget it!” Zhang Qian could see the man was trying to express an apology, so he shook his head resentfully. Then, he struggled to shake himself free, pulling his arms from the four “cloth headscarves.” He bent down and picked up his backpack.

Whether the Blue Round Hat’s actions had been intentional or accidental, Zhang Qian wanted nothing more to do with him. He was new here, unfamiliar with the place and its people. If the man really had some peculiar hobby as Zhang Qian had feared, he’d be in trouble!

It was not unreasonable for Zhang Qian to be sensitive. Growing up in an orphanage, he had encountered more malice than most could imagine. If not for his vigilance, he would have fallen victim to those two-faced predators many times over. This sensitivity had allowed him to escape their clutches time and again.

“Sorry!” Sensing Zhang Qian’s embarrassment, the Blue Round Hat doctor’s expression became even more awkward. He clasped his fists again and spoke loudly.

Zhang Qian frowned at him, put his backpack down, and respectfully saluted everyone around him. “Thank you all for your righteous help. I have urgent matters to attend to, so I’ll take my leave. Farewell!”

He picked up his bag filled with stone fragments and staggered away, fearing that if he lingered, the Blue Round Hat might pull some new trick.

“Sorry!” The Blue Round Hat grew anxious and quickly reached out to stop him, explaining loudly.

“What do you want?” The gesture made Zhang Qian’s hair stand on end. He stood his ground, glared fiercely, and his muscles tensed once more.

He had not yet recovered from his exhaustion, but he refused to sit idly by. If the man persisted, Zhang Qian would rather risk being beaten by the “cloth headscarves” and smash the Blue Round Hat’s head with his heavy bag, just as he had with the vicious wolf.

“Sorry!” The Blue Round Hat was startled by Zhang Qian’s reaction, quickly withdrew his hand, and explained with blushing cheeks.

Zhang Qian neither understood nor cared for his words. Shaking his head, he started to walk away. The Blue Round Hat tried to stop him again but, fearing further misunderstanding, waved his hands anxiously, shouting apologies.

“Sorry!” The Black Round Hat, seeing things escalating, knew the misunderstanding would only deepen. He jumped down from his mount, took a round leather pouch from the saddle, and handed it to Zhang Qian.

“Is this for me? What is it?” Zhang Qian instinctively reached out to accept it, asking loudly.

“Sleep, sleep!” The Black Round Hat explained loudly, then raised his hand to his mouth and tilted his head back as if drinking.

“Sleep? Why don’t you go sleep with your father!” Zhang Qian frowned, eyes wide with anger, then realized he had misunderstood the man’s good intentions. The pouch contained water, or perhaps some kind of drink. He could open it and see.

He placed his backpack at his feet, hesitated as he untied the pouch, glanced at the damp medicinal powder on his thigh, deliberated for a moment, then finally raised the pouch to his lips and took a small sip.

The liquid touched his tongue and throat, silently flowed down his esophagus and into his stomach.

It tasted slightly sour, with a hint of sweetness. Surprised, Zhang Qian took another small sip. A fermented grain aroma quickly filled his nose, and a gentle warmth slowly rose from his stomach.

It wasn’t for sleep—it was a kind of alcoholic water! Damn the local pronunciation!

No, it wasn’t quite alcoholic—a kind of sweet fermented rice brew!

Zhang Qian had tasted such brews before, but none as concentrated as this one.

Yet at this moment, it felt like nectar and ambrosia.

Made from millet, this brew was far higher in sugar than alcohol.

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He had just expended all his energy—what he needed most now was sugar!

Gratefully, Zhang Qian glanced at the Black Round Hat and decisively gulped the drink down.

After three or five mouthfuls, his legs ceased trembling. After seven or eight, his arms regained half their strength. As half the pouch went down, his chest no longer felt tight, his scalp stopped tingling, and his back began to straighten.

“Sorry!” His hearty drinking drew cheers from the crowd and quickly brought him closer to everyone.

“Sorry, sorry!” The Blue Round Hat took the opportunity to step forward, lifted the fabric of his own trousers, rubbed it repeatedly, then pointed to the wound on Zhang Qian’s thigh, face flushing as he raised his thumb. “Impressive, this!”

“You mean the denim fabric?” Zhang Qian understood the gesture, his gaze flickering to the wound on his thigh. Suddenly, realization dawned.

He had falsely accused the Blue Round Hat! The man’s interest had been in the fabric, not his flesh—in the denim. More precisely, the canvas used to make the jeans!

If it had been the cloth of the others, it would have been shredded under the wolf’s claws. But his jeans had only three tears, effectively shielding him from most of the attack.

“This, this!” The Blue Round Hat doctor, cleared of suspicion, danced with joy.

“Jeans, pants for cattle herders, made of canvas!” Feeling guilty for his suspicion, Zhang Qian smiled as he handed the pouch back to the Black Round Hat, pointed to his jeans, and explained loudly.

“Sturdy!” The Black Round Hat admired the durability of the jeans with a thumbs-up, ignoring the rest of Zhang Qian’s explanation.

“Worn for herding cattle, hence called jeans!” Now that he was certain the Blue Round Hat was not a “pervert,” Zhang Qian no longer rushed to leave. He squatted, grabbed a stone, and drew a herder and a cow. Pointing first to the herder’s pants, then to his own jeans, he explained, “For herding, worn by herders, strong!”

“Sturdy!” Both Round Hats and the cloth headscarves finally understood, raising their thumbs in unison.

“Canvas!” Encouraged, Zhang Qian drew a sailboat and pointed to its sail, then to his jeans’ fabric. “Canvas!”

“Fanbo!” The crowd nodded, faces full of enlightenment.

“Me, myself!” Zhang Qian drew a small figure pointing to its own chest, mimicking the gesture. “Me! Myself!”

“Zhai Xia!” They each pointed to their chests and corrected him in chorus.

“You!” Zhang Qian, growing confident, drew another figure pointing at someone else.

“Ru!” They pointed at Zhang Qian, correcting him with genuine excitement.

“Me, Zhang Qian!” With introductions made, communication would only improve. With new confidence, Zhang Qian pointed to himself again.

“Sorry!” The crowd stepped back, clasping fists in respect.

“Sorry, no!” Frantically shaking his hands, Zhang Qian tried again to introduce himself. “Sorry, no, Zhang Qian!”

“Sorry!” They again clasped their fists, refusing to repeat his name.

“Sorry? You’re all sorry, your whole family is sorry!” Zhang Qian cursed inwardly, helpless against them.

“Sorry!” Seeing Zhang Qian relent, the crowd assumed he had accepted their term, growing pleased and bursting into a string of local language.

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“Heavens!” Zhang Qian beat his chest in despair.

This was surely the most tragic transmigration ever—no wise elder, no system, not even the local language!

Heavens, just strike me down with lightning!

“Boom!” A distant thunder rumbled!

Rain was coming—the sun shower before sunset. Clouds rolled over the mountain, but overhead the sky remained clear.

“Heavens, damn your ancestors!” The thunder spurred his defiance. He cursed loudly, squatted, and used a stone to write boldly on the ground: “Myself, me, Zhang Qian!”

The cloth headscarves were startled, shouting and retreating, their eyes all turning to the Black Round Hat.

The man with the strange black hat strode forward, squatted, and looked at the words on the ground in surprise. “Sorry?”

Realizing this was inefficient, he picked up another stone, squatted opposite Zhang Qian, and wrote in bold strokes—all in authentic traditional characters: “Master can write? Simplified characters? Master’s name is Zhang Qian, or is that your monastic name? I am Ren Cong of Chang’an, greetings!” (Note 1)

Communication at last, even if the characters were traditional and more ornate than usual!

For a moment, Zhang Qian felt almost ecstatic.

Suppressing the urge to burst out laughing, he continued, writing with the stone: “I am not a master. My surname is Zhang, given name Qian. Thank you, Brother Ren, for your righteous help.”

“Not a master? Brother Zhang’s hair?” Ren Cong struggled to decipher the message, guessing as best he could, then replied in careful traditional characters. “Forgive my impertinence, Brother Zhang. No need for thanks—I arrived too late, did nothing, cannot claim credit!”

“May I ask Brother Ren, where is this place?” Zhang Qian’s ability to read traditional script far surpassed Ren Cong’s comprehension of simplified. As soon as Ren finished, Zhang Qian shifted the topic to what he urgently needed to know.

“This is, of course, Shanyin Village. Did Brother Zhang lose his way?” With a short reply, Ren Cong was quick to decipher and respond.

“Shanyin Village? Shanyin means north of the mountain? I have indeed lost my way and do not know where I am!” Learning from earlier mistakes, Zhang Qian kept his sentences short, imitating classical prose.

“Shanyin certainly means north of the mountain! The roads here are easy to find. Brother Zhang, head east for three or four hundred steps, and you’ll see the gate of Xiangji Temple! The Ziwu Road is just below the gate. If you walk to the middle of the road, you’ll see Chang’an!” Ren Cong, puzzled by Zhang Qian’s words, wrote more hurriedly.

“Xiangji Temple? Impossible! Heavens, are you done playing with me?” Zhang Qian exclaimed, standing up with disbelief, scanning the surroundings.

After all that, he had ended up beside Xiangji Temple!

This was exactly where the Chang’an University Town (Southern Xi’an University Town) stood!

Heavens, just strike me down with lightning!

Note 1: Simplified characters are informal abbreviations used for convenience since the Wei and Jin dynasties, known as simplified script.
Note 2: “Lost the way” means to be lost.
Note 3: Xiangji Temple was built in the early Tang dynasty, standing relatively tall and grand, serving as a prominent landmark in ancient times.