Chapter 2: The Wooden Kite
Hearing an answer that was both unexpected yet strangely logical, Ding Songyan felt a mix of absurdity and doubt. A layer of cold sweat broke out across his back.
Should he be glad he didn’t have to change his name, or should he suspect that such a coincidence hid some grand, terrifying secret? Or perhaps, having the same name and dying at the same time was a core requirement for a successful transmigration? Did the original Ding Songyan transmigrate to his world? Hiss, can we swap back? Thoughts raced through Ding Songyan’s mind as he mentally flipped through the opening chapters of every transmigration novel he had ever read.
He was now certain that this body had originally been dead. In a sense, he was a soul inhabiting a corpse. That would explain why he couldn't find a single fragment of memory, didn't recognize anyone around him, and knew nothing of what had happened.
Ding Songyan looked up again at the cobweb-covered rafters and dusty roof, then scanned the crumbling walls and broken statues. He was trying to find a hidden camera, to drag out a mastermind who would tell him this was all just The Truman Show.
That was the answer he wanted most.
It was his last hope.
However, he found nothing.
"Second Brother, should we... head home first?" After confirming that her brother truly remembered nothing, Ding Qingyan’s mood turned quite somber.
"Okay," Ding Songyan responded in a low voice.
The two of them stepped through the collapsed gate one after the other. Ding Qingyan stopped in the open space before the temple. She tilted her head back, cupped her hands around her mouth, and called out loudly:
"Found him! I found him!"
Who is she talking to? Ding Songyan looked up at the sky. He saw only a few drifting clouds, stained red by the setting sun, making the grayish-blue sky look exceptionally vast.
Just as the thought crossed his mind, a massive shadow spread from behind them, quickly blotting out the fading glow of the sun.
Immediately after, a strange, giant bird descended from the sky. It landed before Ding Songyan and Ding Qingyan, kicking up a mist of dust from the ground.
Ding Songyan’s eyes widened.
A... a wooden bird?
Was that thing just flying in the sky?
Is there a drone hidden inside it?
Or is it like those "flying swords" I used to see on video sites?
What astonished Ding Songyan so much was a bird crafted entirely of wood. It was enormous, comparable in size to a large helicopter from his previous world. There was a cockpit on its back, though it wasn't enclosed; he could see a round rudder, levers, and other components. Some parts had a metallic luster, while others showed the natural grain of wood. The giant bird had a very sharp beak and painted red eyes, giving it a strangely majestic and intimidating appearance.
Once the wooden wings stopped flapping and the dust settled, a figure climbed out of the cockpit and jumped down from the giant bird.
As the strange flying object descended, Ding Qingyan had already covered her eyes with one hand and pinched her nose with the other, a motion so practiced it seemed she had done it a thousand times.
Now, she glanced at Ding Songyan and introduced the newcomer in a muffled voice:
"This is a Wooden Kite Carriage from the Qigu people.
"Qu Sanlang from Baoping Alley heard you were missing and volunteered to help search."
Qigu people... I feel like I've heard that name somewhere... Ding Songyan studied Qu Sanlang as the man came hopping toward them.
The figure, dressed in blue short-form martial attire, was indeed different from ordinary people. He had three eyes on his face, with the extra one located between his brows. It was also horizontal, though currently closed. His lower body had only one leg positioned in the center, so he had to move by hopping.
Two leather belts were wrapped around Qu Sanlang's waist, hung with a paring knife, a small hammer, and various tools ranging from crude to exquisite.
Other than that, his appearance wasn't much different from a normal person. He was reasonably handsome with a bronze complexion.
After glancing at Ding Songyan, Qu Sanlang turned to Ding Qingyan with a fawning smile.
"Sister Qingyan, you found Erlang?
"Shall I take you both back in the Wooden Kite Carriage?"
I don't want to ride that; it looks unsafe... Ding Songyan rejected the idea mentally while trying to think of an excuse.
Ding Qingyan shook her head, looking at the sun as it sank further.
"Brother Zhongheng, we appreciate the offer, but home isn't far from here. Second Brother and I can just walk back."
Before Qu Sanlang could press further, she added softly, "Could you please go and inform my father, mother, and eldest brother? Tell them Second Brother is coming home and they don't need to search anymore. We can't do that ourselves, so we have to rely on your Wooden Kite Carriage."
"Right, right, I’ll go immediately!" Seeing that Ding Qingyan was willing to let him help, Qu Zhongheng broke into a wide grin. He hopped back onto the Wooden Kite Carriage, squeezed into the shallow cockpit, secured himself, pulled the lift lever, and turned the rudder.
Seeing this, Ding Songyan and Ding Qingyan stepped back several paces simultaneously. They stood firm, one hand pinching their noses and the other shielding their eyes.
"Sister Qingyan, I'll be as fast as I can!" Qu Zhongheng waved as he rose steadily into the air amidst the massive gusts generated by the flapping wooden wings, soaring off into the distance.
Once the dust settled again, Ding Songyan looked at Ding Qingyan and asked tentatively, "You didn't dare ride it either?"
Ding Qingyan looked embarrassed and wrinkled her nose. "You really don't remember. Oh, it's because there have been rumors in the city lately. They say that even though the Wooden Servants and Wooden Carriages from Qu Sanlang's family are fully equipped with mechanisms, they aren't reliable at all. His mother supposedly fell into the river and died because of one."
No wonder. One really does have to be cautious with these mechanical constructs... Ding Songyan felt he understood Ding Qingyan's point.
If even the Wooden Carriages and Wooden Servants on the ground carried such high risks, there was even less of a safety guarantee for a Wooden Kite Carriage in the sky!
Then, Ding Qingyan added:
"I went to ask Qu Sanlang if the rumors were true. He got very angry and said the carriage drivers were worried about losing their livelihoods, so they spread rumors on purpose. He said 'coachmen, boatmen, innkeepers, porters, and brokers—every one of them deserves to be killed!'
"He also said his mother's death had nothing to do with the Wooden Carriages or Wooden Servants. She fell into the water while taking a Wooden Kite Carriage to Tianmen Island in the middle of the river.
"Second Brother, tell me, would I dare ride it?"
Ding Songyan wiped away a non-existent cold sweat. "Qu Sanlang is certainly brave."
"He spent a fortune on a special umbrella that lets you descend slowly in mid-air. As long as you don't drown or fall from too high, you won't die." Ding Qingyan seemed quite interested in that umbrella. "Besides, his family’s Wooden Kite Carriage has been improved a lot. It used to need a tailwind to fly like a bird, but now, as long as it doesn't hit turbulent winds and doesn't fly too far, it's fine."
As she spoke, Ding Qingyan put on the veiled hat she had been holding in her left hand. The white gauze fell, obscuring her features.
"Let's go, Second Brother. It's getting dark."
Ding Songyan nodded slightly and followed Ding Qingyan along the packed-earth road. They walked through dense shade toward the nearby city. Occasionally, horses galloped past them, mostly carrying people with sabers or swords on their backs.
Combining the Wooden Kite Carriage with the current scene, I can tentatively rule out the "Truman Show" theory... This world is also quite different from a normal ancient setting... Keeping the mindset of "talk less, observe more," Ding Songyan silently took in everything around him, including his "cheap" younger sister, Ding Qingyan.
The girl wasn't short, somewhere between 160 and 170 centimeters. Since Ding Songyan's eyes weren't measuring tapes, he couldn't be precise. She walked with a bit of a bounce, her posture more like a child's than a young woman's. She was likely well-loved at home and clearly hadn't been burdened with too many of life's hardships too early.
Rounding a thicket of trees, the view before Ding Songyan suddenly opened up.
In the distance was a mighty river so wide the opposite bank was invisible. In the nearby tributaries and old channels stood various waterwheels made of wood and iron. Surrounding these waterwheels were numerous houses, with plumes of smoke rising from them into the clouds.
Vaguely, Ding Songyan heard the rhythmic clanging of metal striking metal coming from that direction.
The sprawl of houses ended at tall, grayish-white stone walls, which seemed to cluster around a wood-and-stone tower inside the city that stood perhaps dozens of meters high.
The setting sun slowly sank toward the river's surface. Amidst the surging summer heat, men and women wearing short tunics with rolled sleeves, revealing bronze muscles and streaks of sweat, left the workshop-like houses in a steady stream, heading toward the city gates.
Two groups were stationed at the gate. One group wore red Combat Jackets accented with blue, yellow, white, and black, equipped with waist sabers and long spears. The other group, both men and women, wore black martial outfits. Their left cuffs were embroidered with starlight and their right with candle flames; their primary weapons were longswords.
They stood on either side of the gate, not harassing those entering the city but skillfully maintaining order and occasionally questioning suspicious individuals.
Ding Songyan and Ding Qingyan passed through the gate and the barbican without incident.
The noise of the city suddenly became clear, and the colors before his eyes became more vibrant.
Ding Songyan looked around and saw pedestrians in various styles. Some wore straight-lapel robes, some wore blouses with skirts, and some were covered up as tightly as his sister. Others had their jackets open, revealing parts of their breast-binders or bellybands as if they were part of the outfit. Some wore chest-high skirts that showed quite a bit of skin. The men were the same: some in wide robes with large sleeves, some in scholar's robes, some in dark casual robes, some in round-collar gowns...
Although Ding Songyan knew little about traditional Han clothing, he had seen enough decent period films and TV shows to feel that the people here were a melting pot of every dynasty's style. It was as chaotic as visiting an ancient tourist town and seeing visitors from all over wearing different styles of Hanfu for photos.
Furthermore, aside from Ding Qingyan, very few women wore veiled hats, openly showing their faces.
Ding Songyan couldn't help but glance at Ding Qingyan.
Is she so beautiful that she's afraid of attracting trouble from lechers?
Indeed, in an ancient environment where technology wasn't advanced enough for proper regulation, being exceptionally beautiful could be dangerous without a strong family background.
His little sister was still young and hadn't fully matured yet. Otherwise, if it were like the novels and TV shows, the matchmakers would have probably broken down their front door.
Suddenly, three consecutive drum beats echoed from the wood-and-stone tower in the center of the city:
"Dong! Dong! Dong!"
What happened? Ding Songyan snapped his gaze in that direction.
In less than a breath, a streak of fire shot out from the top of the tower with a swoosh.
The fire was like a long serpent, racing forward with intensity. In an instant, it landed somewhere in the city, leaving only faint glimmers of light still illuminating the air. Its momentum was quite grand.
Immediately after, Ding Songyan noticed a team of people dressed in red with black patterns—who had been patrolling the street and looked like constables—quickly change direction. They moved like galloping horses and slipped through the crowd like fish, rushing toward where the fire had landed.
The crowd paused for a few breaths to assess the situation, then returned to normal.
Seeing Ding Songyan frozen in place, Ding Qingyan pouted gloomily beneath her veil.
"It's just Uncle Yi's 'Nine Sun-Shooting Arrows.'"
Ding Songyan didn't hide his confusion. He stared blankly at his veiled sister.
"Sigh..." Ding Qingyan let out a breath. "Uncle Yi is the County Sheriff of Linjiang County in our Dingjiang Prefecture. His martial arts are said to be inherited from Great Yi, who shot down the nine suns. That's why his whole clan uses 'Yi' as their surname. He’s the one on duty at the Watchtower today."
"Watchtower..." Ding Songyan repeated the word.
Ding Qingyan raised her arm and pointed at the wood-and-stone tower.
"There, that's the Watchtower. Every city has them, and more than one. There are some on the city walls too, though they aren't that high.
"Every day, the County Office, the Prefectural Office, and the Xiaoming Sect send experts whose techniques excel in long-distance vision to take turns on duty. They monitor the city for those who use martial arts to break the law and watch for potential enemies outside."
A human—no, a martial arts version of a surveillance system... Ding Songyan mused. That arrow just now seemed incredible, clearly exceeding the limits of a normal human... and that's just a sheriff in a single county.
Author's Note
Note 1: In the Classic of Mountains and Seas, they are the Qigong people, with one arm and three eyes. However, the scholar Yuan Ke argued that "Qigong" should be "Qigu" because having only one leg makes walking difficult, which is why they sought to create flying carriages. Precisely because they have both hands, they are skilled in craftsmanship. Additionally, the "Topography" chapter of the Huainanzi also mentions a Kingdom of Qigu. While I cannot judge who is definitively correct, I prefer the latter explanation as it fits my logic better. Therefore, in this book, they are the Qigu people, not the Qigong people.
Note 2: Some details of ancient life and certain plot elements in this book are drawn from the following sources, as I am not an ancient person and cannot imagine everything from scratch. References include but are not limited to: A Dream of Splendor in the Eastern Capital, Old Affairs of the Martial Forest, Recipes from the Sui Garden, Talks on the Jianghu, 54 Daily Routines of the Ancients, History of Chinese Architecture, Treatise on Superfluous Things, Daily Life and Social Customs of the Ancients, Life of Women in the Ming Dynasty, The Value of Ancient Money, Huaxia Raiment, Six Records of a Floating Life, and various Ming dynasty sketches and classic novels like The Plum in the Golden Vase and Water Margin, among others.