Peng Yi saw that Zhang Jiao had not responded and immediately felt a little uneasy. But then he figured this guy might be a transmigrator born in a later era who had never seen that comedy sketch.
He recited a line of poetry. "The moonlight before my bed."
There was no way he would not know this poem, right? Anyone who had gone through nine years of compulsory education would definitely know it. Besides, this was the late Han, while it was a Tang poem. The locals here definitely would not be able to answer it.
Zhang Jiao understood. This guy probably thought he was a transmigrator too. After all, things like a republican society and comrades were obviously not from the late Han.
"Are you testing whether I'm a transmigrator?" Zhang Jiao laid his cards on the table.
Zhang Jiao's blunt admission left Peng Yi utterly dumbfounded.
Peng Yi said, "Huh?"
Why was this guy not following the script? Shouldn't they be exchanging a code phrase and secretly making contact? Was he not afraid of exposing his identity by saying it so openly?
Peng Yi nervously glanced at Zhang Bao and the two Yellow Turban soldiers.
"No need to be so nervous." Zhang Jiao smiled. "You're from the twenty-first century, right?"
"No, man, aren't you afraid they'll find out? In this era, if people think you're possessed by some evil spirit, they could very well kill you." Peng Yi had heard how ancient people dealt with those who were different from ordinary people.
Most of them did not end well.
If his transmigration had not happened so suddenly, he would definitely have prepared clothes from this era and gotten himself a wig. Standing out from everyone else was far too conspicuous, and he could easily be killed as some