Wooden Kite

Upon hearing an answer that was unexpected yet not entirely unexpected, Ding Songyan felt both absurdity and doubt, and a layer of cold sweat broke out across his back.

Should I be glad I don't have to change my name, or should I suspect that some immense horror is hidden within such a coincidence? Or perhaps dying at the same time with the same name and surname was the core requirement for successfully crossing over? Could the original Ding Songyan have crossed into my world? Hiss, could we switch back again? Thoughts swirled through Ding Songyan's mind as he rapidly reviewed the beginnings of all those transmigration novels he had read before.

He had already decided that this body had originally been dead, and that he had, in a sense, borrowed a corpse to return to life. That was why he could not find even a single fragment of memory, did not recognize anyone around him, and knew nothing about anything that had happened.

Ding Songyan lifted his head again, looking toward the beams and roof covered in cobwebs and dust. He surveyed the walls riddled with holes and the damaged statue of a deity, trying to find a hidden camera and drag out the mastermind behind it all, so that person could tell him this was a "Truman Show."

It was the answer he wanted most.

It was also his last hope.

Yet he found nothing.

"Second Brother, shall we... go home first?" Having confirmed that her brother had truly forgotten everything, Ding Qingyan was deeply dejected.

"Alright." Ding Songyan responded in a low voice.

The two left through the collapsed gate one after the other. Ding Qingyan stopped in the open space before the temple, lifted her head, cupped her hands around her mouth, and called out loudly:

"Found him! Found him!"

Who was she talking to? Ding Songyan looked up at the sky as well. Sparse clouds drifted like pale dogs, stained with the red glow of the setting sun, making the gray-blue heavens seem exceptionally empty.

The instant that thought flashed through his mind, a vast shadow spread from behind them, swiftly blotting out the fading afterglow of the sun.

Then, an enormous and bizarre bird descended from the sky, landing before Ding Songyan and Ding Qingyan and stirring the dust from the ground into a mist.

Ding Songyan's eyes widened.

A wooden... wooden bird?

It had been flying in the sky just now?

Could there be a drone frame hidden inside it?

Or perhaps some kind of "flying sword" like the ones he had seen on video sites?

What shocked Ding Songyan so much was that it was a bird made of wood. It was quite enormous, comparable to a large helicopter from his former world. There was an unsealed cockpit on its back, where he could see a circular rudder, control rods, and other things. Some gleamed with metallic luster, while others showed the color of wood. Its beak was sharp, and paired with the two painted red eyes, it possessed a strange, majestic air.

Once the wooden wings stopped flapping and the dust began to settle, a figure crawled out from the cockpit and jumped down from the enormous bird.

When the strange flying object descended, Ding Qingyan had already covered her eyes with one hand and pinched her nose with the other, looking as practiced as if she had rehearsed it hundreds or thousands of times.

Now, she glanced sideways at Ding Songyan and introduced it in a congested-sounding voice:

"This is the Qigu People's Wooden Kite Flyer. [Note 1]

"Qu Sanlang from Baoping Alley heard that you had gone missing and volunteered to help look for you."

Qigu People... I seem to have heard of them somewhere... Ding Songyan studied Qu Sanlang as he hopped toward them.

The figure in blue short clothes was indeed different from ordinary people. He had three eyes on his face, the extra one set vertically between his brows and also horizontal, though it was currently closed. His lower body had only one leg, positioned in the middle, so he had to rely on hopping to move.

Two leather belts were wrapped around Qu Sanlang's waist, with a saber, a small hammer, and all manner of rough or exquisite tools hanging from them.

Other than that, he did not differ much from a normal person in appearance. His features were fairly proper, and his skin was bronze-toned.

After glancing at Ding Songyan, Qu Sanlang turned to Ding Qingyan and smiled ingratiatingly.

"Sister Qingyan, you found Second Brother?

"Shall I take you back in the Wooden Kite Flyer?"

I don't want to ride that. It doesn't feel safe... Ding Songyan refused inwardly as he considered an excuse.

Ding Qingyan shook her head and looked at the sun, which had sunk a little lower.

"Brother Zhongheng, we appreciate your kindness, but home isn't far from here. Second Brother and I can walk back."

Before Qu Sanlang could persuade her further, she added softly:

"Sorry for the trouble, but please tell my father, mother, and eldest brother that Second Brother has already gone home and they needn't keep searching outside. We can't do that sort of thing ourselves; we can only rely on your Wooden Kite Flyer."

"Alright, alright, alright! I'll go right away!" Seeing that Ding Qingyan was willing to let him help with something, Qu Zhongheng immediately beamed with joy. He hopped back onto the Wooden Kite Flyer, crawled into the shallow hollow of a cockpit, secured himself, pulled up the lift lever, and turned the circular rudder.

At the sight of this, Ding Songyan and Ding Qingyan both retreated several steps, steadied themselves, and once again pinched their noses with one hand while covering their eyes with the other.

"Sister Qingyan, I'll be quick!" Qu Zhongheng waved as the tremendous gusts from the wooden wings gradually lifted him into the air, and he soared away into the distance.

Once the dust had settled again, Ding Songyan looked sideways at Ding Qingyan and asked tentatively:

"You don't dare ride it either?"

Ding Qingyan looked embarrassed. Wrinkling her nose, she said:

"You really don't remember. Ah, it's because people in the city were saying before that although the Wooden Man Driver and Wooden Carriage Horse made by Qu Sanlang's family had every mechanism one could want, they weren't reliable at all. His mother fell into the river and died because of them."

No wonder. One really had to be cautious around such mechanical creations... Ding Songyan felt that he roughly understood what Ding Qingyan meant.

Even the Wooden Carriage Horse and Wooden Man Driver that ran on the ground carried such high risks. A Wooden Kite Flyer that flew through the sky was even harder to trust!

At that moment, Ding Qingyan added:

"I asked Qu Sanlang whether that was true. He got very angry and said that the coachmen were afraid of losing their livelihoods, so they deliberately spread rumors. Cart drivers, boatmen, innkeepers, porters, and brokers—every last one of them ought to be killed!

"He also said his mother's death had nothing to do with the Wooden Carriage Horse or Wooden Man Driver. She fell into the water while riding a Wooden Kite Flyer to look at Heaven's Gate Island from the middle of the river.

"Second Brother, tell me, would I dare ride one?"

Ding Songyan wiped at cold sweat that did not exist.

"Qu Sanlang is really bold."

"He spent a fortune on a Wonder Parasol that lets him descend slowly through the air. So long as he doesn't drown or fall from too high up, he won't die from the fall." Ding Qingyan seemed quite interested in that parasol. "Besides, his family's Wooden Kite Flyer has improved a great deal. It used to need a tailwind before it could fly like a bird. Now, so long as it doesn't encounter chaotic winds and doesn't fly too far, there's no problem."

As she spoke, Ding Qingyan put on the veiled hat she had been carrying in her left hand. White gauze fell over her face, concealing her features.

"Let's go, Second Brother. It'll be dark soon."

Ding Songyan nodded lightly and followed Ding Qingyan along the rammed-earth road, walking beneath dense shade toward the nearby city. Fine horses occasionally galloped past them, most carrying people with sabers at their waists and swords on their backs.

Taking the Wooden Kite Flyer from earlier together with the current scene into account, he could preliminarily rule out something like a Truman Show... This world was also different from a normal ancient era... Holding to the principle of speaking less, watching more, and observing carefully, Ding Songyan silently studied everything around him, including his bargain little sister, Ding Qingyan.

The girl was not short, over 1.6 meters but under 1.7. Ding Songyan's eyes were not measuring sticks, so he could not tell exactly how tall she was. She walked with a slight bounce, more like a child than a young lady. She must have been greatly doted on at home and clearly had not taken on too many burdens of life too early.

After they rounded a densely wooded stretch, Ding Songyan's view suddenly opened up.

In the distance lay a vast river whose opposite bank could not be seen. In an old tributary channel beside it stood waterwheels after waterwheels, made from wood and iron and varied in shape. A great many buildings surrounded those waterwheels, and streams of smoke billowed out from them and rose toward the clouds.

Faintly, Ding Songyan could hear wave after wave of metal striking metal coming from that direction.

The continuous row of buildings ended at a towering grayish-white stone wall, as though they were crowding around the wooden-and-stone tower within the city, which might have stood dozens of meters tall.

The sun slowly descended toward the river. Amid the surging summer heat, men and women wearing short coarse garments and rolled-up narrow sleeves, their bronze muscles and streaks of sweat exposed, emerged one after another from the buildings that seemed to be workshops and streamed toward the city gate without end.

Two groups guarded the city gate. One wore red battle jackets mixed with blue, yellow, white, and black, sabers at their waists and long spears in their hands. The other, male and female alike, wore fitted black outfits, with specks of starlight embroidered on their left sleeves and clusters of candle flames painted on their right. Their primary weapons were longswords.

They stood separately to either side of the city gate. They did not harass those entering the city, merely maintaining order with practiced ease and occasionally questioning people whose behavior seemed suspicious.

Ding Songyan and Ding Qingyan passed through the city gate without incident and crossed the barbican.

The clamor suddenly became clear, and the colors before them instantly grew far more vibrant.

At a glance, Ding Songyan saw that some pedestrians wore straight-hemmed long robes, some wore short jackets over skirts, some were covered from head to toe like his sister Ding Qingyan, while others wore their jacket collars open to reveal part of a chest wrap or bellyband, as though it were part of their outfit. Some simply wore chest-high ruqun dresses, a sea of pale white skin. The men were much the same—some wore wide robes with large sleeves, some blue-collared scholar robes, some dark straight robes, and some round-collared long gowns...

Though Ding Songyan had never studied Hanfu, he had at least watched some films and television dramas with reasonably good costumes. He felt that the people here had gathered clothing styles from every dynasty, as chaotic as the ancient towns he had visited in his former world, where tourists from all corners of the country wore Hanfu of different cuts and took photographs everywhere.

Moreover, apart from Ding Qingyan beside him, hardly any women wore veils. They openly displayed their faces.

Ding Songyan could not help glancing sideways at Ding Qingyan.

Was she too beautiful, afraid some lecher would take a fancy to her and cause trouble?

Indeed, in an ancient environment where technology was insufficient to maintain good control, beauty capable of toppling kingdoms was dangerous instead if one lacked a sufficiently powerful family background.

Only because Little Sister was still young and had not fully blossomed yet was it not like the novels and television dramas said, with people seeking her hand wearing down the family threshold.

Suddenly, the tall wooden-and-stone tower standing in the middle of the city sounded three consecutive drumbeats:

"Boom!" "Boom!" "Boom!"

What was happening? 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 whoosh.

The fiery streak was like a long serpent, hurtling fiercely forward. In an instant, it fell somewhere within the city, leaving only specks of radiance still lighting the air, its spectacle exceedingly magnificent.

Immediately afterward, Ding Songyan saw a squad of people wearing red garments patterned in black, who had originally been patrolling the streets and seemed to be constables, swiftly turn around. Like galloping horses in their speed and swimming fish in their slickness, they passed through the crowd and rushed toward where the fire had landed.

The crowd paused for a few breaths, then, after confirming the situation, resumed as normal.

Seeing Ding Songyan standing there stunned, Ding Qingyan puffed out her cheeks with a gloomy expression.

"That was Uncle Yi's 'Nine Sun-Shooting Arrows.'"

Ding Songyan did not hide his confusion or bewilderment. He stared blankly at his veiled sister.

"Ah..." Ding Qingyan sighed. "Uncle Yi is the county commandant of Linjiang County in Dingjiang Prefecture. I heard his martial arts were inherited from Dayi, who shot down the nine suns. That is why everyone in his clan bears the surname Yi. He was on duty at the watchtower today."

"Watchtower..." Ding Songyan repeated the word from his sister's explanation.

Ding Qingyan raised an arm and pointed at the wooden-and-stone tower.

"There, that's the watchtower. Every city has them—more than one—and there are some on the walls too, though none so tall.

"Every day, the county yamen, prefectural yamen, and Xiaoming Sect all send experts whose cultivation techniques excel at far-sight to take turns on watchtower duty, monitoring those within the city who use martial force to defy the law, as well as potential invading enemies outside the city."

A human version—no, a martial arts version—of a surveillance system... That arrow just now seemed formidable, clearly far beyond the limits of normal humans... And he was only a county commandant... Ding Songyan marveled inwardly as he listened.

Note 1: In the Classic of Mountains and Seas, they are called the Qigu People, with one arm and three eyes. However, Teacher Yuan Ke argued that they should be the Qigu People instead, because they had only one leg and found walking difficult, which was why they thought of creating flying vehicles. Since they lacked neither hand, they were also skilled in craftsmanship. At the same time, the "Treatise on Terrain" in the Huainanzi also mentions a Qigu Kingdom. I cannot judge who is right or wrong, but I prefer the latter explanation because it better fits my logic. Therefore, this book uses Qigu People, not Qigong People.

Note 2: Some details of ancient daily life and certain plot elements in this book were drawn from the following works. After all, the author is not an ancient person and cannot imagine everything from nothing. The reference list includes, but is not limited to: Dreams of the Eastern Capital, Old Tales of Wulin, Sui Garden Recipes, Talks from the Jianghu, Fifty-Four Everyday Lives of Ancient People, History of Chinese Architecture, Treatise on Superfluous Things, Dreams of the Great Song, Ancient Daily Life and Social Customs, Women's Lives in the Ming Dynasty, How Much Was Money Worth in the Past, Chinese Attire, Chronicles of Han-Style Trends, Six Chapters of a Floating Life, A Grand Collection of Notebook Fiction from the Han, Wei, and Six Dynasties, Dreams of the Great Ming, The Refined Lives of Ming Dynasty People, The Emperor's Banquet, Three Words and Two Slaps, Ming Dynasty Customs, Where Did Ming Dynasty Money Go?, Dream of the Red Chamber, The Plum in the Golden Vase, Water Margin, and so on, and so on.