Chapter 1: Chapter One: Do They Still Know That Even Thieves Follow a Code?

This should still be somewhere in the northwest. Zhang Chao reached out and scratched at the mottled earthen wall by the doorway, eroded by wind and sand. It was the only thing he could be certain of; as for everything else, he had no idea at all.

As a cold-weapons enthusiast, a member of a domestic full-armor combat team, and a man who made his living from crafting and selling armor — a trade that in ancient times would have been a crime punishable by extermination of three generations of one's family —

Zhang Chao had, a moment before, been walking among the dunes by Crescent Moon Spring, wearing a self-made replica of Tang-dynasty mingguang armor and holding a cavalry lance that had taken him three years to forge, about to do a "Great Tang garrison soldier in the Western Regions" cosplay for his fans.

But before he could even turn on his phone, he blacked out. When he woke up, he was here. The mingguang armor was gone, the cavalry lance was gone, the phone was gone — even his underwear was gone!

What kind of goddamn robbers are these? Have they no sense of public decency? Stripping a man completely bare — what if the neighbors have work tomorrow? Do they not know that even thieves follow a code? They even took the underwear!

With no other choice, Zhang Chao searched around for a long while and finally found, in a broken wooden chest, a long robe of a very dark color — not quite black, not quite purple, about the color of ripe mulberries.

However, the clothes were a little small, and it was just a single long robe with nothing else at all, which made Zhang Chao very uncomfortable.

This was definitely the northwest. Zhang Chao walked out of the dwelling, which held a few simple pieces of furniture and a hearth but no grain, pots, pans, bowls, or ladles.

Uh! Calling it a house wasn't quite right. This thing should be called a cave. Looking up at the grotto carved into a tall earthen slope, with a round-arched opening, Zhang Chao made the most accurate judgment.

Because it looked much like the Mogao Caves, just not as large or as tall. Moreover, inside the cave there was a crudely carved but unpainted Buddha statue, along with several scrolls of scripture he could barely understand, which further confirmed Zhang Chao's judgment.

By the doorway stood several Russian olive trees, their fruit already showing the purple-red of ripeness. Zhang Chao rushed over like a starving dog pouncing on food. Judging by the sky, not much time had passed, so why was he as hungry as if he hadn't eaten in days?

After a few sweet-sour, sour-astringent Russian olives went down, Zhang Chao's spirits steadied a little, and his limbs recovered some strength. Looking at the deserted surroundings, he began to consider what he should do.

Since this place looked like the Mogao Caves, and he had blacked out not far from Crescent Moon Spring, then it should not be far from the tourist area. Or perhaps this was an abandoned scenic spot, and after he blacked out, someone robbed him of everything and dumped him here?

Perhaps he should walk out and take a look. Otherwise, staying here would just mean waiting to die!

"Clatter-clatter-clatter!" Just as Zhang Chao was hesitating, dust rose in the distance, as if many people were galloping over on horseback.

People are coming! Zhang Chao was instantly overjoyed. Now he wouldn't have to risk going out himself. Who knew how far the nearest town was? These dunes all looked the same; he might get lost and die without anyone knowing.

"Hey there, little novice monk! Hurry up and fetch some water! One step slow and watch your head!"

Zhang Chao froze. People had come, all right, but they weren't the horseback-riding tourists he had imagined. They were a group of "ancients."

The fellow holding a horsewhip and shouting abuse at him spoke with a very awkward, strange accent. Even stranger, Zhang Chao understood him — and could even tell that his speech was nonstandard, clearly mixed with a barbarian accent.

When had he learned this dialect, which was practically a foreign language? Zhang Chao felt a little dizzy. And he had a vague sense that these people were definitely not making a movie, nor were they doing cosplay like him.

Tattered leather robes, tattered leather hats, small shaggy horses, greasy hair, waxy yellow buck teeth, strange words coming from their mouths — to say nothing of cameras and phones, Zhang Chao couldn't see a single trace of modern objects on them. After all his years in the scene, Brother Chao had never seen anyone do historical reenactment to this degree.

Moreover, many of them held in their hands a kind of Tibetan knife called a shangma — a long blade with a thick grip and pointed tip, shaped like a Tang saber. It had been forged by Han craftsmen who accompanied Princess Wencheng into Tibet as part of her dowry, a Tang-style saber with Tibetan characteristics.

That crudely made look was something later generations couldn't reproduce even if they wanted to. A few years back, Zhang Chao had especially wanted to get his hands on a real one, and unexpectedly, here he was seeing them.

At the same time, the sharp-eyed Zhang Chao also spotted, strapped to the back of another riderless horse, a set of Tibetan-style Tibetans lamellar armor.

Though it was far away, Zhang Chao, who had played with armor for over a decade, recognized at a glance that this set of Tibetans lamellar armor was absolutely not a later reproduction, but a genuine antique.

But the Tibetans dynasty was at least nine hundred to a thousand years in the past. If it really were Tibetans-era lamellar armor, no one would be willing to just strap it to a horse's back like that — that was a cultural relic!

"Baldy, you're courting death!" Zhang Chao froze, but the warrior in front of him spouting nonsense did not. With a "shing," the man drew his shangma blade from beside his horse and raised it to strike.

"Stop!" The blade had barely left the scabbard when a delicate shout halted it. A woman in an orange-yellow dress, a white veil over her face, walked over from behind.

"Even if you Uyghurs do not believe in the Buddha, you should still know to respect Aluohuan. Do the followers of the Great Merciful Father know only how to kill?"

The woman had a slender figure, a straight waist and back, and an extremely dignified gait. Though she was rebuking them, her voice was clear and bright, measured in its rises and falls, her expression solemn, displaying a high degree of cultivation. At a single glance, you would associate the word "etiquette" with her.

By now, the knights who had arrived had all dismounted and tethered their horses to the Russian olive trees outside.

A bearded man wearing a four-panel curled-brim pointed felt hat and a brocade robe with scattered floral patterns walked over. His eyes were sunken and his pupils gray, and like the mounted knights, he looked like a "Xinjiang person."

"Lady Cao Sanniang is indeed a virtuous woman who has made offerings to the Buddha. Well said. Sha Gou'er, put the blade away!"

The man who looked like the leader patted the shoulder of the fellow who had drawn his shangma blade, signaling him to put it back, then turned with a somewhat frivolous look toward the woman who had spoken first.

"But in my humble opinion, at this moment, Sanniang should first worry about herself, haha!"

With that, the man removed the curled-brim pointed felt hat from his head and glanced at Zhang Chao, who was clutching Russian olives in both hands, staring blankly without much reaction, as if frightened out of his wits.

"This little... fellow, please fetch some clear water. My brothers will rest a while and then be on our way!"

The setting sun slanted low. Zhang Chao stood alone in the wind clutching Russian olives, utterly bewildered. The more he thought about it, the more wrong it felt.

"Uyghurs"? Hadn't the term "Uyghur people" long since disappeared?

And that fellow on horseback drawing his blade to cut him down just now was definitely not an act — Zhang Chao could feel it!

But this was 2021! Who still dared to cut someone down at the slightest disagreement? Where the hell was this? Something was very wrong!