Chapter 2: Chapter Two: Cao Sanniang

He hauled several buckets of water from the cistern inside the cave, and the seven or eight Uyghur warriors who had arrived promptly made themselves at home in the cave to rest, while Zhang Chao was forced to stand outside.

But when he had drawn the water just now, Zhang Chao had been badly frightened. If the reflection in the water really was him, then Zhang Chao had now become a rather callow-looking youth.

His features had not changed, but he looked at least ten years younger. The original twenty-eight- or twenty-nine-year-old Zhang Chao looked only fifteen or sixteen in the water.

"Impossible! Impossible! How could there be such a thing as rejuvenation in this world? It must have been that the light was too dim just now and I didn't see clearly!" Zhang Chao kept comforting himself inwardly.

"Hey, you novice monk! This broken cave of yours doesn't have a single grain of food, and now I have to provide the grain myself. Come, come, quickly find some firewood and cook us a meal!"

The Uyghur who had first drawn his blade came over again. He had rummaged around for a long time in the cave where Zhang Chao lived, yet had not found even a bit of food. In the end he could only stalk back to his horse in a huff, take out a bag of millet, and hurl it to the ground with a crash, telling Zhang Chao to hurry up and cook for them.

Cook? Zhang Chao stared blankly at this sweat-stinking Uyghur. You want me to cook for you? Should I order you some takeout while I'm at it?

But the anger surged up for only an instant before vanishing without a trace, because at this moment Zhang Chao simply had no heart to bicker with this fellow. He had suddenly realized that if transmigration truly existed in this world, then he had very likely become one of the transmigrator ranks.

Not only because of these people's clothing, but even more because the tone and content of their speech were clearly not modern in style.

"Great Merciful Father" was a term for the supreme deity of Manichaeism, a religion that had long since vanished from China and even from world history. He also had two titles more familiar to later generations: the Great Bright God, or the Lord of Light.

The White Lotus Sect, the professional rebellion cult that persisted in China for over a thousand years in later ages, borrowed from Manichaeism.

"Aluohuan" was the term for Manichaean clergy, borrowed from the Buddhist arhat.

"Good woman" was a term for women who believed in Buddhism, and together with "good man" became known in later generations as "good men and faithful women."

"Novice" was the term for a monk aged fourteen or older but under twenty. "Formal-novice," the full term, was used for a novice who had not yet received full ordination. He touched the crew cut on his head. These fellows had taken him for a monk!

But all these distinctions were things only the ancients would divide so finely! In the Republic of later ages, who still distinguished between formal-novice, novice, Dharma master, and the rest? One phrase — old monk or young monk — settled it! Not to mention that Manichaeism had been extinct for several hundred years.

Wuwuwu! Brother Chao doesn't want to transmigrate! The three-bedroom apartment in the mountain city had just had its down payment made, the beloved car had just had its loan paid off, the little girlfriend he'd just won over hadn't even reached the hand-holding stage — the good life was only just beginning!

Cao Sanniang slowly walked to the doorway. She suddenly thought of the term "this poor monk." When other bhikshus called themselves "this poor monk," it was a humble form of address, but for this little novice, the words "poor monk" could not have been more apt.

He wore a black monastic robe that clearly did not fit. The hem of the robe reached only to around his knees, and a good part of his calves were exposed, trembling faintly in the cold wind.

No shoes, hair cropped short, a forehead blue with cold, a runny nose he was trying his best to keep from dripping, and a cave temple without a single grain of rice — everything revealed utter destitution.

Where was his master? How could anyone survive in a place like this? So wooden and dazed, clearly frightened. Poor thing!

"Little master, how about I have Shanniang accompany you to the hall below (the kitchen)? Once some food is prepared, you can have a full meal too."

Seeing that this foolish little novice was about to get into trouble again, Lady Cao hurried over, took him by the hand, and pulled him into the cave temple, at the same time calling for her maidservant to pick up the grain and follow along.

The little master's hand is so hot!

The moment their hands touched, Cao Sanniang's heart suddenly began pounding for no reason. At first glance the little novice's foolish appearance suggested he had just passed the age of childhood, and fearing the Uyghurs might harm him, she had not thought twice before taking his hand.

But looking now, although this little novice had little hair on his head, it appeared to have been carefully groomed, and was rather good-looking.

He looked young because, apart from the forehead blue with cold, his lips were red, teeth white, skin fine, and he had no beard, just like a boy.

But seen up close now, the novice's face had sharp, well-defined angles, nothing like the round, soft face of a child.

And it was not that he had no beard. The almost invisible short whiskers at the corners of his mouth were neat and even, clearly the result of frequent trimming. Moreover, this little novice was at least five chi six cun (1.72 meters) tall. How could a child be so tall?

What kind of person is this! Who would constantly trim his beard short to pass as a boy? How very strange!

The touch was cool and fine, and a faint fragrance followed. Led by a soft, boneless hand, Zhang Chao's head buzzed, and his terror at the possibility of transmigration suddenly eased a little.

He merely thought that this dignified Cao Sanniang must have poor eyesight, treating him like a child and even reaching out to pull him along. What dynasty was this? Weren't the ancients supposed to be very conservative?

"Little master, don't you even have a fire striker?" Shanniang was a little maid of twelve or thirteen. Wearing a light green dress, she waved the fire striker in her hand and looked curiously at this very strange novice.

Why was he always so dazed? And why did he keep his thighs pressed tightly together, as if afraid something might fall out?

"Fire striker? I don't even use a lighter, let alone a fire striker!" Zhang Chao, now much calmer, muttered.

The so-called fire striker was the most common fire-starting tool of ancient times. Shaped like a small sickle, it was struck against flint and used with tinder to make fire.

"My lady, this little master doesn't know how to do anything, but he isn't mute. He seems able to speak, only I can't understand a word he says!" Shanniang immediately reported her new discovery to her mistress.

"Buddha be merciful! Though silent recitation of the sutras is no less devout, to chant the Buddha's teachings aloud can ferry others and ferry oneself."

Cao Sanniang sat upright on a small wooden stool, and the gaze she cast at Zhang Chao was full of gratification. To her, a devout believer in the Buddha, being unable to chant the sutras must surely be the most painful thing in the world.

"Ferry others and ferry oneself?" The moment Cao Sanniang finished speaking, the Uyghur leader in the floral-patterned brocade robe and the rolled-brim pointed felt hat walked over. His eyes gleamed with resentment as he stood before Cao Sanniang with an air of utter arrogance.

"How hypocritical you are, Sanniang! When my Zhai family came from distant Yizhou to seek refuge, we did no small amount of hard fighting for your Cao family. I merely wished to marry a daughter of your Cao family's secondary branch, and your elder brother dared to humiliate me!

What lofty clan! What a pretense of virtue! Hah! Now that I've seized his sister, let's see if he can keep his face! Hahaha!"

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