I thought I was moving fast enough to get the timeline going, but the damn hands weren't moving an inch. I couldn't take it anymore and slammed on the brakes. But it was the old charlatan's modified car after all; it didn't cough and throw me off the windshield, but instead smoothly waltzed across the lawn before coming to a relatively steady stop.
My face turned deathly pale, and after sitting for a few seconds, I opened the car door and vomited!
Liu Laoliu and He Tiandou walked up with smiles on their faces. Liu Laoliu said, "See, I told you you weren't used to it."
I looked back and realized I had only walked less than 200 meters.
Liu Laoliu said, "Once you get used to driving this car, you can enter the timeline in 100 meters. But since you're new to driving, you need to practice your courage, which is why I'm letting you drive on the track first. Remember not to be afraid. No matter how fast it looks, as long as the timeline pointer doesn't move, you have to keep pressing the accelerator. Actually, you're only safe once the pointer starts moving. At that point, you can fly over rooftops as easily as air."
I leaned against the car and vomited for a while before saying, "Can I go again tomorrow? I want to say goodbye to Baozi."
Liu Laoliu and He Tiandou: "..."
Actually, I just want to calm down. I would never get on that bus again anytime soon.
That night, I didn't tell Baozi about the time travel. Although the five-person group was no secret to her, it was better not to tell her some things yet. Knowing her personality, if she knew about it, she would definitely pester me to go back and see Fatty and the others. I was afraid that if that car was driven to 1982, Baozi would become a sperm, or two sperm and two eggs—she was already more than two months pregnant.
Liu Laoliu told me that the reason I wouldn't be like that was because I had already been registered as a celestial being. Although I didn't have divine power, I was still a deity. It's the same principle as being on unpaid leave; after all, you're a person with a formal job, and you'd be treated better at the bank than someone without a job when applying for a credit card.
I told Baozi I was going out for a while, at least 3 days and at most a month or so, it was for business.
The next day, I got back into the car. I had to leave today no matter what; time was of the essence. I didn't know how Ersha and the others calculated their timeline—whether they were sent to the day before the assassination attempt on Qin or the year before. Liu Laoliu and He Tiandou were vague about this, as they had no experience with the subject.
To test what He Tiandou told me, I deliberately brought a fruit knife and a bag of bread and put them in the passenger seat. I wanted to see what they would do.
I sat in the driver's seat and tapped my knuckles. Liu Laoliu pounded on my car window and said, "Remember not to slow down, keep going!"
I gave him a cold look and flashed a V-sign. He Tiandou, not far in front of me, was vigorously waving a small flag downwards…
I kept shifting gears and pressing the accelerator, and soon the speedometer on the car became meaningless again. By sight, I felt my speed was no slower than yesterday, but the timeline remained unchanged. Because of my hesitation, I had already covered more than half of the 1000-meter distance. At this rate, I would soon crash into the wall.
With a determined look and a determined bite, I slammed the accelerator to the floor. My vision blurred, and the scenery on either side seemed to slow down rapidly, but I couldn't make out what it was; it was just a kaleidoscope of colors. Gradually, I felt a sense of emptiness draining from my body, like the instant an elevator doors opened. I remained in this state for a while before realizing what was happening and looking at the timeline. It had moved. Its pointer had reached the bottom few marks, indicating "2006," and the car became much smoother, as if traveling at a constant speed on a highway.
I glanced instinctively at the things next to me. The plastic handle of the fruit knife had turned into a puddle of glue, but the blade was still intact. Then I looked at the bread—holy crap! It was still perfectly fine. This bread was manufactured in 2006—it only turned into flour when I ran away to 2005! What a heartless boss!
Since 2005, the time spans have become much larger. It took me more than 40 minutes to reach the Ming Dynasty, still far from the Qin Dynasty. It seems that traversing more than 2,000 years is no easier than running 2,000 li (approximately 1,000 kilometers).
I discovered that once the timeline shifted, giving it less gas or shifting into third gear didn't bring it back to the initial fast speed; the needle just slowed down. It seems the only way to stop the needle is to stop the car. I even coasted for a bit using the momentum, at which point I could almost see the clothes and buildings worn by ancient people.
Speaking of clothes, I'm quite frustrated. The clothes I wore began to turn into cotton, animal hides, and fibers shortly after bread turned into flour, and then they all disappeared from me in the early 21st century, with my underwear turning into a clump of cotton—we wear pure cotton underwear now.
Thankfully, the temperature inside the car was just right. Now I'm praying it'll be summer when we get there. I never imagined my clothes would be from a different era. I should have worn Qin Shi Huang's clothes from that time! Even though they're ripped to shreds by Cao Xiaoxiang, it's better than being naked.
During the Qing Dynasty, that knife was transformed into a small, long strip made of ore slag, which gradually became thinner and thinner, eventually turning into a pile of powder, like incense ash in an incense burner.
However, nothing inside the car had changed, from the windows to the seats. I was even pleasantly surprised to find that the half-pack of cigarettes I had left in the Lagoon since I got the car was still intact—that was a treasure!
I drove at varying speeds, the scenery outside the window as vibrant and colorful as ever, like stepping into a science fiction set, blurring the lines between day and night. Only when I slowed to almost a complete stop could I occasionally catch glimpses of individual buildings or the silhouettes of ancient figures in long, flowing robes. Of course, they couldn't see me.
This road was so long, I was starting to feel fatigued by the end. Why did they have to start with a Qin Dynasty story? If it were just about finding Wu Sangui, it would only take half an hour. These two fat Qin officials and idiots live in the far suburbs...
If you're looking for Jin Shaoyan, it's even closer; it only takes about ten minutes to get there, and you can easily take a taxi.
Nearly 10 hours later, with the pointer less than half a centimeter away from the Qin Dynasty and victory in sight, Brother Ying, Ersha, here I come!
I was getting excited when suddenly I heard a strange noise from the car: clattering, clattering, clattering...
Is it... out of gas?
I checked the fuel gauge, and sure enough, it was empty. Damn it, why didn't Liu Laoliu tell me? I never imagined this car would run on gas even when I traveled through time.
Suddenly, the car stopped. My eyes were glued to the timeline; its hands were almost at the finish line, but it seemed like one thread was missing…
Outside the car window, next to my car was a small grove of trees, and beyond that, an endless grassland stretched into the distance. I sat naked in the car, lost in thought. There was still a can of gas in the trunk. When I filled it up and tried to start the car again, it only gave a faint hum and then fell silent. I remembered what Liu Laoliu had said; it seemed it would need three days of rest before it could run again.
The wind was strong on the grassland, thankfully it was summer. I pushed the car into the grove of trees to hide it and continued to stare blankly. What should I do now? The dynasty seems to be the Qin Dynasty, but where are Ersha and Fatty Ying?
I looked at myself from head to toe, and I looked so neat and tidy. I hadn't even had time to weave a grass skirt yet; if this were a movie, they'd have to censor it.
Fortunately, there was a fairly large blanket on the back seat of the car. I draped it over myself, grabbed my phone and some cookies, and wandered off aimlessly.
Two hours later, while I was still wandering on the grassland, I finally cried: Where the hell am I?
Chapter 82 Meeting Again
I don't know why there's grassland here, but the car probably wasn't parked in the right place. I feel like this job requires a lot of precision, doesn't it? I could see the pointer was still a tiny bit off from the target line. This isn't like cooking millet porridge, where a difference of half a finger's width of water doesn't matter.
Another thing is that this blanket is awkward. You drape it over your back, and while most of your body stays warm, when a breeze blows from underneath, I feel like some kind of psychopath. After spending so much time in the city, you definitely won't get used to having a natural breeze blowing there.
But if I wrapped the blanket around my waist, my back would feel chilly. Although it was summer, the wind on the grassland was still cold, lashing against me with a forceful force. The ancient ecosystem was truly wonderful; the grass was a vibrant, glossy green, and the sky a dazzling blue, giving one a sense of unease. Having only been here for a short time, I already fully understand the extent to which we modern humans have damaged the Earth.
Just then, I finally saw a line of figures appearing in the distance. I quickly wrapped the blanket around myself, trying to appear relaxed as if to cover up my true identity; I couldn't let them know I wasn't a local—
As the group slowly approached, I realized they weren't much better off than me. There were about seventeen or eighteen of them, no women, all emaciated. The leader was an old man carrying two baskets, a child nestled beside him. They didn't seem curious when they saw me, passing by indifferently, or perhaps they simply didn't have the energy to care about a stranger. I realized they were a group of refugees.
But I couldn't let this opportunity slip by. I didn't even know where I was, or what dynasty it was, so I asked a classic line that protagonists in time-travel novels always say: "Sir, where is this?"
The old man glanced at me and said in perfect Mandarin, "We are from Zhao, and we just escaped from Julu City."
Julu, isn't that where Xiang Yu made his name?
I quickly asked, "Did they start fighting?"
The old man said, "That's right, otherwise how could we have escaped?"
"So who won?" Since the place name Julu appeared, the era must be quite close, maybe even during the reign of Qin Shi Huang. What I'm most concerned about now is who's fighting whom. Looking at this grassland, it might be the Xiongnu. If that's the case, I'll probably run into a general like Meng Tian or "Meng Yi," then I'll say I want to see the First Emperor, and then I'll be taken back to the capital as a spy. The journey will be miserable; I'll ride in a prison cart, eat leftovers, and endure countless hardships to finally meet Fatty. I'll give him the medicine, and Fatty will be furious, wanting to kill General Meng who mistreated his brother. I'll quickly say, "Never mind, never mind." Because of my magnanimity, I'll be loved by everyone in the Qin court, and I'll occasionally invent little things that make people call me a genius, while waiting for Er Sha… Hmm, this approach works, although it's a bit cliché, but it's passable.