He turned his head to glance at the two perfectly seated figures at the dumpling stall, clutching their chopsticks as if they were weapons, staring at the large iron pot and incessantly swallowing their saliva. His right fist suddenly smashed into the palm of his left hand.
Slaughter Dragon Divine Skill? Chemical superstition? Mechanical ascension?
These, when well-utilized, indeed possessed great appeal, but they required extensive time for delicate operation, and the slightest carelessness could expose flaws.
Not to mention, just fabricating an identity that could withstand the scrutiny of Protector King Ning’s estate would require great effort... How could a royal relative like Protector King Ning, naturally lofty and wealthy, condescend to meet a martial artist of unknown origins?
By comparison, the allure of the "Geographical Explosion" for a feudal overlord who had just tasted the sweet fruits of maritime trade, possessed rudimentary yet eager knowledge of geography, and harbored ambitions of rebellion, was simply fatal!
Silver, gold, the New World, the Maritime Silk Road!
Pillaging, colonization, slave trade, an empire on which the sun never sets!
Any topic elaborated thoroughly could easily earn one the title of Imperial Mentor.
What was even better was that this kind of knowledge, the Geographical Explosion, allowed him to fabricate a Wei version of an "explorer" identity, which even the Protector King Ning’s estate couldn’t begin to investigate!
Moreover, could the people from Protector King Ning’s estate, even if they were schizophrenic, really connect a western-dressed ’banana man’ who nods to death and shakes from embracing, with that ink warrior who loved swinging his sword, the ’divine presence’ Yang Erlang?
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’What’s that chapter called in the middle school modern history textbooks?’
Yang Ge unobtrusively scrutinized the black shirts on those two foreign sailors, which were either gray or white beneath, and thought with great interest: ’Got it, it’s called "Open Your Eyes to the World"!’
’Let’s consider it the second lesson for the emperor...’
...
The next day dawned.
Yang Ge squatted by a small creek outside Ninghai, tending to a fire, baring his teeth as he used a red-hot slender iron rod to curl his hair.
Most of his black, straight, long hair, which he had grown for over two years, had already been curled into an ancient non-mainstream noodlehead...
On the other side of the fire, several branches supported a few sets of washed clean clothes—a dark red, loose, wide-sleeved shirt, a gray wool vest, a black wide-sleeved and narrow-waisted long jacket, dark red long deer-leather boots... even a tricorne hat and a small leather box with metal inlay were present.
These clothes, of course, did not belong to those two filthy foreign sailors from the previous night.
Instead, they belonged to the captain of a Spanish merchant ship set to sail out to sea at noon today... Because the range of choices was so limited, these outfits did not fit Yang Ge’s size, all being at least two sizes too large.
"It’s you!"
After curling his hair, Yang Ge stared at his reflection in the creek, feigning shock as he exclaimed, "Bu Jingyun!"
He could not help but laugh, pinching his chin while studying his handsome appearance, pretending to ponder, "This ugly hairstyle can’t cover up my handsomeness... No, just to be safe, I need to consider what if Protector King Ning has my portrait. I need to think of something else!"
After pondering for a moment, he suddenly dug up a red-hot piece of charcoal from the fire with the iron rod, cooled it with creek water, then took it and carefully sharpened one end with a knife. Next, he delicately traced some smoky makeup on himself using the piece of charcoal as a mirror.
After tracing, he looked at his reflection in the creek water, still not satisfied. He turned and cut a piece from the edge of the dark red shirt to use as a turban, binding it around the upper part of his head.
Next, he took out a silver ingot, heated it in the fire for sterilization, then freed a one-inch blade edge with his knife, cutting off various flashy silver ornaments from the silver ingot as smoothly as a blade through tofu—skull pendants, crosses, rings...
After finishing, he did not forget to cut a piece to silver-plate one of his teeth.
"Now I should look the part, right?"
Muttering, he dipped his head into the creek water and cried out, "It’s you, Jack Sparrow... Hss, the skin tone is still too pale!"
He turned, grabbed some charcoal, and ground it into charcoal powder, then evenly applied it to his face, neck, and hands; then, using a handkerchief dipped in water, he wiped away the excess dust... Now, even the skin tone matched!
Pleased, he extinguished the fire, packed the Western clothes in the small leather box, "From now on, I am Jack Sparrow!"
...
With his back to the rising sun, Yang Ge, carrying the small leather box, merged into the crowd entering Ninghai County.
He aimlessly wandered the streets of Ninghai for a long time, speaking in proper Cantonese and Mandarin interchangeably as he dealt with the locals of Ninghai using each of the silver coins he had crafted himself—buying anything flashy but insubstantial, anything interesting, anything tasty... The main act was a country bumpkin entering the city, amazed by everything in sight.
By noon, he shrieked and clutched at his vest, retracing his steps and asking everyone he met if they had seen his wallet.
The passersby of Ninghai, with a smirk tinged with a touch of sympathy, watched this unlucky soul scurry around the streets... They knew that this unfortunate fellow’s moneybag was doomed never to be found.
A disheartened Yang Ge, pitiable, feeble, and helpless, sat at Vegetable Market for over an hour until the sun began to shift westward. Only then did he find an unwanted rotten plank at the market, sketched a rough map of the world with a charcoal pencil, lifted the plank, and still speaking his half-baked Cantonese-Mandarin, proclaimed, "Do you know? The ground beneath our feet is actually round, like a ball..."