Rebirth Of Chen An

Chapter 159: Chen An? The Bad Emperor?

Translator: Flying Lines

According to Chen An, it went without saying that the task of driving the carriage belonged to Ding Sheng. The reason: young people should learn to respect the old.

Where did he find all these excuses for being lazy? Ding Sheng wondered. Sitting at the front of the carriage with his hood up and a pair of sunglasses to go with it, Ding Sheng looked rather dashing with a strange mixture of the old and new.

Ding Sheng held the reins and drove the horse through the rough patches in the road, when he heard clear clicking sounds of a camera coming from the carriage. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Chen An taking selfies with his phone, two cushions under his butt.

They’ve had no phone calls, no messages and no wi-fi connection since they came here. The only use of their phones was to take pictures, so Chen An used it as a kind of journal plus a camera.

“Uncle Chen, we barely know anything about this place, so why don’t we take Hehua with us?”

It wasn’t that Ding Sheng had any special feelings for the girl; he just thought she might as well serve as their guide than working as the maid.

Chen An took note of the battery and turned it off and stuffed it in the backpack, “do you think a person who grew up in the south can serve as a guide in the north?”

“Hehua is a servant girl who has never left the town. If you want her to be your guide, might as well let her be your maid. Besides, do you think it appropriate for an unmarried girl to stay with two adult men?”

Chen An gave Ding Sheng a talking to: “this place is like ancient China; your modern western education is not going to work here, so just drive your carriage.”

They didn’t drive a tank or a helicopter. A tank would attract too much attention; if they really did drive it down the mountain, they would probably be treated as demons wherever they went.

A helicopter would be much handy, but without a chance to refuel, they wouldn’t be able to keep it in the air.

If they were to run out of fuel with a tank or helicopter halfway, they might as well start with a way of transportation befitting this world.

Chen An scrolled through the pictures he’d taken for the past two days, pictures of their aircraft in the woods, pictures of Ding Sheng taken without his knowing it, and pictures of himself with the town in the background.

But no picture of Lu Feng, of Chen Yang, or Ivanov.

It was when he came to this place that he realized he’d never taken a picture with the others; he didn’t even have their pictures.

Before dark, Chen An and Ding Sheng’s carriage came to a city nearest to the town and found a tavern to put up for the night.

As it was not a good idea to show your riches and attract unwanted attention, Chen An and Ding Sheng did not wear the silk clothes presented to them by the rich merchant but wore plain clothes instead. Still, they wouldn’t want their short haircut to attract attention, therefore they asked dinner to be sent to their room.

When the tavern boy brought their meal, Chen An gave him some silver pieces and asked about recent events.

After the tavern boy walked away in a happy mood, Chen An shut the door and sat beside the table. As he chewed on the beef, he said: “I told the tavern boy that we are monks who’d recently resumed secular life. As we came down the mountain, we met with some bandits and got separated from our friends and asked him whether he’d seen two men with short hair and unusual clothing.”