“I’ll fuck your ancestors! That’s just cheating!” After some quick assessment, Brian Carter simply hugged the rope and lay down on the surface of the sea—he was already like a dead dog, so why bother with posture? More importantly, he wanted to try communicating with that thing in the sky, to see if he could negotiate a bit, so he wouldn’t be sent back to ancient times. The little knowledge he had in his head would be useless there! Unfortunately, after mumbling for a long time, the voice that had spoken to him in his dazed state never appeared again.

Before Brian Carter could connect with the one in the sky, the boat suddenly slowed down, and a woman’s voice appeared, greeting the people on the boat. Brian Carter rolled over while holding the rope and realized they were already close to shore. Three larger wooden boats were floating side by side on the water. A woman dressed in blue clothes and pants, with a floral headscarf, was waving in this direction. At that moment, she also noticed Brian Carter in the water, looking quite surprised. She covered her mouth, widened her eyes, and stared at Brian Carter.

“Grandpa! …￥％￥#…＆” The girl was not tall, with very dark skin, about twenty years old. Her blue pants were short and wide, hanging loosely to her calves, and she was barefoot, giving off a vibe similar to cropped pants from later times. Her top was also deep blue, matching the pants, but with a black trim around the collar and cuffs, and the style was very old-fashioned, somewhat like the round-collared cloth jackets from the Ming and Qing dynasties. She was quite bold—though startled by Brian Carter, she neither ran nor hid, and asked the old man on the boat in a clear voice. Unfortunately, Brian Carter only understood one word: it seemed the old man was her grandfather.

“Native…＆％￥￥＆” The old man docked the small boat next to the big one, tossed the mooring rope over, and replied. Brian Carter caught another word: native!

“I’m not a native, I’m Han, a Han from the South Seas!” To be called a native made Brian Carter furious. He had already figured out who these people were, so it was time to start making things up.

If he had only seen the two men, Brian Carter still wouldn’t have been sure who they were. But as soon as the woman appeared, she looked familiar, and after a moment’s thought, he remembered a very unique group: the Tanka people! Strictly speaking, the Tanka are not an ethnic group. There are many theories about their origins—some say they are descendants of the Nanyue people, some say Qin people, and others say they migrated from the middle and upper reaches of the Yangtze River, with members from various ethnicities.

They are called Tanka because their boats are high at both ends, with a hut in the middle, making them look round like an egg. This wasn’t something Brian Carter made up; he’d seen it in a museum in Sanya in later times. Brian Carter had led tour groups here more than once. Tanka people aren’t just found on Hainan Island; they’re spread along the coasts of Guangxi, Guangdong, and Fujian, and even throughout Southeast Asia. Their unique lifestyle has become a local tourist attraction.

The Tanka have lived on the water for generations—one family per boat, several boats lined up to form a village. Besides fishing and shrimping, they also do small business transporting goods and passengers. The famous pearl divers are Tanka girls. It wasn’t until the late Qing dynasty that Tanka people gradually moved ashore, but the sea remained their main activity area. For example, they run fish farms and near-shore aquaculture. For every Tanka family, the fishing boat is the most important asset—not only must they have a house on land, but also a boat in the water to consider life complete.

Tanka clothing is simple. Men wear black or blue cloth shirts and pants, with wide, short pant legs, and go barefoot. Women’s clothing is a bit more refined, with black trim at the cuffs, collar, and pant legs, and a plain or floral headscarf—sometimes topped with a bamboo hat. But the Tanka have always been poor, as every dynasty discriminated against them and basically forbade them from living on land. Because they worked at sea year-round, they developed a tough character—quick to fight for their lives at the slightest provocation, with no fixed abode and hard to govern.

“To go to sea is to gamble with your life; on land, you bow your head.” That’s the Tanka way of life. Every time they went out to sea, they never knew if they’d return, so they had no habit of saving, living hand-to-mouth and relying entirely on the whims of nature. Brian Carter had once seen old photos of Tanka villages in Sanya: a single pair of pants patched over and over, sewn so thick it was like canvas—this was normal for Tanka people. Han Chinese even called their clothes “nine-day dry,” meaning it took nine days to dry after washing because the patches were so thick.

Chapter Three: A Little Ant

The girl was wearing the standard Tanka attire. No matter the era, Tanka people remained Tanka people—there wasn’t much change. Brian Carter wasn’t afraid of the Tanka; the simpler and more honest people were, the less he feared them. He was only afraid of running into the highly educated—those people had too many rules and schemes, making them hard to fool.

“You’re a Han kid, your boat sank?” At this moment, the middle-aged man rowing the boat pulled Brian Carter up onto the boat with the rope, looked up at the much taller Brian Carter, and spoke. Although his accent was heavy and his words unclear, Brian Carter still understood him.