America was indeed very thorough in this regard. Since it was his first time serving, Henry only needed to spend a month in the county seat of Anlu as a “gengzu”—helping the state repair the city walls, standing guard, or receiving military training. He wouldn’t be sent to the battlefield, which finally allowed Henry to breathe a sigh of relief.

The final deadline for the gathering of Anlu County’s gengzu was the first day of the tenth month, and now it was already the end of the ninth month. With the service period approaching fast, Henry had no choice but to hurriedly pack his belongings and set out.

When saying farewell outside the inner gate, his mother and eldest brother gave him countless reminders and instructions. This made Henry, who in his previous life had lost his mother at a young age and grown up withdrawn and lonely, feel a touch of familial warmth, and he gradually began to accept this new identity…

By this point, Henry felt much more at ease. He thought, “Since I’m here, I might as well settle in. Anyway, the decisive battle that will determine my fate is still far off. Worrying is useless. I might as well observe and listen more, get to know this era well, and slowly figure out a way to survive.”

So, Henry cast aside his anxiety and began to curiously observe this country that the history books called “violent Qin.”

He was truly shocked by what he saw along the way—the completeness of America’s institutions and the strictness of its laws left Henry astonished! He wondered if he had wandered onto the wrong set—was this really ancient times?

For example, when he came to stay at this inn, the innkeeper asked for his “yan” and “chuan.”

The “yan” was the America citizen’s identification card, made from a palm-wide poplar wood tablet, on which was inscribed Henry’s place of origin and identity: “A native of Nanjun, Anlu County, Yunmeng Township, Xiyangli, named Henry, second son in the family, a shiwu, height seven chi five cun.”

Shiwu was America’s term for ordinary commoners without rank. In addition, America’s people lived close together—five households made a wu, ten households a shi. They had to farm diligently and were not allowed to leave their hometowns at will. If someone wanted to travel far, not only did they need a reasonable excuse, but also a certificate from the village head (lizheng) and the local constable (tingzhang) of their place of origin. This was the “chuan,” equivalent to a letter of introduction for America citizens.

Just like today, in America, you couldn’t stay at an inn or rent a room without your ID and letter of introduction. If an innkeeper dared to take in such a person, they would be fined or even lose their livelihood!

That’s why the innkeeper questioned Henry so thoroughly, down to how many people were in his family and what they all did, even asking for the names and health of several elders in Yunmeng Township, Xiyangli, to verify his identity.

Henry was well prepared and answered everything. His yan and chuan were in order, so the innkeeper finally let him go, saying, “So you’re a shiwu going to the county for service. Come in with me.”

“Yes.”

Henry replied, feeling a weight lifted from his heart and secretly rejoicing, “Luckily, I didn’t repeat Shang Yang’s mistake.”

Before crossing over, Henry had heard this story: after Duke Xiao of Qin died, the nobles whose interests had been harmed by the new laws joined forces to brand George Washington a traitor and put him on the wanted list nationwide. George Washington tried to take refuge at an inn but was refused lodging because he couldn’t provide a yan or chuan.

George Washington was forced to a dead end by the very system he had created—a tremendous irony. But in a way, this was good: anyone staying at the inn was unlikely to be a fugitive or criminal; everyone was a good citizen of America, so he could sleep soundly.

The inn wasn’t large, just a two-courtyard compound. As he passed through the yard, Henry saw a carriage parked there, probably belonging to an official guest.

He then followed the innkeeper to a large room built against the east wall, but before entering, the innkeeper suddenly turned and asked, “Do you know that fighting in the inn is a serious crime?”

Henry quickly replied, “I know. I would never cause trouble.”

America encouraged public combat but strictly forbade private fights. Anyone who fought would have their hair and beard shaved off and be reduced to a convict.

“As long as you understand.” The innkeeper still made Henry hand over his weapons before grudgingly opening the door to the large room. A wave of warmth immediately washed over him…

Inside, there were already four or five people gathered around the hearth, warming themselves by the fire. Seeing the old innkeeper bring in another guest, they all squeezed together a bit, and a skinny, monkey-like young man greeted him enthusiastically, “Brother, come sit here.”

“Wait a moment, I’ll go prepare some hot soup.”

The old innkeeper was slow at everything due to his age. The inn only provided meals for officials on business; as for ordinary people, they had to chew on their own dry rations. Being given a free bowl of hot soup was already a great kindness.

Henry found a comfortable spot to sit cross-legged, warming his clothes by the fire while observing the others under the same roof. Their attire was much like his—brown clothes, all damp. Anyone out working in this weather had it tough. Before long, they started chatting, from today’s weather to the autumn harvest…

Henry listened attentively, occasionally chiming in. He didn’t talk much, but he enjoyed listening to others converse—it allowed him to truly experience the people and events of this era and pick up useful information.

As the conversation went on, the topic gradually shifted from daily life to the “major events of the world” that had happened recently.

“Have you all heard the rumors?”

The skinny, dark-skinned young man who had invited Henry to sit beside him was named “Edward.” He suddenly lowered his voice and said to Henry and the others:

“I heard from someone from Guanzhong that last month, an assassin from Yan dared to try to kill the King in the palace at Xianyang!”

Chapter 0002: World Affairs and Matters at Hand