Mount & Blade: Warband in the Sengoku period of Japan

The next morning, Chen Daoyuan prepared the equipment he needed for the trip.

He didn't repeat the foolish mistake of wearing heavy armor on mountain cross-country terrain yesterday. The lamellar armor was packed up and placed on the horse's back along with the four-sided heavy sword. Based on yesterday's experience, wearing raw silk soft armor and chainmail was actually enough to protect against unexpected dangers on the road.

The old man always carried his M4 short knife, which was clipped to his belt. Also hanging on his belt was another of his collection: a Han-style octagonal sword made entirely of Magna-Cut steel.

After finishing the last brown rice ball and the bar of chocolate, Chen Daoyuan, leading his horse, headed south.

The mountain wasn't very steep. It took Chen Daoyuan half a day to cross the ridge and pass through the forest. When he started to feel a little hungry, he finally emerged from the southern forest.

After resting briefly by a small river, Chen Daoyuan continued south along the faint country road. After walking for about an hour, another village came into view.

Compared to the fortified village of Juanhu yesterday, this village, situated on a flat area in the mountains, is more neatly planned and larger in scale.

Chen Daoyuan stopped, equipped himself with lamellar armor and a greatsword, and then continued leading his horse toward the village...

It wasn't that he couldn't ride a horse; the main problem was that the horse's quality was truly worrisome. Not only was it small, but its carrying capacity was also extremely limited. With Chen Daoyuan's physique, even fully armored, after he rode this skinny horse, the horse could only stand still and tremble. So he had no choice but to obediently lead it as a pack animal.

Dressed in menacing armor, carrying a greatsword, and leading his horse, he strolled leisurely along the field road. When the farmers on this side of the mountain saw him, they did not run away, but immediately knelt down in the field, prostrating themselves and kowtowing to him repeatedly.

Chen Daoyuan ignored the farmers and kept walking, soon arriving at the entrance of the village.

Clearly, someone had already informed them on the way, and at the entrance of the village, a samurai lord was waiting in formation with about ten men.

This samurai was not as fierce as Makibori Torajiro. When Chen Daoyuan approached, this middle-aged, bald samurai in a kimono without armor simply placed his hand on the hilt of his sword at his waist and addressed Chen Daoyuan in a defensive posture.

Chen Daoyuan glanced at the middle-aged samurai and the foot soldiers behind him...

The foot soldiers were not as composed as the samurai lord. Their faces, young and old, all wore the same tension and fear. However, the long bamboo spears in their hands were always pointed diagonally to the sky, and they were not laid flat in an attacking posture.

The samurai's shout was probably in Japanese… Chen Daoyuan listened intently. He had studied Japanese, but it was clear that the strange accent and grammar were significantly different from the Japanese he knew. He stood there, clicking his tongue, and looking at the tense yet slightly expectant expression on the samurai's face, he called out in modern Japanese with an Ikebukuro accent, "Arno, can you understand my Japanese?"

"Japanese?" The word "neon" seemed to be used in both ancient and modern times. The samurai paused for a moment, repeated the word, and then burst out another passage of ancient Japanese that left Chen Daoyuan completely bewildered...

Just as he was racking his brains, Chen Daoyuan suddenly had a flash of inspiration and shouted to the samurai who was also deep in thought: "Chinese characters! Chinese characters! Paper! Pen!"

The samurai was taken aback, then pulled out a notebook similar to Torajiro's diary and a brush with its tip covered by an ink bag from his pocket.

Chen Daoyuan planted his spear firmly in the ground, his left hand resting on the Hanba sword hanging at his waist. He slowly walked to the samurai, bent down, and took the note and pen from the samurai, who was no more than 155 cm tall. He turned to a blank page and wrote a line of traditional Chinese characters: "Are you from the Shiba family?"

The samurai glanced at the question on the paper, nodded, then carefully examined Chen Daoyuan's armor. He took the brush, dipped it in ink, and wrote a neat line of running script: "Where do you come from? The Ming Dynasty? Korea?"

Chen Daoyuan's eyes lit up, and he wrote: "I am a citizen of the Ming Dynasty."

The samurai's eyes lit up. He stopped writing with pen and paper and slowly began to speak. After several attempts, he finally managed to pronounce a strange sentence: "My name is Ryokawa Nobutsugu, and I am a samurai from the Ryokawa family, a retainer of the Shiba clan."

Chen Daoyuan was stunned. Good heavens! This samurai couldn't speak modern Japanese, yet he could speak a barely audible, albeit heavily accented, Wu dialect?! "How can he speak Suzhou dialect?"

Liangchuan Xinji tilted his ear to listen for a moment, revealing a hint of pride: "I am a member of the main branch of the Liangchuan clan of the Shiba clan. When I was young, I went to Luoyang to study with my elders. I also took the opportunity to go to sea from Sakai Port and stayed in Ningbo and Suzhou for more than a year. I was even rewarded by the Ming government for helping the local government kill two pirates."

Good heavens, in this desolate wilderness, to actually run into a student who has been to his family's ancestral home... Chen Daoyuan paused for a moment, then said to Liang Chuan Xinji, "I am a descendant of a military family of the Ming Dynasty. While chasing pirates off the coast of Shandong, I was unfortunately stranded on a deserted island. I recently built my own ship and drifted to Japan, wandering through the mountains and losing track of time. Mr. Liang Chuan, do you know what year this is?"

Liang Chuan Xinji seems to be a carefree person. Although he looked at Chen Daoyuan with some doubt on his face, after thinking for a while, he still answered: "It should be the nineteenth year of Jiajing. That's right. When I left the Ming Dynasty sixteen years ago, it was the third year of Jiajing. This year should be the nineteenth year of Jiajing."

Chen Daoyuan was also silently calculating in his mind. The Longqing reign lasted for six years, and the Jiajing reign lasted for forty-five years. He had read "The Fifteenth Year of Wanli" and knew that it was 1587. So, working backward, this year is... 1540?

So I've traveled back in time to Japan in 1540?

After a friendly exchange, Ryokawa Shinji welcomed Chen Daoyuan into the village and served him "the finest rice".

Hmm... Although this stale brown rice with dried radish and radish miso soup doesn't taste as good as MRE... at least it fills my stomach.

During the meal, Chen Daoyuan and Liangchuan Xinji exchanged only a few polite words. It was clear that although the host appeared warm and courteous, he was still wary of Chen Daoyuan. Even though Chen Daoyuan showed some intention to seek refuge, Liangchuan Xinji did not respond to him directly.

Fortunately, at the end of the "banquet," Liangchuan Xinji politely promised to write to his family's main city to report Chen Daoyuan's background and to recommend Chen Daoyuan to the head of the family.

However, it was unclear whether this "ability to write letters" was just empty talk. Chen Daoyuan stayed in Liang Chuanxin's fortified courtyard for three days but did not receive any interview notice from above.

However, instead of the news Chen Daoyuan was waiting for, the village's alarm bells rang first. Liang Chuanxin, his face grim, listened to his subordinates rushing in to report in the main hall of the fortress: "Sir, the Nanbu clan's army has marched south! They've already descended the mountain and will probably be outside the fortress in about half an hour!"

Ryokawa Nobutsugu remained relatively calm: "Approximately how many men are in the enemy's formation?"

"There are at least three hundred men! I saw two hundred and forty or fifty men in the vanguard, and the rearguard is still in the woods. I was in a hurry to come back and report, so I didn't wait for them all to show up."

"Why are you in such a hurry to report? You're probably just trying to escape," Chen Daoyuan thought to himself as he came out after hearing the commotion.

Then, Liang Chuan Xinji, whose face was already deathly pale, turned his gaze to Chen Daoyuan: "Lord Chen? Would you be willing to assist me in battle?"

"Of course." Chen Daoyuan answered decisively, but he couldn't help feeling a little uneasy. Could this "army" of several hundred people have been attracted because he had killed Makibori Torajiro?

Regardless, Chen Daoyuan still decided to go into battle, not for Liang Chuanxinji's sake, but because he really wanted to see how well he could perform in a battle involving hundreds of people.