Chapter Thirty-Eight: Entering Athens

"This is the Hanfu I made: the Chan Yu." Wang Dongwei carefully handed a neatly folded set of clothing, including an undergarment, to Yan Luo. "The Chan Yu, also called the 'Straight Robe,' is described in ancient texts: 'The straight robe is called Chan Yu.' It first appeared during the Spring and Autumn and the Warring States periods."

"What I made is strictly the straight robe Shenyi, inspired by Zhu Xi's design: round sleeves, square collar, black edging, broad sash, but without the black cap or headscarf. Also, I only used white and blue linen—no other colors."

"Honestly, these two colors, white and blue, are excellent for men's Hanfu."

"They fit the spirit of the Han people."

Over the past two days, Yan Luo had memorized and even recited a vast amount of ancient cultural knowledge. He dressed in the straight robe Shenyi with practiced ease, instantly transformed into a scholar from a period drama.

Seeing the tall man, standing six feet, with fair ivory-toned skin, a face like jade, and an upright posture, Wang Dongwei couldn't help but admire him, saying, "Truly... a gentleman like jade in the fields, unmatched in the world."

"No matter how much you praise me, I won't be pleased," Yan Luo replied with a blank expression. He took out the Coiled Dragon Staff, a steel weapon weighing sixty-two pounds, secured it with two cloth straps, and slung it across his back.

"You should carry the Han sword—the eight-sided Han sword goes well with Hanfu."

"There’s an old saying: A gentleman wears a sword; I’ve never heard of a gentleman carrying a staff." Wang Dongwei handed him the sword.

"In this era, a long weapon signifies advanced technology and production. This Coiled Dragon Staff is 2.4 meters long, sixty-two pounds of solid steel. Such a weapon would intimidate even the Greeks."

Hearing Yan Luo's reasoning, Wang Dongwei thought it over and agreed, dropping his insistence. He took a piece of jade from his phone’s inventory.

"A magic treasure?" Zhu Xiaoyong exclaimed, eyeing the jade, its front a pure blue, its back gold-red, featuring a dragon coiled above a cloud fungus. The design reminded him irresistibly of a cultivation talisman.

"How could it possibly be a magic treasure!" Wang Dongwei shook his head in exasperation. "It's just an ordinary jade piece. I exchanged two hundred points of bio-energy for it. No special effects—just a decoration I liked."

"Yan Luo, hang this jade at your waist."

"If it has no effects, why make Yan Luo wear it?" Zhu Xiaoyong asked, puzzled. He felt the jade; it wasn't a precious Hetian jade, and wouldn't fetch much on the open market. Two hundred points of bio-energy seemed madness.

"A gentleman is like jade. Jade is the finest of stones; a gentleman is a person of virtue. Jade values quality, not color; a gentleman values character, not status, wealth, or appearance, but cultivation and morality. The gentleman compares his virtue to jade. A gentleman never parts with his jade."

"Sword and jade, both are marks of the gentleman. Yan Luo, as our chief negotiator among the three 'Huaxia' envoys, must embody the refined character of the Huaxia gentleman."

This time, Yan Luo didn’t refuse, attaching the dragon jade to his belt.

In fact, his hair also bore an ornament: the Mask of Joy, Anger, Sorrow, and Happiness.

"All right, let's go! Zhu Xiaoyong, remember: whatever happens, don't disgrace yourself! If you mess up, don’t blame me for treating you as a stranger from now on!" Wang Dongwei’s tone was stern; last time, if not for him, this couch potato would have died.

"Relax, Brother Wang. I may be fat and a homebody, but I’m not stupid."

Zhu Xiaoyong wore a different outfit from Yan Luo—a collared long robe, its loose cut making him appear a bit slimmer. Wang Dongwei himself wore the Lan Shan, a sleeveless long robe from the Tang dynasty, popular during Song and Ming.

Wang Dongwei had an eight-sided Han sword at his waist. Zhu Xiaoyong wrapped his ghost-head broadsword in cloth and slung it across his back like Yan Luo.

"Let's go."

Yan Luo led the way, bearing the staff and jade, with Wang Dongwei and Zhu Xiaoyong on either side behind him.

A carriage waited in the Karta camp, ready to take them into Athens. Once they boarded, the four-wheeled coach sped away.

Athens at this hour was packed with people. Not only had over seven thousand men among thirty thousand citizens come out, but women and children lined the streets as well. Yet most numerous were the foreigners—curious and amused by the Eastern envoys’ challenge to Athens.

It was a spectacle.

Many dressed in their finest; the city had been cleaned. The arrival of foreign envoys was an event for any nation. Emperor Yang of Sui even decreed that vegetables sold in the capital must be displayed on dragon-beard mats, and willows wrapped in silk when foreign emissaries arrived. Athens now hoped to impress these three Easterners with its strength and prosperity.

Pericles, five hundred councilmen, dozens of elders, and scholars awaited the Huaxia envoys in the Parthenon, the temple of Athena, goddess of wisdom.

The carriage entered Athens without pause, stopping only at the main gate of the Acropolis.

Yan Luo, Wang Dongwei, and Zhu Xiaoyong stepped down, instantly confronted by the crowd and the buildings and temples atop the hill.

On the slopes dotted with greenery, ancient stones and towering pillars stood in neat rows, the tall, immaculate temples glowing white. Even modern visitors would feel the solemn weight of civilization.

Yan Luo gazed at the Parthenon, which, under the morning sun, seemed bathed in gold.

"Are those the Easterners? Huaxia—never heard of it."

"Only three! How dare they slight Greece!"

"They’re wearing linen? How strange... Why aren't they dressed like the clothes offered to Pericles, the governor? Hmph! Must be that such clothes are rare in their country, so they brought them to shock us."

"Look! That young man in front—he’s carrying a staff! It’s so long—looks like it’s made entirely of iron?"

"Impossible! I’m a blacksmith; no way could a staff of solid iron that long be forged—it would break in the middle. These foreigners must be using it to scare us. Ridiculous!"

...

The buzz of conversation filled the air; many Athenians eyed the three with hostility. Under thousands of scrutinizing eyes, the trio began their ascent on foot.

Yan Luo’s face remained composed and his gaze steady as he walked up the mountain path.

In the past two days, he had learned from Wang Dongwei about the nine deportments from the Book of Rites: dignified footing, respectful hands, steady gaze, controlled speech, quiet voice, upright head, solemn breath, virtuous stance, and dignified expression. Now, he maintained utmost decorum—steady steps, forward gaze, neither arrogant nor servile.

Carrying the sixty-two-pound Coiled Dragon Staff was no easy task. The Mask of Joy, Anger, Sorrow, and Happiness on his hair was set to "Sorrow." His physical strength was only 1.1 times average, but at least the weak emotion could be suppressed and wouldn’t affect his bearing.

Wang Dongwei was anxious. Never before in the real world had he been watched by so many people; the pressure was suffocating. The obese Zhu Xiaoyong was even more pale and trembling.

"Uh... Brother Wang, I’m so nervous, I need to pee..." Zhu Xiaoyong whispered in Han language.

"Hold it! Right now, we represent not just ourselves, but the dignity of Huaxia!" Wang Dongwei gritted his teeth, suppressing his panic. "Don’t look at the Greeks—watch Yan Luo’s back. We walk behind him, ignore everything else!"

"Calm down, calm down..."

Zhu Xiaoyong silently recited this, looking at Yan Luo. Despite carrying the heavy staff, Yan Luo’s back was straight, his steps measured—each as if taken with a ruler. Somehow, this sight steadied his nerves.

Athenians, foreigners, even slaves—many brought along to flaunt before the envoys—watched with curiosity, indifference, or mostly anger as Yan Luo, expressionless, walked step by step up the hillside, finally reaching the square before the Parthenon.

There he saw the governor, clad in a leather jacket and thermal pants, holding a scepter, and a crowd of scholars, elders, and councilmen in chitons.

A man stepped forward, blocking their way.

Yan Luo observed him: about fifty, weathered face, curled beard, arm clutching a book bound with Egyptian papyrus, the title inscribed in Greek: "History." The man bent slightly, performed an ancient Greek salute, and spoke:

"I am Herodotus."