If he truly went to meet Genghis Khan, then with modern knowledge and a few technological advantages in hand, Chen Rong might obtain far greater benefits. Perhaps he could even influence events that would otherwise unfold in blood and ruin.
Historical records indicated that although Genghis Khan believed in Mongol shamanism and revered Eternal Heaven, he did not reject other religions.
On the contrary, he was known for his tolerance and had shown particular favor toward Daoist masters from the Central Plains.
This meant there was an opportunity.
From the era of Genghis Khan to that of Kublai Khan, Mongol forces frequently employed Han Chinese generals and scholars. Talent, regardless of origin, was valued—especially if it appeared mysterious, useful, or divinely favored.
But Chen Rong understood one thing clearly: appearing before Genghis Khan as an ordinary man would gain him nothing. At best, he would be ignored. At worst, he might be treated with suspicion or even executed.
No—he needed an identity. Something mysterious. Something that could not be easily dismissed.
Something that would make even a conqueror hesitate.
Religion… prophecy… immortals…
The thought formed quickly in his mind, and within moments, Chen Rong devised a plan that seemed both risky and feasible.
At that moment, footsteps approached.
"Sir Chen—ah, forgive me—sir," Liu Zhonglu said respectfully as he approached the off-road vehicle. In his hands, he carried a roasted leg of lamb, its golden skin glistening with fat, the rich aroma drifting through the cold night air.
"This is the lamb we have just roasted. I have brought it especially for you."
"Thank you, General. You may simply call me 'sir,'" Chen Rong replied with a nod.
He stepped down from the vehicle, still feeling slightly unsteady. The night wind was cold, and the flickering bonfires cast shifting shadows across the grassland.
The Mongol cavalry, though pretending to be at ease, continued to glance toward the steel vehicle with wary expressions.
Chen Rong accepted the roasted lamb. He was indeed hungry. Tearing off a piece of meat with his fingers, he placed it into his mouth.
The flavor was surprisingly good—fresh, tender, and smoky. Though lacking seasoning, it was far from unpleasant.
"As long as it pleases you, sir," Liu Zhonglu said with a faint smile. Then, after a brief hesitation, he asked cautiously, "May I ask which sect you belong to? If I am to write to the Great Khan, it would be helpful to explain your background."
Chen Rong paused, chewing slowly.
This was the moment.
"I am but an unlearned wanderer," he replied calmly. "Tell me—what year is it now? Does the Emperor of Han still rule?"
Let me fool you first.
The words left Liu Zhonglu stunned.
"The Emperor of… Han?"
His eyes widened in disbelief. The Han Dynasty had fallen nearly a thousand years ago. Why would this man ask such a question?
"Why do you ask, sir?" Liu Zhonglu asked carefully.
Chen Rong lowered his gaze, as if recalling distant memories.
"To avoid the chaos when Yuan Shao attacked Cao Cao," he said slowly, "I fled into the mountains and accidentally entered the dwelling of an immortal. I remained there for three years.
Only this morning did I leave. I do not know whether the war has ended… or whether it is safe to return home."
The surrounding soldiers fell silent.
Liu Zhonglu stared at him, unable to hide his shock.
"Sir… are you saying… you fled during the late Han wars… and entered the residence of an immortal?"
"Yes," Chen Rong replied, his tone steady. "Three years have passed. I only wish to know whether peace has returned." Can I return to my hometown.
Liu Zhonglu inhaled sharply.
"Sir… the Han Dynasty has been gone for nearly a thousand years."
Chen Rong widened his eyes, as though struck by thunder.
"A thousand years? Impossible. I was gone only three years."
"I dare not deceive you," Liu Zhonglu replied, his voice trembling. "After the Han Dynasty fell, the realm split into Wei, Shu, and Wu. Later, the Jin Dynasty unified the land. After that came the Sui, then the Tang… and now, more than a thousand years have passed."
The silence deepened.
Even the crackling of the campfire seemed unusually loud.
If this man spoke the truth…
Then he had lived since the late Han Dynasty?
Had he truly entered the realm of immortals?
Liu Zhonglu felt a chill run down his spine.
Was this… a celestial being?
Genghis Khan had summoned Master Changchun to inquire about immortality. Yet now, before them, stood a man who claimed to have entered the dwelling of immortals himself.
Could Heaven truly be guiding this encounter?
"As the general says," Chen Rong murmured, maintaining his expression of stunned disbelief, "has a thousand years truly passed in the mortal world… while I spent only three years in the immortal realm?"
"I dare not lie to you, sir. More than a thousand years have indeed passed since the end of the Han Dynasty. The former Han Emperor has long since passed away." Liu Zhonglu said.
Chen Rong nodded slowly, as if struggling to accept the truth.
"Then… tell me," he asked quietly, "how does this Great Khan compare to the emperors of old?"
Liu Zhonglu stiffened slightly at the question. After a brief pause, he shook his head.
"I dare not answer that," he said quietly.
He truly did not dare.
No matter how he answered, it could bring trouble. The world at present was filled with rulers, each claiming supreme authority.
There was the emperor of the Zhao Song, the ruler of Western Xia, the emperor of Jin, the king of Dali, the sovereign of Western Liao, the Sultan of Khwarezm in the far west—and now, rising above them all, the Great Khan of Mongolia.
To compare one openly with another was dangerous ground, especially before a stranger whose origins were unclear and whose methods seemed almost supernatural.
Chen Rong noticed the hesitation and fell silent, though the question lingered in his mind.
Before Liu Zhonglu could speak further, another voice entered.
"Sir… could this be like the saying—'a few days in the mountains, a thousand years in the mortal world'?"
Qiu Chuji—Master Changchun—stepped forward slowly, holding his horsetail whisk in one hand. His aged eyes rested carefully on Chen Rong, as though studying something beyond ordinary understanding.
Chen Rong blinked, slightly startled by the question.
Qiu Chuji's gaze grew more thoughtful.
Three years… if what this man implied was true, then more than a thousand days had passed. Could it be like the old tales—one day in the heavens, one year on earth?
The thought stirred a memory.
During the Western Jin Dynasty, there had once been a man named Wang Zhi. One day, while gathering firewood in the mountains, he came upon two young boys playing chess deep within a secluded valley.
Wang Zhi himself was skilled at the game, and he was immediately drawn in by the children's extraordinary moves. Their play was refined and effortless, far beyond anything he had ever seen.
The boys seemed unaware of his presence. As they played, they casually ate jujubes, sometimes even handing a few to Wang Zhi. He accepted them absentmindedly, his attention fixed entirely on the chessboard.
After what felt like a single match, one of the boys looked up and spoke calmly.
"It is time for you to return home."
Wang Zhi nodded and bent down to retrieve his axe. But when he reached for it, he froze.
The wooden handle had completely rotted away. Only the rusted iron head remained.
Startled, Wang Zhi hurried back to his village—only to find that nothing looked familiar. The houses were different, the people strangers.
When he asked about his family, he learned that his parents had died more than a hundred years earlier.
Only then did he realize that what seemed like a brief moment in the mountains had been a century in the mortal world.
Qiu Chuji's fingers tightened slightly around the whisk.
If the man before him truly came from another time—if his strange iron mount and lightning weapons were not tricks but genuine marvels—then perhaps…
If this man spoke truth…
Then he had truly encountered immortals ?
In Daoist teachings, such tales were not impossible. Immortals wandered between realms, untouched by ordinary time, appearing briefly before vanishing again.
Qiu Chuji studied Chen Rong more intently, his eyes filled with cautious curiosity.
"Indeed," Chen Rong replied calmly. "The immortal entertained me for three years. This morning, he told me that great changes would soon occur in the world. A peerless hero would rise. He instructed me to leave and witness these events."
Liu Zhonglu's eyes lit with excitement.
"A peerless hero? Then surely this refers to the Great Khan! Heaven itself has sent him to meet Great Khan!"
He was now thoroughly convinced.
This man could emit lightning from his palm, rode a roaring steel beast, and possessed shining glass windows like the moon. None of these were mortal things.
Liu Zhonglu hurried back to camp.
That very night, he wrote a letter describing everything in detail. When finished, he summoned a Mongol cavalryman and ordered him to ride with three horses in rotation, traveling day and night without rest, to deliver the message to Genghis Khan's western expedition camp.
Meanwhile, Master Changchun approached and asked once more.
"Sir… did you truly enter the dwelling of immortals?"
Chen Rong met his gaze.
"Would I deceive you? I brought many items back from that place."
Master Changchun studied him quietly.
The steel carriage. The lightning. The strange clothing.
None of these resembled worldly objects.
"Heaven has shown you great favor."
He bowed slightly.
With that, he returned to his tent.
Soon, several disciples—including Li Zhichang and Yin Zhiping—gathered around him.
"Master, who is this man?"
"A Han man," Qiu Chuji replied slowly, stroking his beard. "One who accidentally entered the dwelling of immortals."
The disciples gasped.
"Then… has he lived for a thousand years?"
"No," Qiu Chuji said calmly. "He claims he remained there only three years. Yet in this world… more than a millennium passed. As the saying goes—'a few days in the mountains, a thousand years in the mortal world.'"
The camp remained restless that night.
The Mongol soldiers whispered quietly.
The Daoist disciples debated in hushed voices.
And Chen Rong, seated inside his vehicle, watched the distant flames flicker across the grassland.
The first step of his plan… had succeeded.
Many people did not sleep that night.