Across the boundless steppe, the iron chariot roared like a thunder beast, racing wildly over the grassland. Its wheels tore through the earth, sending dust swirling into the sky behind it.
Far to the rear, the Mongol cavalry struggled to keep pace. One by one, the riders fell behind, their figures gradually shrinking until they became distant specks upon the horizon.
Inside the vehicle, however, Genghis Khan and his two sons showed no discomfort. On the contrary, their faces shone with excitement.
The wind whipped past them, tugging at their hair and garments, yet they leaned forward eagerly, as though embracing the speed itself.
"Hahaha! Your iron chariot runs like the wind!" Genghis Khan laughed heartily. "I have never experienced such speed before—it feels as though we are flying!"
As he spoke, he stretched his head out of the window and leaned half his body outside, allowing the wind to rush past him.
Chen Rong's heart nearly stopped.
"Great Khan, please sit back inside!" he said quickly, easing his foot off the accelerator. "If you lean out like that, it could be dangerous."
He tightened his grip on the steering wheel, his thoughts racing.
If anything happened to him here…
If Genghis Khan were thrown from the vehicle…
The consequences would be unimaginable.
He might not even live long enough to explain himself before the Mongol cavalry cut him down.
Genghis Khan laughed loudly, completely unconcerned.
"It is nothing! We Mongols grow up on horseback. A little bump is nothing to me."
From the rear seat, Ögedei also laughed.
"Mr. Chen, do not worry so much. When we were young, we often fell from our horses. Mongols are not as delicate as people from the Central Plains."
Tolui nodded in agreement.
"Just drive. There is no need to worry about us."
Before Chen Rong could respond, the two princes followed their father's example. One leaned out on the left, the other on the right, shouting into the wind as they rode across the grassland.
Chen Rong felt a headache coming on.
These three…
They treated this like a wild ride.
Still, he could only slow the vehicle slightly, maintaining enough speed to impress them while reducing the risk.
The iron chariot continued across the vast grassland.
Time passed slowly.
More than an hour later, the Mongol camp had long vanished behind them. Even the cavalry pursuing them had become little more than a distant black dot on the horizon.
The wind howled continuously. Genghis Khan and his sons leaned out intermittently, shouting and singing songs in the Mongolian tongue. Their voices carried across the open steppe, filled with unrestrained joy.
Chen Rong could not understand the lyrics, but the tone was unmistakable—bold, free, and filled with the spirit of the grasslands.
Eventually, their voices grew hoarse.
The three finally withdrew back into the vehicle. Genghis Khan opened the leather wine pouch hanging at his waist and took a long drink of kumiss. The faint sour scent filled the air.
After drinking, he handed the wine pouch to Chen Rong.
"You have driven for a long time. Take a drink."
Chen Rong accepted respectfully.
"Thank you, Great Khan."
He lifted the pouch and took a sip. The sour, slightly fermented taste spread across his tongue before settling warmly in his stomach.
Genghis Khan watched him closely.
When Chen Rong drank without hesitation, the Khan nodded with clear approval. He reached out and patted Chen Rong's shoulder.
"You are different from the generals of the Central Plains. Though they do not say it openly, they dislike the taste of kumiss. You drink it boldly."
Chen Rong wiped his mouth with a faint smile.
"I spent part of my childhood in the Western Regions. I grew accustomed to kumiss, yogurt curds, dried beef, and salted milk tea."
That was not entirely false.
He had indeed encountered similar foods before. Though the taste remained somewhat sour to him, he had learned to endure it.
Better that than offending the Great Khan.
Genghis Khan nodded with satisfaction.
After a brief silence, he glanced at the iron chariot again.
"This iron chariot runs faster than horses," he said thoughtfully. "What does it eat?"
Chen Rong anticipated the question.
"Reporting to the Great Khan, this chariot does not consume grain or fodder like animals. It uses a special light-yellow oil called gasoline. This oil is refined from black oil found in the earth."
"Black oil?" Genghis Khan repeated.
"Yes. It can be refined through heating and distillation. With proper craftsmen and equipment, this fuel can be produced."
Over the past few days, Chen Rong had carefully reviewed information stored on his phone. Among those notes were simple methods for crude distillation. Though primitive, they could produce basic fuel.
Fortunately, alcohol distillation techniques already existed in this era. With slight modifications and careful experimentation, producing crude gasoline might be possible.
And most importantly—
They were currently in a region rich in oil.
This area—near modern-day Afghanistan—contained abundant natural oil seeps. In some places, black oil even surfaced naturally from the ground.
Compared to the Central Plains, where oil deposits lay deep underground, this region offered far easier access.
Genghis Khan listened carefully.
"Very well," he said. "When we return, I will assign craftsmen skilled in distillation to assist you. I will also have black oil delivered. Then you can continue to drive me in this iron chariot."
Chen Rong hesitated briefly before replying.
"Great Khan… this chariot, though gifted by the gods, will not last forever."
Genghis Khan turned his head sharply.
"It can be damaged? Even something given by the gods?"
"Yes," Chen Rong replied calmly. "I once asked the gods about this. They told me that everything in the world has a lifespan. Some objects last only a few years. Others last decades. Even these divine artifacts are made of materials that will eventually wear out."
He paused, choosing his words carefully.
"For now, the chariot functions well. But over time, parts will break. Eventually, it will cease to function entirely."
Genghis Khan fell silent.
After a moment, he spoke slowly.
"You have spoken with Qiu Chuji recently? When you say such things… are you suggesting that all things have limits? That there is no elixir of immortality?"
Chen Rong shook his head.
"I have not left my camp these past few days. The soldiers assigned to me can testify. These thoughts come from what the gods told me."
Genghis Khan stared ahead, his expression thoughtful.
"Everything has a lifespan…" he murmured. "Nothing is eternal. Only the sun, the moon, and the rivers and mountains endure."
Chen Rong hesitated, then spoke.
"Great Khan… even the sun and the earth have lifespans."
Genghis Khan turned sharply.
"What?"
"The gods told me," Chen Rong continued carefully, "that the earth beneath our feet and the sun above us also have lifespans. Their lives are simply so long that mortals cannot comprehend them. That is why we believe them eternal."
He paused.
"The sun in the sky has already lived through half its life."
Genghis Khan's eyes widened slightly.
Even the eternal sun… had a lifespan?
"Is this true?" he asked quietly.
"I would not dare deceive the Great Khan. The gods told me that after countless years, the sun will expand and grow enormous. It will burn the world before finally fading."
Chen Rong spoke calmly, though he knew how shocking these words sounded.
To ancient minds, the sun and moon were eternal symbols. Yet even they would one day fade.
On the endless grassland, the iron chariot continued forward.
Inside, silence settled over the vehicle.
For the first time since the ride began, Genghis Khan did not laugh.
Instead, he stared ahead, deep in thought.