"How co you can take jobs from others but not from ?"
"Lord Chen has seen far more than we ever have. I’m afraid you’ll look down on our little skills."
"I won’t. I haven’t seen much of anything."
"Lord Chen works for the governnt. How could you not have seen things?"
Chen Yi said, "I’m a virgin."
"......."
No matter how hard Chen Yi pounded on the door, there was no response for a long ti, but his purpose had already been achieved.
With his Sword Qi, Chen Yi swept over the scene inside: three n and one woman. Three of them had Cultivation around the Sixth and Seventh Rank. They didn’t look like Han people, more like they’d co from so Tusi Village. The oldest one was at the Fourth Rank; judging from his clothes, he seed to be from the Naxi Tribe.
.........
The sun was high in the sky when the housekeeper finally slapped Chen Yi awake from his hangover. He yawned nonstop, rubbed his bleary eyes, and staggered over to Yan Kan with unsteady steps, his body still reeking of last night’s wine.
Seeing him so listless and drained, Yan Kan’s face was wreathed in smiles: "Brother Chen, the hour’s about right. Ti to set off."
As he smiled, a flicker of disdain flashed through his eyes. The Prince Mansion might look overwhelmingly powerful on the surface, yet even people from the Zige Bureau turned out to be this sort of trash—good-looking but useless. But if they weren’t like this, how would such a man end up working for them? Thinking of that, his smile grew even more enthusiastic.
Yan Kan led Chen Yi to a carriage covered in thick felt.
A wiry man sat on the front board of the carriage; he was one of the four from upstairs. His eyes swept over Chen Yi with wary vigilance.
Yan Kan patted the carriage shaft: "Brother Chen, everything’s been arranged. You follow this coachman here; when you reach the checkpoint, just show your face and that’s it. Safe travels!"
Chen Yi mumbled an assent, his gaze inadvertently brushing over the carriage. Beneath the heavy felt covering, three familiar auras were condensed inside—the owners of that old voice, the cold sharp woman, and the other rough-voiced man.
The coachman plus the three inside the carriage—three n and one woman. All accounted for.
The carriage creaked away from Xie Maping and rolled onto the ancient Tea Horse Ancient Road. Steep mountains rose on both sides, trees blocking out the sun. The narrow road was packed with deep ruts and hoofprints.
Mist coiled through the deep valleys and would not disperse. Now and then ca the cries of unknown birds or beasts, making the place seem even more deep and silent. The wheels pressed over the muddy road, letting out a monotonous creak.
When they ca to a perilous pass, the garrison blocked the way. The carriage halted, waiting for the checkpoint officer to inspect.
"Stop the cart! Inspection! Papers!"
The checkpoint officer wore a stony face. The coachman handed over the travel permit and cargo manifest. He didn’t hurry to take them; instead he shot a look at the guards beside him. The guards understood at once, opened the manifest, and then craned their necks, wanting to lift the felt and check the carriage.
The checkpoint post was an important position along the frontier, in charge of all passage in and out, examining the goods of rchants and travelers, collecting taxes, curbing smugglers, and checking for spies. Because of this, the more they controlled, the more profit there was to skim.
Only then did Chen Yi slowly hop down from the other side of the carriage board. He pulled out the heavy black Zige Bureau waist token and flashed it before the officer’s eyes, his voice rasping with a hangover: "Zige Bureau business."
The weapon emblem on the token fairly radiated killing intent. The officer’s face changed slightly, and he imdiately called off the guards under him.
He straightened at once, his attitude turning respectful: "So it’s an official of the Prince Mansion. Why didn’t you say so earlier? I was discourteous, discourteous! Let them through!"
The wooden gate of the checkpoint was quickly raised, and the carriage passed without trouble.
After they had gone so way beyond the pass and dusk was drawing near, the carriage stopped. It was ti to camp where they were for the night. Chen Yi rose to gather firewood; when he returned, he found the felt curtain already lifted.
Three figures nimbly jumped down from the carriage—it was the sa three n and one woman from before.
Chen Yi happened to look over, and his face instantly showed shock: "Y–you... who are you? Weren’t we supposed to be hauling cargo... how co... it’s people?"
Mila Gray only shot him a vicious glance. The fierce man gave a derisive snort, waved his hand impatiently, and said in halting Han speech, "Shut up! Things you should not ask... don’t ask! Don’t ddle... in others’ business!"
His gaze was ferocious. Clearly, Chen Yi’s drunken knocking at their door that night, flippantly calling soone "Miss Li," had long since made this man deeply disgusted.
He held that woman called Mila Gray in great admiration.
After that, the man from the Zige Bureau seed cowed by him, muttering "More money, I have to get more money" as he turned away. Jia Bale looked smugly over at Mila Gray.
The group moved on.
Chen Yi had long since learned the nas of the three n and one woman. The woman was called Mila Gray; the other two n were Jia Bale and Xigu, while the Naxi Tribe elder had never revealed his na. Others only addressed him respectfully as Dark Overlord Ba, said to an sothing like "sage" or "elder."
The mountain road grew ever more rugged. As they passed by several Wa Villages, tall wooden poles at the village entrances were shockingly hung with several dried heads, their ferocious faces frozen in the expressions of their final monts—astonishnt, terror, unwillingness...
The Wa Village received their party, setting out wine in the open. Jia Bale was very excited; he slung an arm around Xigu’s shoulders, drinking in great gulps and chatting expansively with the Wa Yi n around them, brimming with boldness.
They shouted loudly in their barbarian language, yelling all sorts of things without restraint. The words tumbled together in a jumble of sounds—basically boasting that in such-and-such tribe, only if you could hunt five or six heads were you a true hero, and so on.
Drunk and flushed, Jia Bale deliberately pointed at those heads and, using barbarian speech, said to Chen Yi off to the side, "See that? Those are all Han dogs’ heads! Scared or not? Hahaha!"
The Wa Yi’s boisterous laughter echoed through the valley.
Chen Yi tilted his head back to look.
The most recently hung child’s topknot still had a red cord tied to it, while the older skulls had weathered into holes, and crows had pecked the eye sockets into black pits.
The wild, cruel laughter rolled over the treetops, startling up a dense cloud of black crows.
Reviews
All reviews (0)