Chapter Twenty: Shang Wenyi

The morning sun spilled across the earth, yet Su Bai remained asleep by the now-cold ashes of his campfire, a faint smile lingering on his lips. The past month had wrung every ounce of strength and resilience from his body and spirit. Pressured by the imperial court, he had survived alone, squeezed into the narrowest crevices of fate. Now, at last, he could sleep soundly without fearing the next moment would bring his doom, and he slumbered on until midday.

But as autumn gave way to winter, the air turned sharp and cold. No matter how desperately Su Bai wrapped himself in his straw mat, threads of chill still crept in, making him shiver uncontrollably.

“Achoo!” At last, a loud sneeze pulled Su Bai from his dreams.

He yawned slowly, blinking sleep from his eyes, then sat there for a moment, staring blankly into the distance. Only after a while did he shake his head and return to himself.

Feeling the state of his body, Su Bai gave a wry smile. “Without that constant pressure, I really am starting to slack off. I still have a long journey ahead today!”

He led over the horse he’d stolen, and after some effort, managed to mount it. Looking at his small, frail frame, he sighed. “This body is still so young—everything is inconvenient. If only I had a few more years, I might have grown into it.”

He stroked the fine horse with care. In his previous life, he often helped at a stable during school holidays, and, under the guidance of the owner and others, had picked up some basic riding skills. Who would have thought they’d come in handy now?

But the most urgent matter was to find a way to sell the horse. After all, a ten-year-old child leading such an animal back and forth was bound to draw unwanted attention.

As he walked, Su Bai mulled over his predicament. “Am I really safe now? This horse was stolen from the Embroidered Guards. If they discover it, I’ll be in serious trouble. Luckily, I smeared the saddle with mud to disguise its appearance. But even so, given how mismatched I look atop this horse, anyone could see through me. I need to find a stable and trade horses as soon as possible, or I’ll stand out like a sore thumb.”

But another thought troubled him. “With the way I look, even if I try to sell the horse, it’s unlikely anyone will offer me a fair price. They’ll surely take advantage of my youth, and besides, I don’t really understand how things are valued in this world. It seems my only choice is to trade the horse. But where can I find someone to do that? Anyone with sense will suspect the horse’s origins. At best, I’ll waste my breath; at worst, someone might report me—and then I’ll lose everything. But if someone actually wants the horse, they probably can’t afford it. Where am I going to find a rich and foolish young landowner?”

Before he could devise a plan, his stomach’s “lunch bell” interrupted his thoughts.

“Ah, well.” Su Bai sighed. “As always, nothing matters more than filling the stomach. But my pockets are emptier than my face—where am I supposed to find food?”

It’s no joke that a single coin can defeat the bravest hero.

As Su Bai trudged onward, the surrounding crowds grew denser. He realized he was drawing close to Yueming City—a settlement ranked among the top hundred in the Ming Empire for its prosperity, and the nearest city to the Dayan Sect.

But the more prosperous the city, the stricter the entry checks. Any city ranked in the empire’s top hundred had to maintain low crime rates, proper tax collection, and pleasing cityscapes. Without thorough inspections, chaos would reign. Yet the bustling crowds made such checks a daunting task, so the authorities constantly devised new methods.

“If I remember correctly, you need a wooden identity token to enter the city, and they use a lodestone to check for weapons,” Su Bai recalled from his years of reading. “I might be able to sneak in with a merchant caravan, but I’m not sure if my concealed blade will pass the lodestone test.” He touched the flexible ring-blade at his waist, worried. After all, he’d never checked what metal it was made from; if it contained iron, cobalt, or nickel, he’d be in trouble.

After some thought, Su Bai decided to play it safe. He found a prominent tree, buried the blade beneath it, and marked the spot with a few blades of grass before breathing a sigh of relief.

But after just a few steps, unease pricked at his heart. He looked back at the burial spot, frowned, then forced himself to walk away.

“Maybe I just didn’t sleep well—why am I so jumpy?” he muttered, half-laughing at himself.

Yueming City, Xiao Residence

“Hey! Where did my Black Lion go?” A boy of sixteen or seventeen searched the courtyard anxiously.

Just as he was at his wits’ end, a portly middle-aged man approached. “Young master, what are you looking for?”

“My Black Lion!” Xiao Kang didn’t even bother glancing at him, but then, struck by a thought, turned and said excitedly, “Take some men and help me search. Whoever finds Black Lion will be handsomely rewarded!”

Meanwhile, not long after Su Bai left the tree, a massive dog over two meters long appeared there, nose to the ground as if it had caught a scent...

Outside the city gates, Su Bai crouched, clutching his stomach and resisting the pangs of hunger.

It was as if the heavens were toying with him: an entire day had passed, and not even a small trade caravan had shown up. The only sizable procession had been a funeral earlier that afternoon...

Hours of waiting had left Su Bai’s legs trembling, his body faint with hunger. He had considered hunting wild rabbits or pheasants, but what if a caravan passed by while he was gone? With no choice, he resigned himself to his fate.

Another hour slipped away. Su Bai, growing weaker, had no option but to accept his misfortune.

“It seems today is wasted after all. I should at least find something to eat first.”

Just as despair set in, the distant clatter of hooves and wagon wheels suddenly rose, snapping Su Bai to attention. The sharp neigh of a horse jolted him awake, banishing hunger and fatigue.

He quickly brought forth his horse, preparing to hitch a ride with the caravan, but then stopped short, stunned.

The caravan’s scale was so vast, it impressed even him, despite his experience from a previous life. Dozens of wagons moved in orderly procession along the broad official road. The thunder of thousands of hooves drowned out the chatter of the crowd. Hundreds of armored guards flanked either side, bows and crossbows at their backs, swords at their waists, exuding a chilling aura even unsheathed. The scene called to mind the lines of Master Du on military convoys: “The carts rumble, the horses neigh, each traveler with bow and arrow at his waist.”

The leading carriage was surrounded by a dozen iron-clad riders. The crisp jingle of bells drifted on the wind, and in a moment, the luxurious coach swept by, leaving a faint fragrance in its wake—not as pungent as the imported scents from the Western Regions, but enough to cloud Su Bai’s senses, leaving him standing like a fool, savoring the memory.

By the time he recovered, the carriage was already a dozen yards away. Su Bai grabbed the reins and sprinted after it, moving with a vigor that belied a day and night of hunger.

The city guards, busy searching the commoners, halted their work at the sight of the impressive caravan. When they saw the simple “Merchant” character on the flag, they changed their tune, rushing forward to curry favor.

Su Bai arrived, breathless, hoping to sell his horse and slip into the city under the caravan’s cover.

To his surprise, the crowd around the carriage was so thick that his small, frail body could not break through. He could only watch anxiously.

“I can’t let this chance slip by—who knows how long I’d have to wait for another? If I miss the Dayan Sect’s recruitment, I’ll have to seek another path again.”

Summoning his last reserves of strength, Su Bai shoved his way through the onlookers, only to stumble and fall face-first in front of the carriage, the iron-shod hooves of the horse mere inches from his face.

His sudden intrusion angered the city guards. They had hoped to earn generous tips from the merchants, but this boy’s interruption ruined their plans.

“You unruly brat! How dare you behave so recklessly in front of the Shang family’s carriage! You must have a death wish—let me teach you some manners!” A guard raised his halberd, swinging it down at the terrified Su Bai.

It wasn’t that Su Bai didn’t want to dodge; the halberd simply moved too fast, and he, a frail child, had no chance to escape.

Just as the crescent blade drew within three feet, a crisp voice called from the carriage, “Spare him!”

At the same time, a long-bearded man of about fifty at the front of the carriage opened his eyes. Drawing his sword, he hurled it toward Su Bai, striking the halberd inches above Su Bai’s head.

The clang of metal rang out, making Su Bai cover his ears, the sharp sound echoing in his skull.

Before the ringing faded, his eyes were drawn to the scene before him—so were the eyes of the crowd, especially the men, many of whom