Chapter 1

It was the fifth year of Jiayou.

These years were the best of the entire Northern Song Dynasty, with music and dance, national prosperity, and of course, no connection to strength and might.

But there are always places where the sun does not shine.

A river called Hunzhou flowed gently from the Hengshan Mountains. The villages and hamlets upstream were mostly in ruins, with people living in dilapidated caves, or even unable to afford to build them, half of the people living in shabby huts, wearing tattered clothes, and surviving in this desolate land.

Wangjiazhai was also a dilapidated hamlet.

Wang Ju shook his old hemp robe, gazing at the gray sky, his expression sad. He was fortunate to be reborn, but reborn in this miserable place. To make a living, he had to work as a mule driver.

Smuggled salt, suddenly the image of General He Long waving a kitchen knife flashed in his mind.

Then he looked at his thin and frail body, wanting to shout at the sky, "Damn it."

...

The endless hills and wild ridges were dotted with traces of slash-and-burn farming by the mountain people. However, caught between the Song and Xia dynasties, the area was often ravaged by war, leaving it desolate and overgrown with dense shrubs. The ground was covered with countless wild amaranth, pigweed, and thistles. As the wheels rolled over them, they crushed the plants, releasing a layer of green juice. These mature wild vegetables had many small thorns, which caused a slight tingling pain when they brushed against the villagers' legs.

The world was silent.

Occasionally, a few wild rabbits or deer would dart out from the bushes, looking at the group of people in panic before fleeing into the forest. But the mountain people had no interest in hunting.

"Who's there?" Wang Wei, Wang Ju's second uncle, shouted and darted into the grass.

The mountain people almost simultaneously drew their knives from their backs.

Despite the generous pay—earning 100 strings of cash for a single trip, with each person getting nearly half a string—the danger was no less than that faced by seafarers on the coast.

Any slight rustle of the grass would make them jump.

Two women emerged from the grass, one in her early twenties and the other a teenager, both with swords at their waists, and both very beautiful. However, their clothes were covered in dust, making them look like two stray cats that had been wandering outside for days.

But Wang Ju, standing to the side, could see clearly that despite their ordinary attire, the young woman had a unique aura.

"Looks like one is the mistress and the other is the maid."

The younger woman's face turned slightly pale, and she stammered, "We are lost travelers."

Being a mule driver was dangerous, and although they looked intimidating with their bows and knives, even though they were ordinary weapons, they were still weapons. And with over a hundred men, it was clear that she was frightened.

"Lost?" Zhu Qing, the overseer, stepped forward and asked suspiciously.

It was possible.

Don't assume that just because there was the sun, they could tell the direction. It took a certain amount of time to determine the direction.

But where was the time?

There was, in the city, the most accurate timekeeping device was not the hourglass but the water clock. Even the water clock was only accurate when it was stationary.

Therefore, in an era without a compass and without a local guide familiar with the environment, it was easy to get lost.

However, their business was not something that could be openly discussed.

"Are you all Song people?" the young woman asked calmly.

"Are you from the other side of the mountain?"

"The other side of the mountain?"

"The other side of Hengshan."

"If you say you are from the Western Xia, we are not."

A normal conversation, but actually a strange one, due to the language issue. On the Western Xia side, Han people spoke Chinese, and Qiang people spoke Qiang. The same was true on the Yanzhou side. There were some regional differences, but living on the border for a long time, most Qiang people could speak a few words of Chinese, and Han people could speak a few words of Qiang. Chinese was the mainstream, while Qiang was too varied, with Tibetans, Tanguts, Tuyuhun, and some descendants of the various ethnic groups resettled by the Tang Dynasty.

Zhu Qing thought for a moment, "No, you are from the Central Plains."

He was the overseer for the boss. Because of the rampant smuggling in Yanzhou, there were merchants from all over the Northern Song Dynasty, and he finally recognized the accents of the two women.

The young woman hesitated for a moment, "We are from the Central Plains, where are we?"

Wang Wei said, "Dawoling."

"Where is Dawoling?"

"Second Uncle, don't say more. If you list all the names of the mountains around here, they probably won't understand which is which," Wang Ju said, stepping forward.

He then looked at the two women.

"How did you get here?"

This area was all part of the border region. Wang Ju had previously hunted with his second uncle, but they had never ventured this far.

"We got lost, where is Yanzhou?"

"Even if I tell you where Yanzhou is, can you safely walk back? If you get lost again, you might end up in the Western Xia," Wang Ju said with a laugh.

The border was chaotic. It was a miracle that two women could get lost and still be safe.

"What should we do?" the young maid asked anxiously.

Wang Ju turned to look at everyone, "Zhu Overseer, Uncle, these two women are pitiful. How about this, let them follow us, we'll take them to the main road, and find a cart to send them back to Yanzhou."

Zhu Qing was displeased, "Boy, you're meddling."

"What else can we do? If they keep wandering, something will happen sooner or later."

In this era, women were truly considered goods.

But Wang Ju was still influenced by his previous life's values. Women and children were the weaker ones and needed to be taken care of. Otherwise, even if they didn't end up in the Western Xia, they would eventually be captured by the Qiang people as property.

Zhu Qing frowned.

He hesitated for a long time before finally nodding.

However, the two women looked hesitant.

"We are all Song people," Wang Ju said.

In this chaotic place, being a Song person had many layers of meaning.

The young woman nodded, "Pian'er, let's go with them."

"Let's go," Zhu Qing ordered.

The sound of the wheels started again, and over a hundred people were eerily silent.

"Where are you taking this cargo?" the young maid named Pian'er asked curiously.

"Don't ask," Wang Ju wiped the sweat from his forehead. He couldn't understand the Central Plains dialect. It took him three months to learn the Shaanxi dialect of the Song Dynasty fluently, so how could he recognize the differences in other dialects?

But in Yanzhou and Baoan, there were some merchants from other places, possibly their families, who went out for a walk and got lost, ending up in the border area. But why did these merchants come to Yanzhou and Baoan? Wasn't it for smuggling?

Wang Ju's stern words made the two women close their mouths.

"We're almost there."

Zhu Qing stood on the hilltop and looked northwest.

Wang Ju stopped, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and looked at Zhu Qing.

The mountain wind blew, making Zhu Qing's brown silk robe flutter. The robe was somewhat old, with a few patches at the hem, but he still stood out among the villagers in their tattered hemp clothes.

Wang Ju pointed to the small river below the hill, "Is that the Zangdi River?"

"Yes, after crossing that river, it's the Western Xia territory. Curious, aren't you, little guy?"

Little guy? Wang Ju smiled, feeling a bit speechless.

He wasn't curious at all, and Zhu Qing's statement was incorrect. From Shun'ningzhai to the foot of Hengshan, it couldn't be called Song territory or Western Xia territory. Strictly speaking, it was a no-man's land, a region not governed by any authority.

But what made him curious was that the Song soldiers didn't interfere at all. Had Zhu Qing's boss bribed the Baoan soldiers?

"Let's go."

Zhu Qing ordered.

He didn't ask why Wang Ju, at thirteen, had come to the border to make a living.

Life in the border region was hard, and many children as young as ten or eleven had to take on the responsibilities of adulthood.

The wheels creaked again.

The convoy quickly arrived at the foot of the hill and stopped under Zhu Qing's command.

In front of them was the Zangdi River. Despite its small size, it might be recorded in history due to the wars. Wang Ju squinted, looking at this temporary border river. The small Zangdi River shimmered, the water was clear, and the pebbles and fish in the river were visible. The surroundings were still filled with a desolate and monotonous beauty, but the vague figures on the opposite bank made the villagers tense.

Zhu Qing didn't care, whistling a few times.

Wang Ju immediately saw a man with a shaved head walk out from the opposite side.

Zhu Qing walked up to him, and they talked for a while. Suddenly, many carts, donkey carts, and mule carts appeared on the opposite side. Compared to the human-powered carts on this side, the formation was clearly more luxurious.

Zhu Qing walked back and announced loudly, "The transaction is successful."

With that, both sides sent people to inspect the goods on the opposite side.

Just watching the several Western Xia soldiers with swords inspecting the goods, the over a hundred villagers seemed to hold their breath.

"Khitan raiders, Western Xia captors, Tibetan bandits, Annam slave traders..." Wang Ju thought to himself. At this moment, looking at the tense expressions of the villagers, he truly felt the suffering of the people in the Song border region.