Chapter 82

* * *

Jeliang grilled Zhang Jian on how he managed to drive away the evil spirits.

However, Zhang Jian also had only a rough idea of how the power of the Shaolin Lion's Roar affected the evil spirits, how the spirits and the natives' wills could take on physical form, and why Xunma was not seriously injured by the arrows. In the end, his answers to Jeliang's questions had to be brief.

“I don't really know.”

“...So you just relied on your martial arts and willpower to fight?”

Zhang Jian chuckled and tilted his head.

“Is it really that grand?”

“It's not grand, but it seems to be the truth. In that unrealistic situation, who could have trusted their sword enough to face it? Most so-called martial artists would have run away and been hit by arrows in the back.”

Despite the words that seemed to elevate him, Zhang Jian only smiled faintly. Seeing his smile, Jeliang, who had been sitting in the swaying carriage, began to ponder something deeply. When he became so quiet, Xunma, who was sitting on the driver's seat, finally spoke.

“...Zhang Warrior, I didn't have a chance to say it earlier because of the chaos, but thank you very much. If it weren't for you, I would have been skewered and killed while running away. You are my savior. If you ever need help in the future, just call me. I will do everything in my power to assist you.”

Without any formalities or polite exchanges, Zhang Jian simply nodded. In fact, since the evil spirits targeted all Central Plain people, he had fought to survive. Of course, Xunma also understood this point. Regardless, he owed his life to Zhang Jian.

As the sun was setting, they discovered a village. It was a fairly large village, suggesting that many travelers passed through this plain. The prospect of staying at an inn for the night brightened the faces of all three of them.

The villagers and the innkeeper looked at the half-broken carriage with curiosity, as if amazed that it could still roll. Ignoring their gazes, the three of them booked rooms, cleaned up, and then gathered for dinner.

After a satisfying meal and a few drinks, they finally sighed in relief, releasing the tension that had built up since the morning.

As they sipped their tea in a daze, Jeliang, who had been silent until then, finally spoke.

“Zhang Warrior.”

Zhang Jian looked at him as if waiting for him to speak. Jeliang swallowed and continued.

“...You said you are a wanderer. How long have you been traveling like this?”

“Well, I've stayed in one place for months at a time. It's been quite a while. A few years, I guess.”

“Your martial arts are quite impressive. Have you ever hunted bandits and received bounties?”

“Yes, I have. Bounties are paid immediately, so it's a good way to make a quick profit.”

Jeliang nodded.

“That's right, yes... Is Zhang Jian your real name?”

Zhang Jian chuckled, a smile that seemed to ask what kind of question this was.

“Yes, it is. I've had that name since birth.”

“...Then, have you heard of the name Wu Ming Xia (Nameless Hero)?”

“Wu Ming Xia?”

Zhang Jian, who had been tilting his head, remembered that he had heard this name from Xue Miaojin and Princess Yuxue.

“Isn't that the name of a popular dime novel in the Central Plains these days?”

“Yes, it's a novel. It tells the story of a hero who drives away bandits attacking people, chases away corrupt merchants who mistreat ordinary villagers, uncovers conspiracies in the city, and fights evil demons.”

Zhang Jian smiled again as he looked at Jeliang, who was speaking.

“Thanks to that novel, some people have developed fantasies about the New Continent.”

“...Fantasies. Yes, the confrontation between the hero and the villain is, after all, a dramatized story. The gritty details are omitted, and only the exciting parts are kept.”

Jeliang looked at Zhang Jian intently as he spoke. When Zhang Jian's puzzled expression deepened at this incomprehensible story, Jeliang took out a book and a brush from his robe, wrote something, tore the paper, and handed it to Zhang Jian.

“Whenever you want, bring this paper to my mansion in Tianhou City. Since you've saved my life twice, I should repay you, shouldn't I?”

When Zhang Jian took the paper, he saw the words "Certificate of Gratitude" and what appeared to be Jeliang's signature. After confirming this, he asked Jeliang curiously.

“Twice?”

“If you visit with this paper, even if I'm not there, my butler will prepare a proper thank you. If you find it troublesome to keep the paper, just mention the name of Zhang Warrior. In any case, please visit me later. I'm going to bed now, I'm tired.”

Jeliang gave an unexpected answer to Zhang Jian's question and then went up to his room. Zhang Jian, bewildered, looked at Xunma with a questioning gaze, but Xunma nodded as if he understood something and smiled strangely.

Zhang Jian didn't think too deeply about it. He was a bit tired from the fight earlier in the day, and the fatigue and fullness made his head feel heavy. He folded the certificate of gratitude and put it in his robe, then went up to his room and fell into a deep sleep.

* * *

“You must visit Tianhou City, you must. If you don't, I might come looking for you.”

Jeliang earnestly urged Zhang Jian as they parted ways. Given his sincere tone, Zhang Jian had no choice but to agree. However, with such a heavy request, it was uncertain whether he would really visit.

In the morning, Jeliang and Xunma said they would return to Tianhou City by boat from Jiangshan and headed west, while Zhang Jian set his course northeast to find the valley tribe he had visited before.

As he rode Zaozao slowly, Zhang Jian couldn't help but laugh when the heavy load in his robe jiggled. Jeliang, who had promised to repay him if he visited, had handed him a bag, saying it was all he had at the moment. When Zhang Jian took it, the bag was full of silver coins.

He still had the silver ingots from the last market chaos in Zaozao's saddlebag, and now his robe was also full.

Zhang Jian took out a small piece of paper and tobacco from his robe and rolled a cigarette. He had bought it in the last village after not being able to smoke for a while due to the lack of a market. He lit the cigarette with his index finger, adjusted his conical hat, and naturally exhaled smoke while riding Zaozao.

For a few days, he camped and followed a familiar path north. The last time he had traveled this route south, it was the beginning of winter, and it felt like the cold was pushing him away. Now, the warmer weather seemed to welcome him.

Gradually, the grassy plain gave way to more undulating hills and mountains. Between the hills and mountains, valleys and rivers flowed. In the narrow, rocky upper reaches, white foam formed, while in the wide, slow-moving lower reaches, fish splashed.

The tall, straight conifers cast long and short shadows depending on the position of the sun, creating a picturesque scene. When he stopped to rest, the slow movement of the shadows gave him a strange feeling.

Zhang Jian entered the backbone of the New Continent, which, along with the southern desert, had delayed the eastern expansion of the Central Plain people. After a long journey through the forest and valleys, he was leisurely riding Zaozao when a group of about six natives appeared and blocked his path, having been hiding in the trees and bushes.

The largest of the natives stepped forward and shouted in somewhat broken Central Plain language.

“Stop, no Central Plain people allowed here. Vagabond, go away.”

In response to the shout, Zhang Jian lifted his conical hat slightly and said.

“Long time no see, Shan Xiong?”

The native who had stepped forward, as well as the others, were surprised to see his face.

“Zhang Jian!”

The entire tribe became lively again after a long time. The benefactor who had left like the wind had returned.

Warriors, adults, and children alike gathered to see his face. Red Wind, the warrior guarding the village, laughed heartily and patted Zhang Jian on the back.

“Who is this! The benefactor of our tribe who left like a drifting cloud! You left so abruptly without even having dinner!”

“It's been a while, Red Wind.”

Zhang Jian smiled faintly and shook hands with him. The surrounding tribe members cheered lightly at the sight. Zhang Jian looked around, a bit embarrassed.

“...The welcome is beyond what I imagined.”

“Of course! Look at all the good you've done for our tribe!”

Unlike Zhang Jian, who was surprised by the welcome, Zaozao seemed delighted by the tribe members' petting and attention. He even approached the tribe women and rubbed his head against them.

Zhang Jian looked at him with a bemused expression, and suddenly the tribe members fell silent. Then, the people surrounding him moved to one side, opening a path. An old man with a cane slowly walked down the path.

The old man had one eye open, which was red. Zhang Jian remembered that the other eye was silver.

Called One-Eyed Cloud, the old man approached Zhang Jian and looked up at him, leaning on his cane.

“Good to see you again, Zhang Jian. It's really great to meet you again while I'm still in good health.”

“It's good to see you again, One-Eyed Cloud.”

One-Eyed Cloud smiled, his sternness gone.

“But there's someone who will be even happier to see you than me or the other tribe members.”

Zhang Jian looked puzzled at this. Then, the other tribe members opened another path. A woman walked slowly down the path.

She seemed to have just returned from hunting or patrolling, with a bow and arrows on her back. She stopped in front of Zhang Jian. Zhang Jian looked into her golden