Chapter 31

In the bleak winter, a rare gathering of seafaring vessels could be seen at the Yuzhou Island Port (near today's Lianyungang), adding some vitality to a season when most people stayed indoors.

In a large brothel, the ship merchant Hu Jingshui, surrounded by women, was loudly boasting.

The cheap perfumes and the smell of reheated cold meat and wine did not affect his mood at all, for he had finally escaped from the deadly Liangshan Marsh.

For merchants like him, who operated in the gray area, this was truly an unforeseen disaster. They had stayed a few extra days in the maritime market, hoping to pick up some leftovers from the major maritime traders and make a good profit by dealing in stolen goods.

Suddenly, a group of men under the banner of Liangshan Marsh attacked the maritime market where these ship merchants had gathered.

Those who were still lingering on shore, along with their wealth and supplies, were plunged into a sea of fire and blood. Various loafers and drunkards took advantage of the chaos to rob and kill, making the situation even worse. Some merchants who were slow to react or to raise their anchors were boarded, and their goods and lives were taken.

Therefore,

As a price for his survival, he generously rented the entire brothel for his sailors and workers to celebrate their escape from death.

Although these women from the Wokou Fusan clan were of third-rate quality, their faces needed to be heavily powdered to cover the wrinkles and spots accumulated from their long years in the trade.

Suddenly, the luxurious and noisy atmosphere was disrupted by a group of intruders. The madam hurriedly led the waiters and guards to greet and test them, but she was slapped hard and fell unconscious against the wall. The waiters and guards were also knocked down one by one.

These men, dressed uniformly and clearly well-trained, pushed through the chaos, leaving a trail of fallen bodies as they made their way to Hu Jingshui in the inner hall.

"Wait until the ninth day of the ninth month, when my chrysanthemums bloom and all other flowers wither. The fragrance will fill Chang'an, and the city will be adorned with golden armor."

The leader of the group suddenly recited a poem to him.

Hu Jingshui mumbled, wanting to complain, but then his shirt was grabbed by a single hand, and his fat, drowsy face was slapped hard, turning red and swollen. A jug of cold wine was poured over him, and the sharp and cold sensation finally woke him up. He pleaded pitifully.

"Gentlemen, let's talk things over. I'll give you whatever you want..."

"Where did you get this poem, 'In Praise of Chrysanthemums'?"

The leader spoke in a calm and steady tone.

"Liangshan, Liangshan Marsh..."

He stammered, fearing further violence.

"What Liangshan?"

"Of course, it's one of the Four Great Bandits."

A nearby servant quickly helped him up and gave him a drink to clear his throat.

Then a heavy bag of money was thrown onto his fat belly, causing him to groan in pain and vomit, spilling the contents all over his clothes.

This messy state made the intruders frown and step back.

"Take us to find this person, and more..."

As the unsecured bag spilled out the shining South Sea gold coins, worth at least several hundred strings of cash, everyone's attention was drawn, and Hu Jingshui's pain seemed to disappear.

He hurriedly got up and stammered, "Yes... yes, I am willing to serve you..."

Driven by the lure of money and the pain in his body, he quickly recalled that as a small ship merchant, he had been invited to a banquet on Liangshan Marsh and had heard the poem by chance. He had even given a small piece of white coral as a gift to curry favor with the Liangshan leaders.

"Lead the way."

"But..."

Hu Jingshui hesitated, wiping his forehead, unsure if it was sweat or wine. He regretted his quick agreement, as he had just escaped from that deadly place.

"There has been a disturbance there, and the mountain is in chaos..."

"Just take us there... we'll see what happens when we arrive."

These men were determined and resolute in their search.

"As long as what you say is true, we will ensure your safety."

...

I was gently poking the back of this little thing with a reed, trying to get her to turn around.

"Immortal? Demon..."

"What's your mother's surname?"

"Where do you live?"

"Have you eaten?"

"Can you transform?"

No matter how I asked, if I was a bit too urgent or loud, she would crouch down, hugging her head and trembling. Well, I was defeated by her head-hugging technique.

After I forcibly pried open her tightly clasped fingers, I found that she seemed to have a real headache. Her face would wrinkle up whenever I asked her to recall the past.

What was this, playing the amnesia card? I was both frustrated and helpless, staring at her.

"Um..."

After a moment, she finally spoke weakly.

"You... are..."

"I am your master."

"Then... I..."

Her soft, timid voice made me want to bully her.

"Actually, you are a meat vessel I bought..."

I couldn't help but tease her maliciously.

"What is a meat vessel?"

She shook her head, asking in a weak, timid voice.

"It means that when you grow up, you will be used for all kinds of intimate activities."

"Will it kill me?"

"Usually not..."

I answered seriously.

"As long as you obey me..."

"Oh..."

She responded in a dazed manner.

This morning, I woke up with a heavy breath and found a wet spot on my body, thinking it might be a leak, but the ground around me was dry.

The ground, which had been heated and sprinkled with charcoal ash, and the grass mat, wouldn't easily absorb moisture or collect dew. Then I noticed the heavy weight on my numb left leg and saw the small body hugging my thigh.

In the bright daylight, I remembered that I had fished a little girl out of the river, who had eaten all my egg custard and the roasted waterfowl.

It seemed that after drying her clothes and making her sleep at my feet, she had cried and sobbed, then grabbed my clothes and used my thigh as a pillow to wipe her tears. What a mess.

I diluted the leftover food with water, added a piece of bread, heated it up, and fed it to her before setting off again.

I hadn't decided what to do with her, so I let her follow. She seemed to have no experience with long walks, and after a short while, her walking posture became limping, and the pain in her feet seemed unbearable, making her whimper as she walked.

Then, as I walked, I noticed that she was no longer behind me. I turned back and saw a small, curled-up figure on the ground.

I hesitated, picked her up, and patted her face, but only got some incoherent mumbling. I felt her head and found it was warm.

Well, I reluctantly put down the red tiger and carried her up. When I reached the main road, I carried her in my arms. Her body was light, adding little weight.

The night was cold, and I, being an adult, didn't feel it much, but she couldn't handle it. Although I hadn't decided what to do with her, I didn't want her to get worse and die, which would be a waste.

I took out a small flask and gave her a sip of spirits. This was actually for me to stay alert and warm. The pungent taste made her cough and wake up from her daze. I wrapped her in more felt, tying it tightly around her neck.

She looked like a small bundle of goods on the back of a mule, wriggling and making sounds.

I still had a vague memory of the map I had lost on the mountain. As long as I followed the main road, I would be fine.

Because of the extra burden, I had to deal with many more daily needs, such as eating, drinking, and using the toilet. I had to alternate between walking and riding to preserve the animal's strength, which made the journey take longer.

A day later, we returned to the vicinity of the small Guang County, where her fever had subsided, and she seemed more energetic. This made me less inclined to abandon her.

However, bringing an extra person was troublesome. She was thirsty and needed water, then needed to urinate after drinking, and her feet were so painful she couldn't stand straight. To avoid wetting my blanket, I had to help her in a rather embarrassing position to urinate.

Her body was light, and lifting her from behind felt like holding a cloud. Her lightness didn't evoke any improper thoughts. Listening to the sound of her urinating, I even felt like a father getting up in the middle of the night to help his child.

The dilapidated county town had been reoccupied by some troops, but the road checks were not as strict as I had imagined. There were only a few lazy soldiers with spears, and the only proof of their identity was a striped cloth patch on their sheepskin coats.

I avoided the main gate and found a partially abandoned post station. I showed my credentials, paid a few coins, and had the red tiger fed well. I also bought a large bundle of horse feed and oats, rested for a while, and then set off again.

The credentials I had were taken from a family in the small Guang County who claimed to have been merchants. These credentials were multi-page folded papers, similar to travel permits, but with more detailed information, such as place of origin, household registration, age, and occupation.

In this resource-scarce and chaotic era, the credentials issued by small places were crudely made. They were easy to forge, such as the official seals, which were often carved from radishes. I could easily alter them by tearing out the inner pages and replacing them with my own, which would pass muster at the post station.

Using these credentials, I not only replenished food and water but also obtained a pair of small, patched boots with leather and wooden soles, and wrapped her feet in felt to prevent further injury or frostbite.

On the dusty road, I was munching on a salty radish when I suddenly said loudly,

"I've decided..."

"..."

She, still lying on the mule, seemed startled and looked up at me with her dark eyes.

"From today, you will be called Xiaomi..."

"Xiaobi?"

She mumbled softly.

"No, it's the 'mi' in 'honey'..."

"Bi..."

"It means someone who does things for me when needed..."

"Xiaomi..."

"Bi..."

Then I suddenly frowned, sensing some movement in the distance.

The ancient military treatises describe the mystical art of "observing the aura," which is actually a method of battlefield observation. In the absence of advanced observation technology and equipment, it relies more on personal experience and insight to detect subtle changes and abnormalities in the environment, thereby inferring the enemy's movements or hidden traps.

"Quick, get out of the way!"

I changed my expression and urged the red tiger to run into the nearby woods, even though it was reluctant to continue due to the dense branches.

After giving it a few hard whips, it reluctantly squeezed in, and I used a salt bribe to tie its mouth shut.

A flood of refugees, trampling each other on the road, came rushing like a tidal wave. They fell like dominoes, being trampled and mangled by the masses.

The air carried a faint smell of blood.

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(Note: The last two lines are placeholders for advertisements and should be removed in the final translation.)