IDWBE -Chapter 388 I Want to Try

Zhou Xun was startled and quickly comforted her. “Don’t be like this. Why are you crying? Since you’ve made up your mind, just look forward.”

When she had first met Hong An, Hong An had been like a cold stone—aloof toward everyone, neither warm nor distant, expressionless.

Over the years, however, Hong An’s personality had gradually brightened. She got along with everyone and made more and more friends.

But this was the first time Zhou Xun had ever seen her cry.

“I’m fine,” Hong An wiped her tears. “I’ve made a fool of myself in front of you.”

“Every family has its own hard scripture to recite,” Zhou Xun said with a smile. “You know about my family too. My mother’s decent enough, but that old man of mine is useless—no ability whatsoever, only good at bullying his wife and children. Beating his wife and kids? He’s an expert at that. Even now I don’t dare imagine what my future would have been like if the prince hadn’t gone to Sanhe, if I hadn’t entered school, learned martial arts, or become a constable.”

Hong An let out a small laugh. “So that’s your excuse for beating up your father?”

“Heh.”

Zhou Xun said smugly, “So what if I did?”

The more she spoke, the prouder she became.

After she beat her father, the commotion she caused was even bigger than when Cao Xiaohuan beat her husband.

Her father—who only knew how to eat, drink, and beat his wife and children—actually went to Sun Xing, that stinking Daoist priest, and filed a complaint at the yamen, accusing her of “filial disobedience.”

Filial disobedience was one of the “Ten Abominations,” second only to treason and rebellion. If the charge stuck, she wouldn’t just lose a layer of skin—she might lose her life.

The complaint reached Shan Yin. The old gentleman was reasonable; he accepted the petition but didn’t rush to judgment. Instead, he sought instructions from Prince He.

Unexpectedly, the prince said: “Since when has Sanhe implemented the Liang Code? How come I don’t know about it? If a son is not taught, it is the father’s fault.”

In the end, her father was sentenced to six months of labor reform.

And to spare her from so-called “social death,” the prince even publicly praised her as a heroine among women—no less valiant than any man.

“I don’t have your courage. So you’ve cut ties with your father?” Hong An asked with a smile.

“With him, there’s only living separation—no tearful farewell,” Zhou Xun curled her lips. “If we run into each other over tea someday, fine. Otherwise, I won’t bother.”

“I can only say—you did well,” Hong An said with a smile. “I’ve decided. I’ll buy a residence in Ankang City. I won’t be returning to Sanhe anymore.”

Zhou Xun rubbed her hands together as she spoke. “Once I find someone to take over here, I’ll apply to transfer back to Sanhe. I just can’t get used to this place. You wouldn’t believe it—I’ve lost weight in just these few days.”

Hong An said, “Seeing your mother selling food outside the Capital Garrison and counting money so happily, she might not want to go back.”

Zhou Xun replied, “Why should I let her decide? Poor people’s children must run their own households. Listen less to your parents’ advice—there’s a reason they’re poor. If you use their words as guidance, you might end up even poorer.”

Hong An burst out laughing. “You really have a sharp tongue.”

Zhou Xun lowered her voice. “That’s not my line—it’s what Prince He told us in class. Have you forgotten?”

“Oh dear, I deserve a slap for that,” Hong An spat a few times and said, “Just pretend you didn’t hear anything. Enough talking—I need to sleep. Tomorrow morning I’ll pay respects to the prince.”

“Wait,” Zhou Xun tugged at her sleeve. “I gave you that padded coat yesterday—why aren’t you wearing it today? I know you’re a martial arts expert and not afraid of the cold. But when you see the prince tomorrow, you can’t let him think you’re freezing.”

At Chief Steward Hong’s place, any behavior that made the prince uncomfortable was considered a fault. Getting scolded over something so trivial wasn’t worth it.

Hong An smiled. “The auntie who cleaned my room at noon—her coat was completely worn out, stuffing all gone, not blocking any wind. She looked pitiful. So I wrapped mine up and gave it to her.”

“You,” Zhou Xun shook her head helplessly. “You’ve wasted your time as an official—you haven’t learned a thing. What’s the use of being a softhearted fool? She saw you had money and charged you two extra strings of cash before leaving. If I’d known you gave her your coat, I wouldn’t have let her get away with that.”

Hong An just smiled and said nothing more.

As the New Year approached, pork—usually as cheap as dirt—soared in price. Money that once bought a whole jin of meat couldn’t even buy a couple of liang now. Public resentment boiled.

Ma Jie, Prefect of Ankang, was under heavy pressure. This problem had to be solved.

After all, Prince He cared about the people’s livelihood—and the most direct reflection of that was commodity prices.

The first people he thought of were the suppliers from Sanhe.

He summoned Zhu Ruorong and Butcher Jiang to the yamen.

The moment the two entered, they cried injustice.

Zhu Ruorong said pitifully, “Lord Ma, you overestimate us. Ankang City has five or six hundred thousand people. Just the amount of meat they eat daily could pile into a mountain. Look at us—this little silver in our pockets. If you say we’re monopolizing the market, you’re flattering us.”

Butcher Jiang echoed, “Exactly! Yes, we’ve made some money—that’s true. But to say the soaring meat prices are because of us? That’s unfair.”

Ma Jie snorted. “Aside from you two, who else in Ankang can mobilize ten thousand pigs at once?”

“Oh, my lord,” Zhu Ruorong sighed, “you don’t know the whole story. Even though our Prince He is wise, the world isn’t as peaceful as before. It’s chaos everywhere. You could be walking along the main road and suddenly run into bandits. Only inside the city, guarded by troops, is it somewhat better. Now with the snow, roads are worse. Only the bold—or those like us who know some martial arts—dare to make extra trips to the countryside. But think about it—how can just a handful of us supply meat for so many people?”

Ma Jie frowned. “Then what do you suggest?”

Butcher Jiang grinned. “My lord, that’s simple. Suppress the bandits. What else can be done?”

“Bandits must be suppressed,” Ma Jie shook his head, “but distant water cannot quench present thirst. The New Year is near—can we let the people celebrate without even a plate of meat?”

“Well…”

Butcher Jiang scratched his head. “That’s true. During the New Year, you can’t just warm two bowls of wine and have a plate of fennel beans. No meat on the table would be disgraceful.”

He then looked helplessly at Zhu Ruorong.

Zhu Ruorong chuckled. “My lord, city folk lack meat for the New Year, but country folk lack money. Meat prices in the city are already sky-high, yet still insufficient. The only reason is that villagers don’t know how valuable their pigs have become. My lord, if you send fast horses to spread word to nearby towns and villages, even if they have to risk their lives, they’ll drive their pigs into the city.”

Ma Jie hesitated. “It’s near the New Year. Bandits need money too—they’ll be fiercer than ever. Can the villagers really deliver pigs safely?”

He had considered arranging patrols.

But the yamen had only a hundred or so constables—how much territory could they cover?

Requesting troops was out of the question. Too few would be useless; too many would cost a fortune.

After the battle in the north, Prince He’s coffers were nearly empty. It was said He Jixiang was still worrying about military pay.

The Ministry of Revenue, along with the Ministry of Rites and the Court of Judicial Review, had been especially diligent in confiscating property lately.

To ask He Jixiang for more silver now would be asking for his life. Impossible.

“My lord, you worry too much,” Zhu Ruorong said with a smile. “Villagers are honest only because the money isn’t enough. Once the silver rises, anyone who dares rob them will be chopped down. Besides, the countryside has no shortage of brave men. You could appoint one or two capable leaders to organize local militias. With numbers on their side, even bandits would hesitate.”

“Very good.”

Ma Jie nodded in satisfaction and glanced outside the hall. “It’s snowing again.”

Ankang City lay wrapped in ice and snow, silver and white.

Meanwhile, in Chuanzhou, though the sky was clear, the air still carried a biting chill.

“Amitabha.”

The monk looked up at the three large characters on the city wall—“Chunshan City”—and let out a long breath.

He had finally found it.

Though it looked no different from any other city, few knew its precise location. It hadn’t been easy to get here.

At the gate, passersby wore thick padded coats, many turning curiously to stare at the bald monk in thin robes standing in the road.

“Monk, where are you from?”

A burly guard with a saber slung across his shoulder glared at him. “State your name. Chunshan City isn’t a place you can just wander into.”

“Amitabha.”

The monk pressed his palms together. “I have come to find someone.”

“Who?” the guard demanded roughly.

“I seek Zhaoyao of Chunshan City. Please inform him.”

The guard sized him up and snorted. “You think you’re worthy of seeking our city lord?”

Before he finished speaking, he drew his blade and slashed at the monk.

The monk clasped the blade between his palms, confusion on his face. “I bear you no grudge, sir. Why strike me?”

“You—”

No matter how hard the guard pushed, the blade wouldn’t budge.

He was shocked. The monk was young—how could his martial arts be so formidable?

There was nothing strange about his stance or movements. How had he so effortlessly caught the blade?

Unwilling to accept defeat, the guard released the saber and struck out with both palms, wind roaring like thunder.

“Amitabha.”

With one hand gripping the saber’s hilt, the monk seized the guard’s wrist with the other. The guard tried to dodge but was too late. His wrist was firmly caught; his body went numb. His eyes bulged in disbelief.

“Sir, a blade is a dangerous thing. Hold onto it carefully.”

The monk calmly returned the saber to the guard’s hand, stepped back, and bowed again.

“Who are you?”

The guard steadied his breathing and glared at the monk, who looked as serene as if nothing had happened.

Onlookers were stunned.

This monk’s martial arts were terrifyingly high.

“Sir, I am only a monk,” he replied calmly. “I’ve come to see your city lord. Please show the way.”

“And if I refuse?”

The guard tensed, ready to fight.

“Then I shall take my leave.”

The monk slung his cloth bundle over his back and walked through the gate, continuing down the broad street.

The guards on both sides had been dumbstruck; only when the burly guard roared, “Stop him!” did they snap out of it, surrounding the monk with blades and spears.

The guard felt uneasy under the monk’s gaze and forced himself to say, “Notify the elders—there’s trouble.”

“Let him in.”

A captivating voice drifted down. A figure floated from the city wall. The guards immediately lowered their heads.

“Amitabha. So it is you, miss.”

The monk looked at Xie Jiuyun in white standing before him, unsurprised.

“You still came. Do you care that much about that wretch?”

Xie Jiuyun stared coldly at him.

“Amitabha.”

The monk half-closed his eyes. “Seeing you, miss, brings joy to my heart.”

The guards were stunned.

Was this monk tired of living?

“You know where you are?”

Xie Jiuyun said flatly.

“Yes.”

The monk nodded honestly.

“And you still dare come?”

She looked at him as if at a dead man. “Think carefully. Once you pass this gate, there’s no turning back. Chunshan City has stood for over two hundred years. Few outsiders leave alive.”

The monk raised his head and met her gaze.

“To suffer without interval, body without interval, time without interval, action without interval. If I do not enter hell, who will?”

“So that’s why you’re so bold—you’ve broken through. But you’re still only sixth rank. Do you think you’re qualified to see my master?”

The monk nodded. “I want to try.”

The bystanders were incredulous.

Especially the burly guard.

He was also sixth rank.

Losing to someone of equal rank he could accept—but losing so miserably?

“If you wish to die alongside that wretch, I’ll grant your wish,” Xie Jiuyun said through gritted teeth. “Follow me.”

“Thank you, miss.”

Under everyone’s gaze, the monk followed her through the gate. The streets bustled, appearing like any ordinary city.

He had no time to look around, keeping pace as Xie Jiuyun’s steps quickened.

They stopped at the foot of a mountain. Before them stretched tier upon tier of steps, winding upward beyond sight.

“If you wish to see my master, climb it yourself,” she said.

“Thank you.”

“Hey.”

She called out as he stepped onto the first stair. “Have you thought this through? You will die.”

“I know.”

He did not turn back.

“You think it’s that easy?”

Her voice was filled with hatred. “Do you know what Chunshan City is? You must cross nine mountain peaks. Each has a yamen guarded by warriors of at least seventh rank! There is no luck involved. You cannot save that wretch!”

“I appreciate your kindness, miss.”

Without hesitation, the monk stepped onto the second stair.

Watching his figure grow distant, Xie Jiuyun suddenly shouted, “What is so good about that wretch?! You’d throw away your life for her!”

“Amitabha.”

The Buddhist chant echoed through the mountain valley, lingering without end.