Chapter 64: Offering to the Dead

“Has he been settled in?”

“Yes, Master. He’s in the small food-storage tent beside ours.”

Siniang was an extremely considerate woman.

For this journey, she had specially prepared plenty of good food and drink for Zheng Fan to take along.

Whenever circumstances allowed, she pursued refinement in life.

This was a woman who, even before being led to the execution ground, would probably still have the interest to paint her nails.

Zheng Fan nodded.

Siniang knelt beside him.

Neither spoke.

They had an unspoken understanding.

With only one tent between them, anything the slovenly man wanted to hear, he would certainly hear.

It was awkward.

The other man’s surname was Shatuo.

And Zheng Fan’s current rank of Lieutenant Commander had been earned precisely because he had cut off the head of the Shatuo tribe’s leader.

Truthfully, the moment the man revealed his surname, Zheng Fan had already felt somewhat hopeless.

For a moment, he had thought they had reached the point where they would simply have to fight to the death.

Even though Zheng Fan had ultimately claimed his name was “Fan Li,” everyone throughout the camp called him Lieutenant Commander Zheng...

Could he really hide it?

Zheng Fan even suspected the man already knew his identity.

That he already knew Zheng Fan’s hands were stained with the blood of the Shatuo tribe.

And there was another question.

Had this fellow truly entered the birthday tribute convoy merely to freeload food and drink?

The destination of this convoy was the residence of the Marquis of Zhenbei.

Zheng Fan stared at the flickering candle flame before him.

At that moment, although he was supposedly escorting birthday tribute, he suddenly had the illusion that what he was actually escorting was a nuclear warhead.

“Let’s sleep.”

In the end, those were the only words Zheng Fan spoke.

Sleep.

Wake up tomorrow, and everything would be normal again.

...

Naturally, that was wishful thinking.

Because when Zheng Fan woke, the slovenly man was already sitting beside his bed.

Siniang was rolling out noodles.

Water boiled in the pot.

Zheng Fan sat up.

Seeing him awake, Siniang prepared to rise and help him wash.

Zheng Fan shook his head, signaling for her to continue preparing breakfast.

He took a basin, filled it with water, walked outside the tent, and squatted at the entrance.

Brushing his teeth with green salt had been difficult to get used to when he first awakened in this world.

Gradually, though, even his mouth seemed to have accepted the taste.

“Gurgle, gurgle, gurgle...”

“Ptooey!”

He dipped a towel into the chilly water, soaked it, then scrubbed his face hard.

Two patrols passed nearby.

Both deliberately saluted Zheng Fan.

Zheng Fan nodded back.

Inside, however, he was calculating that this number of men probably would not be enough to serve as sacrificial shields.

So he said nothing.

Once he finished washing, Zheng Fan returned to his tent.

The noodles were ready.

Minced-meat noodles.

The noodles had plenty of bite.

The topping was excellent.

In the time it took Zheng Fan to finish one bowl, the slovenly man finished five.

It seemed living conditions among the barbarians truly were terrible.

Even an expert like this could not eat his fill.

Look at how badly the poor child had been starved.

He was practically a starving ghost reincarnated.

Zheng Fan could only mock him internally.

At present, being an “inner” powerhouse was about all he could manage.

After breakfast, the convoy resumed its journey.

The slovenly man cooperatively followed Zheng Fan’s suggestion and rode in one of the wagons carrying Zheng Fan’s tents and other supplies.

Zheng Fan even gave him one of his own hooded outfits.

The man wore it.

With his hair and face covered, he no longer looked quite so slovenly.

And because the clothes Siniang made for Zheng Fan were obviously expensive in both cut and workmanship, there was little risk that the soldiers who had searched for the man under Zheng Fan’s orders last night would become suspicious.

Once they were back on the road, Zheng Fan rode at the front of the convoy.

Siniang rode beside him.

At that moment, Zheng Fan genuinely felt an urge to spur his horse and flee.

Even if he abandoned everything, at least he could preserve his life.

Yet the urge was not particularly strong.

Even though Zheng Fan knew that if he chose to run, Siniang would follow him without a word.

But since he had come to this world, seen unfamiliar scenery, encountered a genuinely terrifying powerhouse, and was now about to see the greatest colossus in the north of this world the residence of the Marquis of Zhenbei running away with his tail between his legs now truly felt somewhat regrettable.

Perhaps, deep in his bones, he had never been a peaceful man.

He had not reached the lofty realm of “hear the Way in the morning and die content in the evening.”

But he did possess the petty-bourgeois sentiment of:

“The world is so big. I want to see it.”

Lunch consisted of dry rations.

The convoy did not stop to eat.

In this era, most households were still accustomed to eating two meals a day.

Naturally, wealthy families might eat three, four, or even more.

So the convoy did not stop to make camp until evening.

Everyone began setting up cooking pots.

Zheng Fan returned to his tent.

The slovenly man, wearing the hooded outfit, was already waiting there.

All he lacked was a food bowl clenched between his teeth.

Dinner was a big mixed stew.

During the day’s march, scouts had hunted some wild game.

Naturally, Zheng Fan received the finest cut of meat.

Add some hotpot seasoning, glass noodles, and pickled vegetables.

The ingredients were not particularly abundant, but considering their circumstances, it was already quite good.

The three of them sat around the pot without speaking, heads lowered as they ate.

Zheng Fan finished first.

He left the tent and went directly to the carriage holding the snow wolf.

After hesitating, he opened the carriage door and ducked inside.

Xu Wenzu was gnawing on venison.

When he saw Zheng Fan enter, he merely smiled.

Because his build was far too distinctive, Xu Wenzu had spent most of the past two days inside the carriage.

It certainly could not have been pleasant.

The red snow wolf still lay there weakly, looking half-dead.

But it would probably survive until the gifts were handed over tomorrow.

“We should arrive sometime tomorrow afternoon.

“Please endure a little longer, sir.”

If traveling on a fast horse, the journey from Tiger Head City to the residence of the Marquis of Zhenbei required only a day.

But because they were escorting birthday tribute, the convoy naturally could not travel quickly.

Furthermore, the residence of the Marquis of Zhenbei was not inside Tuman City.

It was not inside any city at all.

It stood in the wilderness.

It stood... in the desert.

A century ago, during the years when the State of Yan and the desert barbarians fought and slaughtered each other, Tuman City had been Yan’s front line against the barbarians.

But when the first Marquis of Zhenbei was enfeoffed and ordered to guard the north, he chose to establish his residence on an oasis far from Tuman City.

At the foot of Yin Mountain, beside the Heng River, he established his headquarters and yamen!

For the century that followed, the lineage of the Marquis of Zhenbei effectively transformed itself into a knife perpetually buried in the waist of the desert barbarians.

“Mm.”

Xu Wenzu responded.

He set down the venison and wiped his mouth.

“Tomorrow evening, will this official be able to see the Young Lady?”

The question was directed at Zheng Fan.

Zheng Fan shook his head.

“Please forgive this subordinate’s presumption.

“After we reach the Marquis’s residence tomorrow, this subordinate will request an audience with the Young Lady.

“But if the Young Lady is particularly busy tomorrow, perhaps...”

“Mm. No matter.

“It’s the Marchioness’s birthday.

“The Young Lady will certainly have many things to attend to.

“This official is in no hurry.”

Xu Wenzu was quite understanding.

Zheng Fan nodded.

“Please endure one more day, sir.

“Once we enter the Marquis’s residence tomorrow, you won’t need to suffer in here any longer.”

“Heh heh.

“This official is quite comfortable here.

“During the day I talk with this beast.

“I’m not lonely.

“Ah.

“Once we reach the Marquis’s residence, this official must have another proper drink with your father, Zheng Chenggong!”

“My father will certainly be delighted.”

“Of course he will.

“Hahahaha...”

After exchanging a few more meaningless pleasantries, Zheng Fan climbed out of the carriage.

He looked up at the bright moon while gently stroking the wineskin at his waist.

Inside was grape wine.

Siniang had poisoned it.

The poison had been prepared by Xue San back when he was still at home.

Ordinarily, he used it on his daggers.

Yet the wine still had not been delivered.

Last night, Xu Wenzu had eaten roast chicken.

Hot roast chicken.

Tonight, he had eaten roasted venison wild game brought back by the scouts that very day.

This meant that within the convoy, someone besides Zheng Fan was taking care of Xu Wenzu.

And anyone capable of allocating venison would not possess a low status.

Was it one of Wang Duan’s five Centurions?

Or... someone else?

Zheng Fan tapped his forehead.

They would reach the Marquis’s residence tomorrow afternoon.

Once there, his lies and fabricated identity would become extremely difficult to maintain.

“If you want to kill someone, just kill him.”

The slovenly man’s voice sounded behind Zheng Fan.

Zheng Fan immediately shuddered.

Black radiance erupted from his body.

But the slovenly man placed one hand on Zheng Fan’s shoulder.

The next instant, the radiance was forcibly suppressed.

It was deeply frustrating.

He had only just entered the grades.

Under normal story logic, a steady stream of ungraded or half-step Ninth Grade small fry should now be coming over to flirt with Siniang or mock Zheng Fan.

Then Zheng Fan would slap their faces while bystanders gasped in astonishment.

The dream was wonderfully full.

Reality was brutally thin.

Instead, this slovenly man kneaded Zheng Fan back and forth like a glutinous rice ball.

Still, when Zheng Fan remembered that the Demon Child and Siniang were equally helpless before this man, he felt somewhat better.

Perhaps because the gulf between their strength was simply too enormous, or perhaps because several meals had created a strange rapport between them, Zheng Fan shook his head.

“It’s inconvenient.”

Not that he did not want to kill Xu Wenzu.

But acting rashly without absolute confidence could easily cause chaos.

“Heh.”

The slovenly man chuckled and offered no opinion.

Zheng Fan noticed he had something slung over his shoulder.

Curious, he asked, “Are you preparing to leave?”

The slovenly man nodded.

“Yes.”

“Shall I see you off?”

“All right.”

“...” Zheng Fan.

I was only being polite.

Zheng Fan and the slovenly man walked out of the camp together.

Since Zheng Fan was present, neither the patrols nor the soldiers at the camp entrance tried to stop them.

After leaving camp, they walked to a slope.

The slovenly man stopped.

Zheng Fan secretly breathed a sigh of relief.

He had genuinely been worried the fellow might abduct him.

The slovenly man sat on the ground and opened his bundle.

Inside were cups, food, and several candles.

Zheng Fan sat down as well.

The slovenly man lit three candles.

“Barbarian rites make three offerings.

“First, to the Barbarian God.

“Second, to the totem.

“Third, to the yellow sands.”

As he spoke, he scooped up a handful of yellow sand and scattered it beside the candles.

Who was he making offerings to?

He arranged some food before them.

Then the slovenly man faced the candles.

He spread his hands upward at either side, then prostrated himself, pressing his forehead against the yellow sand he had just scattered.

Seeing this, Zheng Fan exhaled.

Then he too knelt down and kowtowed toward the three candles.

The slovenly man had already risen.

When he saw Zheng Fan kowtowing as well, his expression became somewhat strange.

He asked, “What are you kowtowing for?”

Zheng Fan did not think there was anything unusual about it.

He answered, “It’s a custom where I come from.

“Whenever we see a prayer cushion or an altar table, it doesn’t matter what god or Buddha is being worshipped, or whether we recognize them.

“We kowtow anyway.

“Just as a gesture.

“It only takes moving your head a few times.

“Nothing to lose.”

In later generations, it was perfectly ordinary for tourists visiting a city to pray in a church in the morning, burn incense in a Buddhist temple in the afternoon, and draw fortune sticks at a Daoist temple in the evening.

The slovenly man smiled.

He nodded.

“Nothing to lose indeed.”

Then he reached out, picked up the food he had just arranged as offerings, and started eating it.

“Hey.

“Are you really that hungry?”

They had only finished dinner a short while ago.

The slovenly man nodded.

“No matter how hungry you are, you should wait before eating the offerings.

“Let the person you’re honoring come enjoy them first.

“Then we can eat.”

The slovenly man did not stop.

He continued eating with relish.

Only after swallowing a strip of dried meat did he wipe his mouth with the sleeve of his hooded garment.

“He won’t mind.”

“If he doesn’t mind, then who exactly are you making offerings to?”

“Myself.”

(End of Chapter)