Chapter 452: Night Road

Situ Lei was a legend.

Even counting the string of defeats in his later years at Snow Sea Pass—the defeats that allowed the savages to break through the pass—one still could not completely deny how extraordinary his life had been.

And every legend needed stepping-stones.

Every legend needed contrast.

Situ Lei had first made his name at Zhennan Pass.

An unfavored concubine-born son, he accumulated immense military merit and prestige there through repeated victories over the Chu people. Only then had he possessed the capital to return to Yingdu and contend with his two elder brothers in the struggles of the court.

Opposite Zhennan Pass lay Chu’s **Shanggu Commandery**.

This region had also served as the battlefield for repeated clashes between Chu and the Situ Clan. Because war came so often, Shanggu Commandery’s population and trades had never developed much. Many places were desolate to the point of bleakness.

It was not merely Jin troops invading to plunder them.

Whenever Chu armies marched out, they too frequently requisitioned the local people to serve the army.

Under that double exploitation from both enemy and one’s own side, it would have been stranger if Shanggu Commandery somehow became prosperous.

Originally, when Chu seized Zhennan Pass and an Azure Luan Army marched straight into Jin, the people of Shanggu Commandery had nearly wept with joy.

They thought they would finally be spared the endless suffering of war. As border folk, perhaps they too could finally transform overnight and enjoy the treatment of people living safely in the interior.

Then news of defeat came from the front.

The Yan people, who had initially been losing ground, suddenly crushed the savages.

Then they captured Yupan City.

Finally, Yan troops pointed their blades directly at Zhennan Pass.

With a great Yan–Chu war seeming ready to erupt at any moment, all the confidence and enthusiasm Shanggu’s people had held for their future lives wilted completely.

The most obvious example could be found inside an inn beside the post road.

The owner listlessly tapped at his abacus.

The waiter leaned against the wall, dozing.

It was not that the inn lacked customers.

The customers simply wore the same expression.

The court had ordered grain levies to support the army at the front.

To save effort and reduce costs, it adopted a system of exchanging grain for salt permits.

In other words, Chu merchants were encouraged to purchase grain from various regions, organize transport, and haul it to the frontier. Hand grain over to the government there, and the court would issue salt permits in return—effectively granting the merchant the right to sell a certain quota of salt.

Naturally, that attracted many merchants to organize grain convoys.

But after everyone worked themselves half to death hauling the grain over, the court abruptly changed the terms.

The amount of salt permits originally promised was slashed by nearly forty percent.

And even within the remaining sixty percent, other goods had to be mixed in as substitutes.

Wonderful.

Once transportation costs were deducted, the merchants had somehow turned a guaranteed profit into a guaranteed loss.

The underlying reason was simple.

In name, Chu monopolized salt and iron.

In practice, the great noble houses possessed rights to exploit salt and iron within their own fiefs. Some could even mint coin privately.

The Chu court had only just recovered from the internal struggle for succession. After all that infighting, the treasury was already empty.

Minister Mi of the Ministry of Revenue had devised this method to reduce the court’s burden in supporting the front.

The problem was that the salt permits allocated by the Ministry of Revenue were supposedly backed by state salt fields, while in reality most of those salt fields lay inside the fiefs of great nobles.

The nobles immediately objected.

They made noise.

They applied pressure.

And under that pressure, the Ministry of Revenue had no choice but to revise the policy.

The great nobles considered themselves already extraordinarily loyal and conscientious for being willing to “ruin their households in relief of the state” and accept half the burden. That, in their view, was already giving the court and the Regent immense face.

After much negotiation, the Ministry of Revenue at least preserved half of the original salt-permit quota. The system could continue, and the court’s dignity remained intact.

As for whether the merchants hauling the grain made money or lost money that was not something the great lords cared about.

They were losing money.

That much was certain.

But where could they complain?

Did the court need their permission to reverse an order overnight?

And they could not refuse to sell either.

What, were they supposed to haul all that grain back again?

That would only make the loss even worse.

So most of the people sitting inside this inn were grain merchants who had already delivered their loads.

Every last one of them looked crushed.

“Can you get used to this food?”

In a corner, a man asked the handsome young attendant seated beside him.

“It’s fine. I’m not that delicate. Didn’t I eat the coarse corn buns you brought me before?”

The “meal” was something between stir-fried food and steamed rice.

It was not even hot.

The kitchen had probably steamed one enormous pot early in the day and ladled out bowls afterward.

A thick layer of bean paste covered the top.

Salty enough to kill someone.

They had asked whether there was anything else to eat.

The waiter said no.

Then, with a smile, he added that the owner planned to close the inn in another ten days or so and flee the region. Even the cook had already been dismissed.

The waiter himself had stayed only because he came from the same hometown as the owner and would be traveling back with him.

So the inn now served only this kind of rice and tea.

There was not even wine.

Grain had become expensive, so breweries had raised their prices as well. The owner feared buying a new batch only to close before he could sell it.

Fortunately the Princess truly was not delicate.

From Zhou County onward, they had first hired people to travel with them, then attached themselves to other merchant convoys hauling grain.

They had not exactly slept under the wind and stars, but the journey had still been exhausting.

The Princess never complained even once.

And every night before sleep, she still remembered to fetch Count Zheng a basin of water and wash his feet.

The Princess ate with graceful composure.

Then she looked up at Count Zheng.

“Why aren’t you eating?”

“I can’t get used to it.”

“...”

The Princess.

At that moment, she was genuinely confused.

Which one of them was supposed to be the Princess?

After dinner, the sky outside had already darkened.

Count Zheng took the Princess upstairs.

Because the owner was preparing to close the inn and flee, the guest rooms no longer had bedding.

Travelers had to bring their own.

The room fee was therefore almost symbolic.

Once the bedding was spread, Zheng Fan took out his metal case, drew out a cigarette, and held it beneath his nose.

“If you want to smoke, then smoke,” the Princess said.

She already knew what tobacco was.

Count Zheng shook his head.

“It leaves a smell on the body.”

“You’re really cautious.”

“Isn’t it so both of us can get back safely?”

“Yes, yes.

“My Count.”

“Tomorrow morning, I’ll find someone to take the grain we brought off our hands.

“After that, we enter the mountains.”

Zhennan Pass was the throat connecting Jin territory and Chu territory.

But that did not mean there was absolutely no way across without taking the pass.

You could still cross.

The road was simply extremely difficult.

Utterly unsuitable for armies.

“Mm.”

The Princess obediently lay down and began resting.

Count Zheng lay down as well and closed his eyes.

Aside from the Demon Child, none of the other Demon Kings were beside him now.

That meant Zheng Fan had to personally think through and arrange many things.

The identity of a grain merchant had been prepared by the Fan Clan in advance.

But after traveling east, Count Zheng had stopped contacting Fan Clan people.

First, the farther east he went, the weaker the Fan Clan’s influence became.

Second—

Count Zheng trusted nobody right now.

The Princess, eyes still closed, suddenly spoke:

“I hear there are many wild beasts in the mountains.

“And bands of robbers too.”

“Not a big problem,” Count Zheng answered.

That much confidence he still possessed.

No matter what else one said, he was still a Sixth Grade Martial Artist.

“Mm.”

The Princess truly began resting.

Her breathing gradually evened out.

Count Zheng also threw the other thoughts from his mind and fell asleep.

...

Early the next morning, Zheng Fan woke.

He found another merchant traveling the same route, transferred his grain to the man, and settled the wages of the laborers who had followed them all the way from Zhou County.

Then he sent them home.

Afterward, Count Zheng took the Princess and turned north instead of east.

They entered the mountains.

They rested occasionally along the way.

Most of the day was spent moving.

Only when night fell did Count Zheng find a cave and make camp.

The Green Python slithered over.

It opened its mouth.

A large haunch of venison dropped out.

Over the past few days, Zheng Fan and the Princess had traveled along the road while the Green Python followed from a distance through the woods.

Now that they were in the mountains, it could finally reveal itself openly.

The problem was it genuinely disliked Zheng Fan.

So after dropping the venison, it immediately turned and slithered away again.

Count Zheng started a fire.

After roughly cleaning the meat, he began roasting it.

The Princess was checking the soles of her feet.

“Blisters?” Zheng Fan asked.

“Mm. A little.”

Zheng Fan took out a needle, heated it over the flame, and passed it to her.

“Pop them carefully yourself.”

The Princess accepted the needle.

She could not help complaining:

“We should’ve walked more slowly today.”

The Princess was a pampered imperial daughter.

This was her first time entering the mountains.

Mountain paths were difficult.

She needed time to adapt.

Yet Zheng Fan had dragged her along at a punishing pace all day.

“I didn’t want extra trouble.

“Didn’t we transfer the grain we were using as cover to that other merchant this morning?”

“Yes.

“So?”

“We collected some silver from the sale.

“Hard to say what people might think...”

“It wouldn’t go that far, would it?”

“In times like these, what truly honest men dare spend their lives as traveling merchants?

“Don’t tell me you still think the folk customs of your Great Chu are pure and simple.”

“As though people in Yan wouldn’t do the same.”

“Everyone’s the same.

“Everyone’s the same.

“Back when I first started building my fortune, I made quite a bit of money by robbing people too.”

“I never imagined Count Pingye had that sort of origin story.”

“Actually, I never really stopped.

“It only sounds embarrassing when you say I used to rob stockade masters and local rich men.

“Later, I still robbed people.

“I simply upgraded to robbing entire states and imperial clans.

“And somehow that turned me into a great warlord.”

“That... does seem to make sense.”

“The venison is ready.

“Wash your hands and eat.”

At that moment, the Green Python returned.

It opened its mouth.

A human head fell onto the ground.

The Princess’s gaze sharpened.

But she did not scream.

Count Zheng walked over while chewing venison.

He used one foot to roll the head over.

“Well, look at that.

“It’s the owner of that inn.

“Seems he knew I had silver on me and decided to make one final windfall before closing up and going home.”

The Princess continued eating venison.

“He followed us closely enough.

“We moved so fast today and he still caught up.”

“Mm.

“So I need to go have a look.

“Tell your snake to lead the way.”

“Xiaoqing.

“Lead us.”

“Xiaoqing?”

Count Zheng usually just called it “your snake.”

He genuinely had not known its name.

“What?” the Princess asked in confusion.

“Something wrong with the name?”

“Is there also a white snake?”

“Never seen one.”

“Then you can ask it sometime.”

The Green Python led the way.

Very soon, it brought them to a low depression where two mangled corpses lay.

“Keep the crossbow ready.

“I’ll go down and look.”

Count Zheng had acquired the crossbow along the road.

Chu might officially regulate salt and iron, but because the great nobles enjoyed so much autonomy within their fiefs, quite a few aristocratic houses openly sold weapons for profit.

This crossbow imitated military manufacture.

It was inferior to a proper army-issue weapon, but still more than adequate.

Earlier, one grain merchant traveling with them had wanted to buy some weapons for self-defense.

He asked around and purchased several at once so he could bargain down the price.

Count Zheng had simply taken one too.

Zheng Fan drew his saber and used it to brace himself while sliding down the slope.

To his surprise, weapons and a bow lay beside the two corpses.

One corpse was headless.

That should be the inn owner.

The other still had his head.

It was the waiter.

Count Zheng silently slung the bow over one shoulder.

Then he reached down and began searching the inn owner’s body.

This was pure habit.

Kill someone and fail to search the corpse afterward and somehow the whole thing felt as though it lacked ritual.

He rummaged around.

Then, his hand found a token.

Under the moonlight, he could barely make out a Fire Phoenix mark engraved upon it.

Count Zheng shook his head helplessly.

All he could say was his luck was terrible.

He had walked ninety-nine steps out of a hundred, only to run straight into a hidden Phoenix Nest post at the very end.

Throughout their eastward journey, they had seen Chu exerting every ounce of strength to pursue and blockade the two groups fleeing toward Mengshan and Qishan.

There had been almost no pursuit at all toward the east.

Count Zheng had thought he could finally return in peace.

And now, another complication appeared.

All he could do was pray that the inn owner had merely found Zheng Fan’s sudden grain transfer suspicious and decided to follow for a look and had not sent any message back to Phoenix Nest.

“Hey.

“Call that big snake of yours down here.

“See whether it can eat both corpses.

“Every grain of porridge and rice comes with hardship.

“We shouldn’t waste things.”

“It’s already full.

“It can’t eat anymore.

“If you force it to overeat, it’ll have to hibernate and won’t be able to travel.”

“Then come down.

“We’ll deal with the bodies together.”

The Princess came down.

Count Zheng dug a pit.

She dragged the mangled bodies over and threw them inside.

Once everything was handled, Count Zheng stood with hands on hips, panting.

Winter ground was frozen hard as stone.

Digging a pit like this was exhausting.

Especially when all you had was a saber.

The tool was completely wrong for the job.

“When we get home, I need to ask someone for corpse-dissolving water or something.

“Next time we need to destroy evidence, we won’t have to work this hard.”

“Corpse-dissolving water?”

“Mm.

“Viscount Wei uses it.”

“Who is Viscount Wei?”

“A Viscount in our Yan.

“He married several dozen wives.”

“You are absolutely not allowed to learn from him.”

“Heh.”

“You wouldn’t even be able to fit all the names into your final edict,” the Princess teased with a smile.

Wonderful.

Words Count Zheng had originally used to make his “tiger body shake” had now become the Princess’s favorite joke to throw back at him.

“Let’s move farther ahead.

“Find somewhere else to rest.”

They could not remain here.

They needed more distance.

The Princess offered no complaint.

She followed Count Zheng through the night.

“My Count.

“I’ve noticed you treasure your life enormously.

“Are you like this on the battlefield too?”

“All undefeated generals share one thing in common.

“Know what it is?”

“They’re brilliant strategists?”

“No.”

“Peerless martial skill?”

“Nope.”

“Then what?”

“They didn’t die in battle.”

“...”

The Princess.

“Once you die, there’s nothing left.”

“If you treasure your life that much, why did you still come to the imperial villa to see me?”

“Because for you—

I’m willing to throw my life away.”

“I know that’s a lie.

“But it still feels nice to hear.”

“As long as you’re happy.

“All right.

“I’ll carry you.”

Count Zheng bent down.

The Princess obediently climbed onto his back.

“Am I heavy?”

“Not exactly light.”

“You said you like women a little plumper.

“And a little more pure and innocent.

“You’re not allowed to dislike me.”

“When men say they like women a little plumper, they mean the flesh should grow in the correct places.

“When they say they like them more pure and innocent, they mean they should still look beautiful without makeup.”

“Crooked logic.”

“Still logic.”

Deep in the night forest—

Count Zheng continued walking with the Princess on his back.

The Green Python seemed to sense danger as well.

From time to time it darted through the brush around them, almost as though escorting and guarding the pair.

By the latter half of the night, Zheng Fan’s head was already covered in sweat.

But he still did not intend to stop.

Instinct told him to get as far as possible from the place where those two Phoenix Nest operatives had died.

“Help!

“Help!

“Help me...”

A cry came from ahead.

Count Zheng paused.

The Princess said:

“I heard someone.”

“I’m not deaf.”

They were inside a gorge.

Going around was not really possible unless they wanted to backtrack.

So Count Zheng decided to keep moving forward.

Eventually a burning campfire appeared ahead.

A woman hung bound from a tree beside it.

Her clothing was torn.

Her hair was disheveled.

She struggled weakly against the ropes.

When the woman spotted Zheng Fan and the Princess, she immediately began calling for help.

“Hero, save me!

“Please save this poor woman!

“My family was attacked by mountain bandits.

“They killed my husband and my parents-in-law.

“They tied me here.

“Hero, please save me!

“Save me!

“Save me...”

The woman looked frantic.

The instant she saw Zheng Fan, she acted as though she had seen her savior.

She struggled even harder.

Count Zheng looked at the campfire.

Then at the woman hanging from the tree.

Then listened to her desperate cries.

He sighed.

“Cliché.”

**Twang!**

A crossbow bolt shot over Count Zheng’s head.

**Pfft!**

The woman hanging from the tree was struck.

Her head drooped.

She died.

Count Zheng praised her sincerely:

“Not bad.”

The Princess on his back lowered the crossbow.

“I was trying to shoot through the rope and let her down.

“I missed.”

“Beautiful.”

Count Zheng shifted the Princess higher on his back.

His hands squeezed firmly where they were supporting her.

“No need to explain.

“You did well.”

With that Count Zheng prepared to continue on his way.

He had absolutely no intention of investigating what had happened to this woman or why she had appeared here.

The woman hung there.

Hands and feet bound.

Head drooping.

Her body swayed faintly beneath the tree.

Wind moved through the gorge.

Its echo sounded like the low moan of a hujia flute.

Yet just as Count Zheng walked beneath the tree carrying the Princess the woman who had clearly been killed by the Princess’s earlier bolt slowly raised her head.

Her face was blue-black.

She stared down at Count Zheng and the Princess.

Her mouth split open.

Her tongue stretched out with grotesque exaggeration.

And in an impossibly suppressed, hoarse voice she asked:

“Why...

“Why didn’t you save me?”

————

[End of Chapter 452]