“Who did this?”
Jiang Yi’s voice wasn’t loud, his tone wasn’t high.
But He Laohun’s body trembled as if scalded by fire. He jerked his head to the side, using his shoulder to block that swollen, red half of his face.
He tried to force out his usual devil-may-care grin, stretching the corners of his mouth so wide they nearly reached his ears, but his voice was terribly hoarse:
“N-No one! Just messing around… Brother Yi, really, just messing around, accidentally bumped it! It’s nothing, don’t ask… don’t bring trouble on yourself!”
“Brother He.” Jiang Yi’s tone remained calm, but deep in his eyes, that trace of fire-natured light cultivated by the *Lesser Origin Fire Control Art* leaped uncontrollably, blazing and piercing.
“I’ll ask one more time. Who. Hit. You?”
Attendant Yang was right. The demonic Dao lineage was no place of tender affection and harmonious brotherhood.
Those at the very bottom, the beasts of burden, could still huddle together rather than harm each other because there was no fundamental conflict of interest.
But take a few steps upward, and trouble easily landed at your door.
Look!
He had only been an Inspector for a few days, and trouble had already sniffed him out?
Jiang Yi lowered his eyelids, concealing that surging, leaping trace of fire-natured light, and looked at He Laohun, who only wanted to let the matter rest.
Gone was the spirited air of yesterday’s boasting; He Laohun’s back was hunched like a shrimp, his hands waving repeatedly:
“It really doesn’t matter! Brother Yi, you don’t know… before I entered the Qianji Sect, my whole family were tenant farmers for a rural Qi Refinement clan.
There was a young master in the clan who loved watching people slap themselves for amusement… My father, for a single measure of rice, knelt by the field ridges and slapped his own face—*smack*, *smack*—over a dozen times… He thought I didn’t see. Later, he told me happily that the master had shown kindness, and our family could eat a full meal that night.”
He tightly gripped the two cold, hard buns of cornbread in his hands, head lowered, not daring to look at Jiang Yi, his voice rambling:
“Later, my father worked himself half to death contracting several more mu of spirit fields from the clan master. He toiled like an old ox, pinching every fu coin until it nearly split in two, and finally managed to send me to the Dao Academy in the city.
There were seventy or eighty pupils in the academy. I was the oldest, understood nothing, and the teachers looked down on me.
I wanted to learn more characters, read more Dao texts, so I could only fawn on those city young masters every day, copying scriptures for them in exchange for paper and ink… There was a dog hole in the back courtyard. I remember once, two young masters from great clans made a bet. One said no one could definitely crawl through it…”
Humiliation filled He Laohun’s tone, yet his face still forced a smile:
“I was good-for-nothing… For fifty fu coins, I bent my waist, dropped to the ground, and struggled to crawl through.
No sooner had I gotten through than I heard someone say I definitely couldn’t crawl back… I-I turned around and crawled back from the other side… One round trip, earned a hundred fu coins.”
The kitchen was silent as He Laohun spoke to himself:
“Those two young masters doubled over laughing. I was right there, covered in dust, crawling on the ground picking up my fu coins one by one… In that moment, I suddenly understood what my father felt in his heart when he knelt on the field ridge slapping his own face all those years ago… I secretly swore that I would rise above others!
In my first two years at the Qianji Sect, I was just like you, Brother Yi—willing to endure hardship, willing to sell my strength! By the third year, I finally managed to leave the mountain and return home once… My parents were both gone. Those few mu of spirit fields were still there, being farmed by my second uncle.
That young master who loved watching people slap themselves had become the local clan master. He praised my father for being a good hand at farming, and asked me when my service term would end. He said the clan had plenty of fields now, and could spare a few mu for me to farm…”
“I gritted my teeth and returned to the mountain, swearing I’d rather die than be a tenant farmer living at the mercy of others! I desperately saved money, took overwork jobs for others, just to scrape together enough fu coins to attend one lecture at the Inner Peak!
I worked until my eyes went black, just hoping I could learn some real ability, turn my life around, and straighten my spine to live like a human being… But it’s too hard!
Brother Yi, why is it so damn hard for people like us to straighten our spines?!”
He Laohun’s voice grew lower and lower, as if his strength were being drained bit by bit. The cornbread buns gripped in his hands fell to the ground.
Jiang Yi sighed lightly, but could not find any words of comfort.
Even without using the Heavenly Book, he could more or less guess the cause and effect.
It was nothing more than those two jackals, Zhang Chao and Dong Ba, looking for a way to make things unpleasant for him.
But they also feared offending Yang Xun, Attendant of the Quenching Room, so they took out their temper on He Laohun, this easy target.
“I’ve dragged you into this, Brother He.”
He Laohun’s throat had seemed blocked all along, but hearing Jiang Yi’s words, his shoulders shook violently, and choked sobs escaped intermittently from his buried head.
Before long, perhaps from decades of pent-up bitterness finally surging upward.
He Laohun suddenly grabbed Jiang Yi’s arm and wailed:
“Brother Yi! I’m good-for-nothing! Zhang Chao and Dong Ba forced me to make trouble for you… When I refused, they made me crawl between their legs!”
“Brother Yi, I’ve lived so many years, so why am I still so useless! I want to cultivate the Dao too, I want to never crawl through dog holes again, to straighten my spine… B-But why is it so hard?!”
He Laohun’s chest heaved like a broken bellows, making wheezing sounds.
After holding it in for so long, he finally wept, yet he still did not dare cry too loudly. He only grabbed Jiang Yi and repeated:
“Brother Yi, I’m suffocating!”
Jiang Yi stood quietly in place. That trace of fire-natured light seemed to be suppressed, silently dissipating.
He slowly crouched down, picked up the dust-covered cornbread buns, blew on them, and stuffed them back into He Laohun’s hand.
“A few hundred years ago, the ancestors of the most powerful great sects and Dao clans on Beiman Ridge also endured circumstances just like ours.
Brother He, watch closely. On this Chiyan Peak, no one will trouble us from now on!”
Early the next morning, before the bell of Guanlan Peak rang, numerous mortal servants had already gathered outside the gates of the Labor Hall.
Compared to the usual numb listlessness when heading to work, today there was a bit more joy on their faces. Everyone was rubbing their hands, as if anticipating something.
The reason was simple.
Today was payday!
After toiling arduously for a month, they could finally see fu coins drop into their bags. How could one not feel overjoyed?!
When the bell’s sound echoed through the peaks and the Labor Hall’s gates swung open, a young Dao attendant with rosy lips and white teeth shouted:
“Line up, don’t push. Everyone will get their share!”
Then, three young Dao attendants had the Inspectors settle payments according to the registers.
“Zheng Dajiang, one hundred shifts, one thousand two hundred fu coins… He Laohun, one hundred twenty shifts…”
Jiang Yi counted nimbly, then distributed the money. He had just become an Inspector, yet he showed no unfamiliarity with flipping through account books and calculating wages, causing the young Dao attendant beside him to nod repeatedly.
In contrast, over at Zhang Chao and Dong Ba’s side, there were inevitably quarrels and arguments, grating on one’s ears.
It took a full hour before the fu coins were finally distributed.
Jiang Yi pinched a stack of fu coins. Their material was talisman paper, divided into three types according to denomination.
One coin was yellow, ten was purple, a hundred was red.
The reason talisman paper was used as currency was supposedly because the Nanzhan Continent was not abundant in spiritual essence.
Talisman paper was easy to carry, and because it was recognized by the orthodox tradition, it possessed a trace of spirituality, usable for drawing talismans, writing inscriptions, refining artifacts, and kindling fires—not entirely without value.
With various factors combined, it was widely favored by Dao lineages, circulating broadly and seen everywhere.
However, Jiang Yi had also heard that in the Dongsheng Continent, where the immortal Dao governed the world, some wealthy cultivators directly used spirit stones, their largesse evident.
Jiang Yi put away the fu coins, tucking them into his chest, and paid little attention to Zhang Chao and Dong Ba.
“See? That Jiang kid has no need to stick his neck out for He Laohun, pointlessly provoking us!”
Seeing Jiang Yi leave without causing trouble, Dong Ba said triumphantly.
“Still need to keep our guard up. It’s the dog that doesn’t bark that bites hardest!”
Zhang Chao’s gaze was gloomy as he instructed:
“Don’t split up these next few days, lest he finds an opportunity!”
A vicious expression crossed Dong Ba’s dark face, and he smiled, revealing yellow teeth:
“I actually hope he overestimates himself and gives me a target for my temper!
I was going to cut him in on some money, but he didn’t know what was good for him! That He Laohun is a cheap bone too, insistently clinging to that Jiang kid, licking his asscrack!”
Zhang Chao shook his head and said:
“Brother Dong, don’t underestimate him. I hear he’s already at the second level of Qi Refinement and still young. Better not make a mortal enemy.
If he gets lucky someday and climbs to the fifth level of Qi Refinement, we’ll be in for a world of hurt.”
Dong Ba sneered. In a few more years, his term would be up. Then he would leave the mountain and return home, living free and easy.
First, he would kill the entire family of the constable who had issued a warrant for him back then. Then he would find a good spot and continue being a bandit king.
Live to seventy or eighty and kick the bucket—not a waste of a trip to this world!
“Bare feet don’t fear those who wear shoes. What the hell do I have to fear!”
Dong Ba spat out a gob of saliva, uttering a rural vulgarism.
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