Chapter 136: The Jianghu
Thin, scattered clouds drifted across the sky, not threatening rain but casting a pall over the land.
The wheat fields below, not yet ripe for harvest, were a patchwork of trampled stalks and bare earth.
Barbarian cavalry had descended upon the stone town, the cries of the villagers echoing through the air. Soon, a group of farmers, shackled, were led away.
No laws, no explanations, just the brutal and efficient practice of conscription.
Shi Hao, Du Yuejiao, and Xu Xiaoyan watched the scene unfold from a nearby hill.
“They’re just taking people like that?” Du Yuejiao, shocked, said, “Aren’t they afraid of being reported to the court?”
Xu Xiaoyan turned and looked at her as if she were a fool.
Shi Hao shook his head, “It’s not just here. It’s happening all over. They need men for the canal project, for the army, and with the growing rebellions, even more men are needed to suppress them.
“Where do they get these men? They just… take them. The lives of commoners mean nothing to them.”
Xu Xiaoyan said sharply, “You’re just realizing this now? What world have you been living in?”
Du Yuejiao was speechless.
Shi Hao knew it wasn’t entirely her fault.
Her master, Zhuo Mulan, had sheltered her, and she had always been within the confines of the Chongxian Sect’s temples, each one a lavish and opulent sanctuary.
And even when traveling, she had always been hosted by wealthy families and local officials.
Although she knew about the “suffering of the common people,” knowing and seeing were two different things.
While the lower classes suffered, those in the upper echelons only saw the glamour and prosperity around them… It was a common phenomenon.
“Behind vermilion gates, wine and meat go to waste; out on the road lie the bones of the frozen dead,” Shi Hao sighed, “It’s always the common people who suffer the most. They feed the world, yet their lives are as worthless as weeds, easily discarded.”
Du Yuejiao remained silent. Having left the Chongxian Sect and her master’s protection, traveling with Shi Hao and Xu Xiaoyan, she felt like she had entered a different world.
These things had always been happening around her, but she had never truly noticed them.
Shi Hao wore a blue Daoist robe embroidered with cranes. Daoist robes varied in color and style, with blue representing “imitating the heavens.”
He carried a sword at his waist, but not the one forged by Daoist Tie Yu, which Xu Xiaoyan had claimed.
He was dressed as a Daoist cultivator, while Du Yuejiao wore a simple but elegant dress embroidered with flowers, making her look like a young lady from a wealthy family.
Xu Xiaoyan wore a green dress, her hair styled in a “hundred flowers bun” with braids framing her face, the seemingly ordinary “stick-sword” tucked into her sash.
She had named it “Su Jian” (Plain Sword), a reference to the phrase “embracing simplicity and returning to nature,” without even asking for his permission. He let it go.
The three of them were heading to the Wild Zen Forest for the Red Hill Gathering.
Shi Hao had attended the previous gathering shortly after the last full moon, led by Xu Xiaoyan.
Now, with the next gathering approaching, they had some free time and decided to attend again.
Shi Hao had confirmed that of the four main immortal ingredients he needed for his next breakthrough, he could perhaps obtain the three Dream Grasses through Zhuo Mulan, but the Illusory Sea Lingzhi and the Azure Sky Vermilion Fruit he would have to find himself.
After all, these were mid-rank ingredients, strictly controlled by the Chongxian Sect. Zhuo Mulan hadn’t reached her next breakthrough yet, and even if she had, those weren’t the ingredients she needed.
And Xu Xiaoyan wanted to sell the Blue Frost Moon Essence Shoot and the Blazing Sky Leaves she had obtained.
As they walked south, passing through a forest, Shi Hao suddenly stopped and turned.
“What is it?” Du Yuejiao asked, looking back at him.
Shi Hao stared at a pile of leaves at the base of a tree. Although the nights were getting cooler, it was still late summer, and there weren’t many fallen leaves in the forest.
This pile seemed… deliberately placed, as if hiding something.
Xu Xiaoyan leaped forward, drew her sword, and scattered the leaves, revealing a shallow grave, a woman’s body partially buried.
The body was naked, a ligature mark around its neck, a torn, flower-embroidered dress lying beside it.
It was clear what had happened to her before she died.
Du Yuejiao’s eyebrow twitched, and she said angrily, “Who did this?”
Xu Xiaoyan, after a moment of silence, covered the body with leaves again.
“Let’s go,” she said, her voice subdued, not lingering.
Shi Hao followed her. Du Yuejiao looked at them incredulously, “We’re just going to leave her here?”
Xu Xiaoyan, without turning around, said, “She’s dead. What else can we do?”
Du Yuejiao said, “We should at least find her family, return her body, and report this to the authorities… Even if they’re useless, we should still try to find the killer and bring him to justice.”
Xu Xiaoyan snorted, “This happens all the time. Can you save everyone?”
Du Yuejiao said coldly, “Even if we can’t solve every problem in the world, shouldn’t we at least try to do something? You always act so righteous, but you’re so cold-hearted.”
Xu Xiaoyan sneered, “You’re wrong. I’m not a hero, just a thief. You’re the hero. You stay here and help her.”
Du Yuejiao looked at Shi Hao, “Brother Shi…”
Shi Hao hesitated. On the one hand, as Xiaoyan had said, such tragedies were common. They couldn’t save everyone.
It wasn’t that Xiaoyan was cold-hearted. In fact, he knew she cared deeply, perhaps more than anyone. But having seen so much death and suffering in the martial world, she had become numb. It was a survival mechanism.
And Du Yuejiao, being relatively new to the martial world, witnessing such a scene firsthand, was naturally shocked and wanted to do something.
He understood Xu Xiaoyan’s reaction. He would have done the same.
The world was descending into chaos. Even heroes couldn’t save everyone.
They had witnessed the forced conscription of villagers earlier, knowing most of those men would die, but they hadn’t intervened.
But he couldn’t fault Du Yuejiao for wanting to do something… even if it was just a naive impulse, an impulse she would eventually lose.
And yet, despite knowing they should leave, they couldn’t shake their unease.
Shi Hao looked at Xu Xiaoyan, “Let’s take her down the mountain to the nearest village and try to find her family.”
Xu Xiaoyan remained silent, then turned back without a word.
The two girls uncovered the body and dressed it in its torn clothes.
Shi Hao examined the body, estimating she had been dead for three or four hours.
She wasn’t unattractive, but her rough hands and unkempt appearance suggested she wasn’t from a wealthy family.
She had likely been assaulted and killed on the road.
Shi Hao lifted her body, and they left the forest.
Reaching the nearest village, they were met with wary gazes.
The villagers’ eyes, filled with fear and suspicion, made them uncomfortable.
Du Yuejiao knocked on the door of a house.
After a while, an old woman opened the door, a small, thin girl peering out from behind her.
There were no men in the house. Perhaps they had been conscripted.
“Madam,” Du Yuejiao asked, “Is she from your village?”
The old woman looked at the body in Shi Hao’s arms, shook her head, and sighed, “No.”
They asked at another house, but the answer was the same.
In a small village like this, everyone knew each other.
If she had been from here, they would have recognized her.
They left the village, carrying the body.
At the next village, they still couldn’t find her family.
They hadn’t even found any clues, and most of the day had passed.
As darkness approached, they buried the body in a shallow grave, marking it with a crude, wooden cross.
They continued their journey to the Wild Zen Forest that night, their mood somber.
The next morning, they reached a small town under a light drizzle, the air damp and chilly.
They stopped at a teahouse in an alley to rest.
Although it was morning, the sky was overcast.
After a while, the teahouse filled with martial artists, two groups facing each other, their hostility evident.
The teahouse owner fled, but the two groups ignored him, settling down at separate tables, drinking tea.
Suddenly, they jumped up, shouting and cursing, tables and chairs overturned, weapons drawn. More men arrived, joining the fray, blades flashing, blood splattering.
Perhaps because Shi Hao, Du Yuejiao, and Xu Xiaoyan remained seated, calm and unconcerned, the fighting didn’t reach their corner.
Just yesterday, they had been saddened by a single, unclaimed body.
Now, they were surrounded by corpses.
They remembered the woman’s face, frozen in a mask of fear and despair.
Some had died unwillingly, others defiantly.
Perhaps… this was the jianghu, the martial world.
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