Chapter Ninety-Eight: Farewell to Shang Wenyi Again

Page (1/3)

Watching the throngs of merchants and travelers, Su Bozhen was at a loss as to how to find the person in charge. If he went straight to the man seated atop the mountain spider and asked to join the caravan, there was a very high chance he would be outright rejected. Su Bozhen was not one to feel uneasy in his presence.

Yet after searching for a long time, he still hadn’t found the person he sought.

The longer time passed, the more crowded the street became. Originally wide and spacious, the entire thoroughfare was now packed to capacity.

Hundreds of meters of the massive caravan were stuck halfway outside the city gate, unable to enter, but this did not stop more people from surging in.

Suddenly, a thunder beast let out a long roar, like a clap of thunder from the heavens, causing the earth to tremble faintly. The roar scattered the nearby crowd, who were clearly frightened by this colossal creature.

Su Bozhen was only about a hundred meters from the thunder beast and barely managed to withstand the shockwave with a burst of internal energy.

Looking again, the thunder beast was about ten feet tall and over forty feet long. On its back sat a small sedan chair about eight feet square, draped on all sides with sheer veils. The figure seated inside was indistinct, but the graceful silhouette hinted that the caravan’s mistress was a woman.

“Could it be…” Su Bozhen suddenly recalled the vivid memories of a passionate encounter beneath the city gate years ago. The woman’s voice and smile still lingered in his mind.

Back then, he had almost died on the run, but she had helped him sell his horses; otherwise, he would not have had a morsel to eat.

“Could such a coincidence really happen?” Su Bozhen murmured, staring at the platform atop the thunder beast.

Two scholarly-looking men nearby were whispering to each other. Su Bozhen eavesdropped attentively.

One wore a turquoise brocade robe, his long black hair tied high, cascading down his back like a waterfall. His demeanor was not that of an ordinary family; he appeared to be a wealthy son from Qingzhou. He lightly fanned himself with a folding fan, an expression of surprise in his eyes: “I didn’t expect the sixth young lady to take charge of the north-south caravan this time.”

The man beside him was dressed similarly and seemed familiar, likely a schoolmate. Hearing this, he asked in confusion, “The sixth young lady? Isn’t the Shang family supposed to have only five sons? When did a sixth appear?”

The turquoise-robed man smiled calmly and shook his head: “Brother, you seem to be uninformed.”

“Please, enlighten me.”

The brocaded man waved his hand modestly: “Well, it’s just rumors I’ve heard around town. The sixth young lady is said to be the illegitimate daughter of the Shang family patriarch, Shang Yuncheng. Nine years ago, she returned to acknowledge her roots. The Shang family has poured countless resources into her, and some even say she is destined to inherit the family’s future leadership.”

“A woman like that?” The schoolmate gaped in astonishment.

But the turquoise-robed man sighed and shook his head: “Such a pity, really a pity.”

“What do you mean? What’s so unfortunate?” The other was puzzled by his tone and pressed for an explanation.

“Unfortunately, the sixth young lady is ill-suited for such a heavy responsibility.”

“Don’t speak nonsense! Since the Shang family has invested so much in her, there must be a reason. Outsiders like us have no right to judge,” the schoolmate said, warning the other with a meaningful glance.

“You’re right, I spoke too hastily,” the turquoise-robed man immediately fell silent.

After they left, Su Bozhen lightly stroked his chin, his eyes gleaming with a strange light.

Only after the incense burned down did the nearly kilometer-long caravan finally pass all the city’s inspections.

Su Bozhen’s gaze never left the thunder beast.

“Don’t tell me you have designs on this Miss Shang,” Qu Qiuzhuo suddenly appeared, his tone teasing, “Just finished with one and now already eyeing another. That’s so like you.”

“What?” Su Bozhen was momentarily stunned, his thoughts interrupted.

“This woman comes from a powerful background. I worry your appetite will outgrow your capacity, and you might choke yourself trying to swallow it whole,” Qu Qiuzhuo sneered coldly.

Page (2/3)

This time, Su Bozhen paid no mind to Qu Qiuzhuo’s teasing and spoke seriously: “I’m thinking, if I could join the Shang family and become one of the sixth young lady’s subordinates, it might be better than staying at Blood River Tower.”

Qu Qiuzhuo, speaking through the jade pendant, nodded in agreement: “If you can hitch a ride on the Shang family’s big ship, that would be ideal. Blood River Tower no longer holds value for you, especially with a treacherous elder inside. If he knows you’re alive, he certainly won’t let things rest.”

“That’s exactly what I thought. Originally, I planned to return after claiming the final trial reward to find a chance to leave my sect. But now…” Su Bozhen’s gaze shifted back to the faint figure on the thunder beast’s back, and he spoke deliberately, “I can temporarily change that plan.”

“What’s your idea?” Qu Qiuzhuo’s interest was piqued; he hadn’t considered how Su Bozhen might immediately become close to Shang Wenyu.

“I once met this Miss Shang. She is soft-hearted and kind-faced. Whenever the caravan passes through a city, she distributes porridge and grain. Though she has the reputation of being a sentimental woman, she has won the favor of many small merchants and common folk.”

Qu Qiuzhuo narrowed his eyes and, through the jade pendant, appraised Su Bozhen, clicking his tongue admiringly: “Well, well. After three days, I see you with new eyes. I didn’t expect your skill in preying on the honest to be quite impressive.”

“…”

Su Bozhen glanced up at the sky. The midday sun bore down, but under the protection of his Ice Silkworm Poison Silk garment, he felt no discomfort.

“There’s still time; we can prepare,” Su Bozhen said mysteriously. “We’re heading to a good place now.”

“Where?”

“The City God Temple.”

…

Dressed in dark robes with his handsome face, Su Bozhen looked every bit the wealthy young master, humming a tune as he walked toward the abandoned City God Temple on the southeast outskirts.

Two hours later, they arrived. The temple was overgrown with weeds, walls crumbled and broken, a scene of desolation and ruin. The place had long been neglected, evoking a bleak loneliness.

Inside, statues at the entrance were damaged and covered in cobwebs; the hall had collapsed, and incense burners lay overturned, all conveying a sense of desolate abandonment.

“You don’t mean to pretend to be poor to win sympathy, do you?” Qu Qiuzhuo scoffed.

Su Bozhen scratched his head and asked, “What’s wrong with that?”

“Big problem!” Qu Qiuzhuo placed a hand on his forehead, exasperated but restraining himself from outright mocking. “Even if you win sympathy, what makes you think that’ll get you into the caravan? At best, they might toss you a steamed bun.”

“And this face of yours isn’t suitable at all. Don’t tell me you’re relying on disguise magic—that’s useless against those at the Transcendent realm. It might fool novices or below, but not those above.”

“The man atop the mountain spider is likely at least Transcendent Level Three. You can’t hide from him. If you get caught, you won’t be able to explain.”

“What should I do then?” Su Bozhen lowered his head, mulling over this and silently asking Qu Qiuzhuo.

“I advise you to buy two sets of ordinary clothes and change out of that outfit. Then pilfer some goods casually, pose as a merchant, and try to join the caravan. Better yet, use makeup to appear as a poor person. That should get you in.”

“You said Shang Wenyu distributes porridge locally, right? Her Transcendent-level guards will be nearby. If you blend into the caravan, you’ll have a better chance.”

Qu Qiuzhuo paused, then continued, “As for climbing the social ladder to Shang Wenyu, that depends on whether she gives you the chance. No matter how anxious you are now, preparing to seize the opportunity Heaven grants is what matters.”

“Alright, I’ll prepare now,” Su Bozhen nodded slightly, agreeing.

Suddenly, a beggar appeared beside him, extending a dirtied hand toward Su Bozhen’s trousers.

But Su Bozhen’s agility was exceptional; he flashed to the side, evading the attempted grab.

Page (3/3)

Looking at the gaunt middle-aged man before him, Su Bozhen exclaimed, “Hey, no honor among thieves? An ambush, huh?”

“Master, please spare some food. I’ve been starving for three days,” the man pleaded, bowing repeatedly like a pestle pounding rice.

“I still had my steamed bun this morning. No spare money for you,” Su Bozhen replied, flicking his sleeve and walking away. What was there to pity about this guy?

The beggar muttered after him, “Hmph! If you won’t give, then don’t pretend!”

…

Following Qu Qiuzhuo’s advice, Su Bozhen first acquired two sets of clothing. Of course, with his current funds, he couldn’t afford them himself.

Naturally, the goods were obtained through unofficial channels.

Still, he managed to finish before dusk, calculating that Shang Wenyu’s distribution would be nearly done by then. He tied a rope around his waist, dragging a small cart covered with tattered cloth, loaded with miscellaneous items.

Looking at the nearby caravan, Su Bozhen took a deep breath and pulled out a bronze mirror to admire his appearance. “Not bad, the makeup should be convincing.”

“Who goes there!”

“Stop right there!”

Guards immediately stepped forward, drawing blades several inches from their sheaths, warning Su Bozhen not to advance further.

Su Bozhen’s face was haggard, his hair matted, his patched and ragged clothes making him indistinguishable from a beggar.

“Wait!” A middle-aged man stepped forward, halting the guards, then said to Su Bozhen, “The porridge distribution is in the southern part of the city. Go there.”

“See? I told you the makeup was overdone. Now they think you’re a beggar. Ha ha ha,” Qu Qiuzhuo’s voice echoed through the jade pendant before Su Bozhen could reply to Cao Wu.

Cao Wu noticed Su Bozhen’s embarrassment and realized he had misjudged his intentions.

“Uh,” Su Bozhen felt awkward, explaining, “Actually, I’m here to join the caravan. To be honest, I sold my family estate to buy this batch of goods. But no one here wants to buy them. I was hoping to travel with the caravan to Youzhou, where I can sell better.”

“Oh, that’s simple,” Cao Wu nodded after hearing his explanation. “Old Xue, take him to sign the contract.”

“All right!” Cao Wu’s shout was cut off as a portly, greasy middle-aged man with a protruding belly staggered toward Su Bozhen.

However, seeing Su Bozhen’s shabby appearance, he immediately lost interest and scowled: “Come with me. Leave your goods here; someone will take care of them later. Don’t worry about anyone stealing your junk.”

The disdain in his tone was clear, but Su Bozhen paid no mind; he wasn’t here for this fat pig anyway.

They entered a huge wagon—no, it was more like a mobile room, fully equipped.

The greasy man, called Old Xue by Cao Wu, pulled a contract from a drawer and slapped it on the table. Seeing Su Bozhen’s country bumpkin gaze wandering, he snapped, “Don’t touch anything! Can you afford to pay if you break it?”

Then, impatiently, he said, “We’re not running a charity. You have to pay us fifteen percent of your profits from selling your goods.”

Pointing at the contract, he urged, “If there’s no problem, sign quickly and get out!”

…