Fang Yuan had the chipped Chopping knife slung at his side, with the fine steel Short Dagger taken from the assassin hidden at his waist.
He carried a heavy cloth bag in one hand, containing a full six hundred taels of silver, as he walked through the familiar streets of Qinghe County.
"Wang Yushuang really did things generously." He weighed the money bag in his hand, and the corner of his mouth lifted slightly.
Although the Third Master of the Baimao Merchant Guild came from a distinguished background, she acted forthrightly and paid without hesitation, leaving him with a rather favorable impression.
With this money, his family would not need to worry about making a living for a long while.
In his cheerful mood, he even found himself humming a tuneless little song, his steps especially light.
On both sides of the street, familiar cries of vendors rose and fell, brimming with the lively bustle of ordinary life.
"Fresh hot steamed buns out of the basket—"
"Mutton soup! Mutton soup to drive off the cold and warm your body—"
The clamor rang in his ears, leaving Fang Yuan, who had only just returned from a perilous brush with blades and death, feeling strangely dazed.
Only days ago, he had been fighting for his life against routed soldiers and assassins in the wilderness. Now, he was back amid the peaceful warmth of everyday life.
"No wonder those escort men always went to taverns and gambling houses to indulge themselves after coming back..."
He understood. After a journey with one's head hanging from one's belt, the enormous contrast of setting foot once more in a place of peace truly required some outlet to vent and restore one's balance.
But he had no mind for pleasure at the moment.
A thought, like a