Inside the tent.
Hu Lao San watched Fang Yuan leave, hesitated, then finally could not resist speaking in a low voice, his tone tinged with regret:
"Miss... that boy may have no hope of drawing in qi, but with that brute strength alone, even three to five grown men would have a hard time getting near him.
The roads are far from peaceful now. Having one more capable hand means one more measure of protection... why not..."
Qin Yue lifted her gaze from the account book and gave Hu Lao San an indifferent glance.
Ordinarily, she might not have had the patience to explain. But considering that Old Hu had served diligently enough these past years,
she unusually said a few more words, though her tone remained cold:
"If these were peaceful times, bringing him along would mean nothing more than spending a little extra grain. It would indeed be no great matter."
Then her tone shifted, and her fingertips tapped the tabletop.
"But what times are these? The rebellion in Hanshan Commandery has yet to be put down. Refugees and routed soldiers are everywhere, and every place is jumpy at the mere rustle of wind.
To protect themselves, the county town scrutinizes newcomers so harshly it is practically finding fault in an egg!
How many hurdles in the yamen must be greased for every new household registration slot? How much silver and how many favors must be spent?"
She looked at Hu Lao San, her eyes filled with cold shrewdness and calculation.
"Is it worth spending those resources on someone whose Martial Dao is doomed to end, someone with nothing but a little brute strength?"
She gave a soft snort and delivered her final judgment—the most realistic rule of these troubled times:
"Without reaching the second rank, one is