030: Save Me!

The shopkeeper next door perked up as soon as he heard that.

He stuck his head out to "tease" the customer, his words dripping with contempt. "Hey, you old geezer. You can tell what only a nobleman would have?"

Another customer who'd come to buy meat chimed in. "Maybe he's seen too many 'noblemen' at the brothel..."

The customer showed no sign of being bothered by the taunts, which carried a hint of malice. His eyes, weathered by a thousand storms, held nothing but calm.

The butcher, however, found them grating.

He snatched up a boning knife and brandished it as if to chase them away.

He put on a fierce face. "Go on, get out of here! Don't come around and ruin my business. You buying meat or not? If not, go stand somewhere else."

The other onlookers lost interest and drifted away.

The butcher might have done dirty, exhausting work, but his was the wealthiest and most comfortable household on the street, and people gave his words some weight. Ordinary families only treated themselves to meat during festivals, while his family ate it every few days. Their dishes were always slick with oil.

Even his neighbors didn't dare offend him lightly.

Once the crowd had dispersed, the butcher asked the customer, "Old geezer, was what you said just now true?"

The customer smiled. "Of course."

The butcher smacked his lips and asked, "How'd you know?"

He was curious how the old geezer had recognized from so far away that it was a Literary Heart Sigil, not an ordinary ornament.

The customer tapped the butcher's counter with a bent finger and said with a smile, "That doesn't matter. What matters is that you're going to lose, and you have to honor your wager."

"Fine, fine, fine. If I lose, that's cause for celebration! I'll go buy another couple taels of good liquor to go with the food..." The butcher waved a hand carelessly. He had a well-paid job and didn't begrudge that little "stake." As they waited, he leaned both arms on the wooden counter and chatted with the customer. "Hey, old geezer, you talk like a scholar. Did you really study?"

"I know a few characters."

The butcher perked up. He slapped the counter. "Old geezer, you know my kid's about to start learning to read..."

The customer asked mildly, "You want your child to study?"

The butcher nodded. "He doesn't need to learn that many characters. I'm not expecting my kid to become an official. With our family's roots, what chance does he have of becoming a nobleman? Just teach him a few characters, so people can't cheat him when he's figuring accounts. This shop's going to belong to him someday..."

"What if your child has a Literary Heart or Martial Spirit? Would you support him? A Literary Heart studies the classics, and Martial Spirit trains the body. Either one would eat through your entire fortune."

The butcher thought the old geezer was poking fun at him. He pursed his lips and swiftly chopped the meat. "People like us? My kid's not cut out for that. He can just learn how to butcher meat from me..."

As far as he remembered, anyone with a Literary Heart Sigil or Martial Gall Tiger Tally was a nobleman. They were either powerful officials or filthy rich—in short, people above the rest. They could scale walls and leap over rooftops, and even Create Something from Nothing. Those were methods only immortals could wield.

They were just ordinary folk, rolling around in the mud.

He was a butcher, so his child would surely become a butcher too.

Anything else?

How could he dare hope for so much?

The customer watched the butcher, his gaze as still as water. The man didn't even dare indulge in a daydream, and the sight left the customer feeling heavy-hearted.

He sighed. "A father's trade..."

The butcher didn't understand. "What's that?"

"It means a child following in his father's footsteps," the customer explained. "The son of a good smith must learn to make fur garments; the son of a good bowyer must learn to make baskets."

The butcher understood even less, but one thing was certain: the old geezer really could read. In fact, he probably knew quite a lot!

That only made him more confused.

Who didn't respect a person who could read and write these days?

The old geezer could have taught children to read and write and would never have had to end up like this. How had he been bought by the Moonlit Pavilion to work as a kitchen hand?

The butcher was full of questions, but the customer didn't want to say more. Then business came in, and he had no choice but to put his thoughts aside.

He planned to bring his child to see the old geezer that evening, along with a couple more pounds of good meat. Eating offal every day was bound to make a person sick.

Meanwhile, the thug led Shen Tang farther away.

He took the main road for a while. Once Shen Tang's attention had been drawn elsewhere and she'd let her guard down, he suggested taking a shortcut through the alleys.

The farther they went, the more desolate it became. The quieter, too.

At last, Shen Tang began to show clear signs of unease.

She asked the man, "How much farther is the inn?"

"Almost there, almost there."

They turned down two more alleys, and Shen Tang asked again.

"Are you sure we haven't taken a wrong turn?"

The man grew impatient. They were only a few steps from their destination, and he felt he had the upper hand. He raised his voice several notches to intimidate Shen Tang. "I said we're almost there. What's got you in such a hurry, young lady?"

Shen Tang sensed something was wrong and panicked. "I want to go back..."

The man chuckled and refused to stop. "Too late!"

He kicked open the gate and called into the courtyard, "Got a new customer!"

It was an extremely remote, filthy courtyard. Weeds crawled through the cracks in its walls, and muffled conversation came from inside.

Shen Tang made as if to climb down from the Motorcycle and run.

The moment her feet hit the ground, before she could steady herself, the man shoved her hard into the courtyard. She stumbled badly, off balance, then turned in alarm to see a man and a woman walking out.

The woman said, "What a pretty young lady. Lai Tou, where'd you trick her from? Look at that soft, delicate skin..."

As she spoke, she reached out to pinch Shen Tang's cheek.

Shen Tang recoiled in fright and glared at the man called "Lai Tou." "Y-you—you weren't sent by Yuan Liang?"

Lai Tou ignored Shen Tang and answered on his own. "She followed me without a fuss after just a few words. Pretty as she is, she hasn't got much of a brain."

The man beside the woman moved closer to inspect Shen Tang's face. She shrank back timidly, looking ready to cry.

The man licked his lips and gave a low chuckle. "What does a girl need brains for? If women had brains, how would we do business? We'll take her to the Moonlit Pavilion later. They've been pestering us for good stock."

The woman ignored his broadside. "The Moonlit Pavilion? Isn't that place full of male courtesans? What do they want a girl for?"

Lai Tou and the man exchanged a knowing smile.

Their lechery hung between them, leaving nothing to be said.

"You don't understand. They ask for goods, we give them goods."

"Exactly. Women shouldn't stick their noses into everything."

Lai Tou pushed Shen Tang by the shoulder, intending to lock her in a pitch-black, filthy little room that reeked of something unspeakable.

Shen Tang sidestepped him.

Furious, she gritted her teeth. "You dare sell me?"

The woman sneered. Her eyes suddenly sharpened as she reached out to pinch Shen Tang. "We can sell some little girl like you, and we can sell the daughter of the King of Heaven himself. Behave yourself! Otherwise, you'll find out what happens!"

Shen Tang darted around a pillar. Her eyes reddened as she ran, and she cursed, "Aren't you afraid Heaven will punish you for this?"

Seeing Shen Tang getting bolder the more she ran, the three prepared to take her down together and beat her soundly, to teach her a lesson.

"Punishment?" Lai Tou spat. "I'm Heaven's punishment!"

"Qi Yuanliang, save me!"

The man said, "You could scream yourself hoarse and no one would save you!"

This little girl could really run, slippery as an eel.

"I'm so scared!"

Shen Tang's voice trembled with tears.

The courtyard was tiny. Before long, the three had her trapped with nowhere to run. The young woman, seemingly on the verge of tears, hunched her shoulders.

Then, in the next instant, the fear vanished from her face.

"Not a chance!"

She kicked off the wall for leverage and spun, sweeping out with a long leg.