The Long, Hard Wait

On the other side.

Mounted on a tall, black horse, Qian Qi watched from afar and saw Cheng Buzheng enter Yaoshan Town with his own eyes. Then, without pausing for a moment, he turned around and rode back the way he had come.

At the moment the black-clad man wheeled his horse around and rode back, Cheng Buzheng, who had already entered Herb Town, stepped out from a corner and silently watched the man ride away.

He knew this man. He was one of the mounted guards riding alongside the Qian Family's caravan.

Cheng Buzheng silently turned and headed into town. After nearly a full day of continuous travel, he was exhausted. Besides, this was certainly not the best time to leave Yaoshan Town.

He found an inn in a secluded corner of Yaoshan Town, filled his stomach, then collapsed onto the bed and fell fast asleep.

In the dead of night, shortly before dawn.

At an inn in a secluded corner of Yaoshan Town, a short figure emerged from inside.

Cheng Buzheng made his way out of town in the dark. Fortunately, moonlight spilled over the road, making it just bright enough to see where he was going. He followed the main road toward the county seat, stumbling and falling countless times along the way. A journey that should have taken one shichen ended up taking a full three.

By the moonlight, Cheng Buzheng saw the three characters "Ping'an County" carved above the city gate. He was a sorry sight, his clothes stained with mud, and even his face was smeared with it.

At first glance, he was indistinguishable from a little beggar. The only difference was the mud-caked bundle in his hand.

Seeing the city gates firmly shut, Cheng Buzheng knew that a boy who looked like a beggar couldn't simply call out to the gate guards and get them to open the gates for him.

Only the powerful clans of the county or high-ranking officials had that privilege. Ordinary people weren't worth so much as a glance unless they had enough money. A pittance wouldn't even earn them a look.

Cheng Buzheng knew there was no way to enter the county seat now. The guards wouldn't open the gates until Mao Hour. He silently calculated that he still had about one shichen to wait.

The night wind was bitterly cold, and he huddled deeper into his clothes as he looked for somewhere sheltered from it.

Before long, he found a recessed spot in the city wall that blocked the cold night wind. He crouched in a corner and waited quietly for the gates to open.

He didn't know how much time had passed. Cheng Buzheng silently endured the night chill, shivering all over.

Suddenly.

"Creak. Creak."

The sound came from the city gates. Cheng Buzheng looked up and struggled to his feet after crouching for so long. He stretched his arms and legs. His face was still a little stiff, but at least he could move.

The Golden Crow had yet to rise.

He walked slowly to the gates and saw a few old women selling vegetables and an old man selling charcoal already lined up to enter.

As time passed, the line moved forward. Before long, it was his turn. After the two guards gave him a cursory inspection, they let him through.

Cheng Buzheng knew these guards were no different from those in town: they might snatch every last copper coin from him. So he had hidden his money in a compartment in the sole of his shoe long ago, and it had stayed safe.

This was the pocket money he had saved up. It would probably last until the immortal arrived. Otherwise, he would have to beg for a living.

He had to keep his clothes clean and his appearance neat when he met the immortal, so as not to give them any reason to take offense. Cheng Buzheng could only do everything within his power; the rest was up to fate.

The Golden Crow rose, and the sky began to brighten.

Cheng Buzheng wandered through the county seat until he finally found the cheapest inn. It was tucked away in a corner and rather run-down, but its prices were comparable to those at the inns in Yaoshan Town.

A truly fair deal.

Cheng Buzheng opened his room and untied his mud-stained bundle. Inside were clean clothes and shoes, three porcelain bottles, and a thoroughly washed writing brush. He laid them all out on the bed.

After fetching some hot water and washing up, he took the brush and three porcelain bottles from the bed. He studied his clear reflection in the wooden tub, opened the bottles, dipped the brush into the pigments inside, and began carefully painting his face.

By then, the sky was fully bright, and Cheng Buzheng had finished his disguise.

His face, once tinged with a sickly yellow, was now very fair. His sharply arched brows made him look bold and dashing, and his whole appearance was utterly unlike before. Unless someone who knew him well looked closely, they would never recognize him.

The pigments in the porcelain bottles were extracts he had obtained from processing herbs. Plain water wouldn't wash them off; only a specially prepared solution could remove them.

He had done this because he feared someone from the Qian Family might recognize him. Given Qian Zhe's petty nature, who knew what might happen if he spotted Cheng Buzheng in the county seat?

The trouble wouldn't affect him alone; his family could be dragged into it too. Better safe than sorry.

Once he had put everything away.

Cheng Buzheng lay down on the bed and pondered in silence. Before he knew it, he had drifted off to sleep.

At dusk, golden sunlight poured through the window and fell across Cheng Buzheng's face.

His brows twitched. A moment later, he opened his bleary eyes and glanced at the sky outside. His stomach was starting to growl, so he got ready and left the inn.

Vendors called out at the tops of their voices along the streets, creating a lively scene. There were many stalls on either side of the road, selling steamed buns, baked flatbread, and wontons.

Cheng Buzheng bought the cheapest two flatbreads and filled his stomach.

Then he wandered around the county seat, slowly familiarizing himself with its layout and making every preparation he could.

He knew the immortal's arrival would cause a huge commotion in the county seat. Over the next few days, he would walk around the county seat once in the morning and once in the afternoon. Fortunately, it wasn't very large, so he had enough time.

Every day, Cheng Buzheng ate nothing but flatbread to cover his three meals, trying to spend as little money as possible so it would last longer. The inn wasn't expensive, but the days could add up!

Otherwise, he would have to sleep on the streets. The guards might even drive him out of the county seat, especially with the immortal's arrival at hand. Those officials cared about appearances and wouldn't give a damn whether beggars lived or died.

When the time came, he wouldn't have any time to earn money. At his age, even if he managed to make some, he wouldn't be able to hold on to it. It would be like a child carrying gold through a bustling market—a sure way to invite disaster.

One morning.

Cheng Buzheng was strolling down the street, lost in thought, when he said to himself:

"With the money I have now, I can afford only seven days at the inn. And I still have to buy flatbread every day...

"Alas. Who knows when the immortal will arrive!"

Though his heart was heavy with worry, his expression remained as still and undisturbed as a pool of water.

Suddenly, cries of astonishment rang out in the distance.

"The immortal is here! The immortal really is here!"

In an instant, the crowd surged, and everyone turned to look at the distant sky.

"It really is the immortal! I saw them ten years ago!"

"I want to become the immortal's disciple!"

Almost everyone's face was alight with excitement, and they began talking all at once.

Cheng Buzheng looked up toward the distant sky. The White Jade Boat, which had seemed only one zhang long at first, grew larger and larger as it approached.

At last, he breathed a sigh of relief.

"They're finally here. If they'd waited any longer, I'd have been sleeping on the streets!"