The Weasel Pays a New Year's Visit to the Chicken

The sun climbed higher, yet Lin Qing did not head straight back to the city.

Instead, he detoured to a secluded creek at the foot of Azure Cloud Ridge.

He found a flat bluestone to sit on and carefully washed away the dried blood and filth from his body.

Only after confirming that not a single stain remained did he feel a slight sense of relief.

The creek water was bone-chillingly cold, yet it could not compare to the chill currently gripping his heart.

On his return journey, he deliberately chose a circuitous path.

Though it was further, it allowed him to avoid the heavy traffic of the main road.

Passing through forests and crossing streams, he did not stop until the low, mottled walls of Qingping County appeared in the distance.

Only then did Lin Qing's tightly coiled heart relax a fraction.

The city gate remained boisterous, with long lines of vegetable vendors and merchants waiting to enter.

Several guards, their caps tilted askew, leaned on their spears as they picked through the passing commoners, occasionally shouting and extorting petty bribes.

When it was Lin Qing's turn, a guard with a scar at the corner of his eye caught sight of the bulging herb basket on his back and lazily tapped the rim with his spear shaft.

"Herb picker?"

"My respects to the officer, I am from Benevolent World Hall in the city," Lin Qing explained.

The guards on duty today seemed to be a different batch.

They were not as easy to deal with as the ones before.

"I don't care who you are; open the basket and let me see."

The scarred guard waved his hand impatiently.

Lin Qing complied, lifting a corner of the tattered cloth to reveal the messy, ordinary herbs inside.

The guard reached in, rummaged through them with practiced ease, and tucked a few higher-quality sprigs of Creeping Euphorbia and Pinellia into his own tunic.

The movement was fluid, clearly a habit born of long practice.

He weighed the remaining handful of herbs in his hand, and seeing there was nothing left to squeeze out, he waved his hand dismissively: "Fine, get lost."

Lin Qing dared not voice his anger, so he simply hurried through the gate.

In this world, the authorities hold all the power.

The common folk at the bottom are nothing but dough to be kneaded at will.

By the time he returned to Yongning Street, the sun was high in the sky.

Benevolent World Hall remained firmly shut.

It was so desolate that it felt out of place amidst the bustling street market nearby.

Just as he approached the door to his own backyard, the gate to the neighboring courtyard creaked open.

He Xiaoya, the daughter of the He family next door, stepped out carrying a wooden basin to toss out water.

The young girl was about fourteen or fifteen years old.

She wore a patched floral shirt and had a delicate, pretty face.

Her eyes brightened slightly when she saw Lin Qing.

Then, her face turned shy, and she greeted him timidly: "Brother Lin Qing, you're back? Was the mountain path easy to walk?"

"Yes, I'm back. The road was fine."

Lin Qing stopped and managed to squeeze out a faint smile.

"Wait for me."

He Xiaoya set down the basin, wiped her hands on her apron, and hurried back into the house.

A moment later, she emerged holding a steaming white flour bun, thrusting it into Lin Qing's hand without room for argument: "Brother Lin Qing, you've been out all morning, you must be hungry. It's fresh out of the pot, have a taste..."

"I couldn't possibly," Lin Qing declined.

"Just take it!"

He Xiaoya insisted, her voice as soft as a mosquito's hum.

"Brother Lin Qing, your family is struggling. My mother always says that a near neighbor is better than a distant relative, and we should help each other out..."

Before she could finish, her ears turned bright red. Not daring to look at Lin Qing again, she lowered her head and hurried back into her courtyard.

Before closing the door, she snuck one last glance at him.

Holding the warm bun in his palm, a rare sense of warmth flickered through Lin Qing's heart.

He tucked the bun into his tunic and raised his hand to knock on his own backyard door.

"Who is it?"

Lin Wan's vigilant voice came from behind the door, carrying a trace of imperceptible trembling.

"Sister, it's me, A-Qing."

The bolt slid back, and Lin Qing slipped into the room, quickly closing and latching the door tight behind him.

Lin Wan stood right behind the door, her face pale, clearly having been worried for quite some time.

She stepped forward, anxiously looking Lin Qing over: "Why were you gone so long? You didn't run into any danger, did you?"

Seeing her gaze sweep over his torn sleeve and the scrapes on his hands, Lin Qing turned slightly, feigning a relaxed tone: "It's nothing, Sister. I just wandered the outer perimeter of the mountain. The path was steep and the moss was slippery, so I took a tumble and grazed my skin. I gathered some common medicinal herbs—not many, but at least I didn't come back empty-handed."

He set down his basket and began taking out the ordinary herbs one by one to organize them, deliberately avoiding the true harvest hidden against his chest.

Lin Wan helped him brush the dust and grass clippings from his clothes. Looking at the unremarkable herbs, she sighed softly and didn't ask further, only saying gently: "As long as you've returned safely, that's all that matters. Rest your feet for a moment; I'll go heat up some food."

"Mm."

At the dinner table, there was only simple, coarse fare.

Lin Qing shoveled a few mouthfuls of rice into his mouth and asked, seemingly casual: "Sister, in our Qingping County, which martial halls have a good reputation, follow proper paths, and are reliable?"

"That Iron Thread Fist Martial Hall you mentioned before—is Master Hong trustworthy?"

Hearing this, Lin Wan set down her chopsticks and looked at him: "Why do you suddenly ask about this?"

"Nothing much, just feeling that these times are not peaceful. With no pillar of the house, I have to find a way to protect myself."

Lin Qing poked at the rice in his bowl: "Besides, if we have connections with a martial hall, perhaps the shop will have an easier time as well."

Lin Wan pondered for a moment and said: "Master Hong of the Iron Thread Fist Martial Hall in the inner city should be reliable. After all, Master Hong was a senior apprentice to Father when he studied there, and Father also spent a few years learning fist and foot techniques there to strengthen his body when he was young."

"And didn't I tell you? Father used to go there often to deliver Blood-Strengthening Powder and bruise plasters."

"It's just that ever since Father was conscripted, the martial hall only came by once. Perhaps they felt it was inconvenient for us, or perhaps they found other sources for their herbs, so they stopped coming as often."

She paused, her eyes looking keenly at Lin Qing, and lowered her voice: "A-Qing, tell Sister the truth. Did you... find something good?"

Lin Qing thought to himself that his sister was sharp-minded. Knowing he couldn't hide it, he nodded and whispered: "I did have some harvest, enough to solve our pressing needs. But as for what exactly it is, it's better if you don't know, Sister, so you won't have to worry."

Lin Wan looked at his steady gaze, knowing that after this experience, her younger brother seemed to have grown up quite a bit.

She stopped questioning him and only urged: "Since you have a plan, Sister supports you. If you want to go to the Iron Thread Fist Martial Hall, you can mention Father's name and the name of our Benevolent World Hall."

"Master Hong might show some leniency out of respect for old times."

Lin Qing took this to heart.

After finishing his meal and resting for a while, he tucked the Red Blood Ganoderma away and prepared to head out.

Just as he pulled open the tightly shut door of Benevolent World Hall, Steward Pan from the Security Hall across the street greeted him with a face full of smiles.

"Young Master Lin, I heard you went into the mountains early this morning. You must have had a bountiful harvest?"

"Nothing of the sort, just gathered some common herbs," Lin Qing said, waving his hand.

Steward Pan's gaze scanned him for a moment, and he said with a smile that didn't reach his eyes: "Our hall is currently short on fresh mountain goods. If the Young Master is willing to part with them, Security Hall is willing to purchase them at thirty percent above market price. How about it?"

Lin Qing sneered inwardly, knowing this was a weasel paying respects to a chicken.

On the surface, however, he showed a look of hesitation: "I appreciate Steward Pan's kindness. Your hall has a vast source of medicinal materials; if something were to go wrong with the things gathered by our small, humble household, we wouldn't be able to bear the responsibility. It's better to avoid suspicion."

Having said that, without waiting for the other party to speak again, he bowed and turned to leave.

Watching Lin Qing's retreating back, Pan An's smile faded, and his eyes turned cold.

"Hmph, I'd like to see what kind of waves a little fish like you can stir up."