Temporary Workers

Temporary Workers

"Allen, do you think I could perfectly unleash the power of Dusk Moon? Or are you planning to stop protecting your poor brother at my side?" When Qin Mo heard that Allen wanted to give him his own bow, he knew Allen had misunderstood. He merely wanted to improve an ordinary elven longbow, but Allen thought he found Ximan's bow lacking.

Allen looked at Qin Mo, bewilderment in his eyes. Ever since this junior brother and sworn brother of his had resolved the hidden danger in his body a few months ago, his personality had changed greatly as well.

The old Qin Mo rarely smiled and spent most of his time shut away in his own castle. But now, Qin Mo was becoming more and more cheerful, wandering around Tamsui City all day and constantly coming up with strange contraptions. Yet before long, those things would shatter Allen's worldview anew. Allen had asked Qin Mo about it before, but Qin Mo always credited the seal that had been undone within him.

"Ximan, try it as the heir apparent says. If it works, it would be a good thing. Quite a few brothers and sisters will be following the heir apparent to war this time, and they need stronger bows." Allen did not continue yielding to Qin Mo. Instead, he began directing Ximan, silently answering Qin Mo's question.

"Why should they follow me to the battlefield? This has nothing to do with them. Don't drag them into it." Qin Mo became anxious the moment he heard Allen's words.

"They volunteered." There was neither grief nor joy on Allen's face. Only the resolute look in his eyes showed his determination.

"I..." Qin Mo wanted to say something, but nothing came out. Elves truly did not like becoming too close to others, but their hearts were the most sincere. Once they set their minds on something, they would never change it.

Ever since the Elven Court withdrew from the Western Continent, the elves left behind on the continent had become drifting duckweed without roots, deprived of their foundation. As time passed, fewer and fewer pure-blooded elves remained, and their strength steadily weakened. But that was not the most fatal part. What was truly fatal was the covetous greed of every race.

Elves, half-elves, and even humans with elven blood all possessed extraordinary beauty. They had always been favored playthings among the upper classes of humans and vampires. While the Elven Court still existed, no one dared be too presumptuous. Now that the powerful elves had nearly withered away, those with ulterior motives naturally had no more reservations, hunting down humans with elven blood in great numbers for their own pleasure.

Thirty years ago, after Luna married Qin Lan, the two of them began sheltering half-elves and humans with elven blood. Once they reached Dayuan, far from the continent, countless elves flocked toward this rare land of peace. By now, there were three or four thousand half-elves and people with elven blood settled in the forests of Dayuan.

After arriving in Dayuan, these half-elves usually went into the mountains to find forests they liked and settle there. Strangely enough, the mountain natives had originally been extremely hostile toward outsiders, yet they were remarkably friendly toward these elves. When Qin Mo learned of it, he could only sigh... no matter when or where, good looks were a devastating weapon.

Fusang, Hirado Domain, lay northwest of Nagasaki. It was the westernmost town in Fusang, and Hirado Domain's Jokamachi was the most important departure point for traveling from Fusang to Great Xia—without question.

As the most important trade port between Fusang, Great Xia, Goryeo, and other nations, Jokamachi displayed a twisted prosperity. Ronin, pirates, and merchants mingled throughout the city, all transformed into lawful merchants. Perhaps once they put to sea tomorrow, they would return to their ravenous wolf natures. But as long as they remained in the city, every one of them wore an amiable face and haggled over prices.

A sailing ship with sharply upturned pointed ends sped toward the dock, drawing everyone's attention. They all made their living at sea, so they naturally knew that coming alongside at such speed was sheer madness. Even the finest sailors and first mates could not dock at that speed. Everyone watched the ship, waiting for it to ram a huge hole into itself. Yet the vessel made a crisp turn and slid precisely into its berth. Turning the helm, dropping the sails, and setting the poles were completed in one smooth motion. The watching sailors burst into cheers. The entire docking process was flawless, without a single unnecessary movement. Clearly, the sailors and first mates aboard were master navigators.

Lin Yongqian stepped off the ship and looked over the crowd filled with curiosity. He drew a breath, waved a hand, and headed deeper into the city. Twenty tall samurai clad head to toe in armor followed behind him, making the scheming petty scoundrels abandon any improper thoughts. Iron-armored guards were not people street thugs could afford to provoke.

Lin Yongqian first went to the Chinese Quarter and found an inn run by people from Fuzhou. After settling in, he bathed and changed clothes, preparing to request an audience with Matsuura Takanobu, the daimyo of Hirado Domain. The people of Fusang valued face above all else and loved cleanliness. If he went to pay a visit covered in dust and grime, it would likely invite needless trouble.

Although Lin Yongqian looked down on the people of Fusang—a place no bigger than a palm, where a few thousand or even a few hundred soldiers were enough for someone to call himself a daimyo—he still swallowed his anger and lowered his head to handle the matter when he recalled the heir apparent's instructions.

Upon arriving at the daimyo's residence, Lin Yongqian followed Qin Mo's prescribed routine and sent in an entire bolt of silk. Before long, he was granted an audience with the daimyo.

Matsuura Takanobu was nearly fifty, yet his back remained straight. His seemingly thin body faintly contained the killing aura that could only be forged through slaughter on the battlefield. He had conquered northern Hizen Province and Iki Province before becoming a daimyo. He was not comparable to those second- and third-generation heirs who sat in the daimyo's seat under the shade of their ancestors' tree.

"Esteemed Lord Matsuura, my heir apparent sent me to Fusang for two reasons. First, for our mutual benefit. Second, he needs to recruit some ronin to serve him temporarily." Although Lin Yongqian had observed every courtesy when meeting Matsuura Takanobu, as the son of a military family from the suzerain state, his words naturally carried the arrogance of one in a higher position.

"What matter concerns the mutual benefit mentioned by Prince Heng's heir apparent? And recruiting ronin—how many does your lord intend to recruit?" Matsuura Takanobu did not object to Lin Yongqian's proposal to recruit ronin, because these ronin gave him quite a headache as well.

Ronin were warriors who had left their masters and drifted about everywhere. Put plainly, their masters had died, leaving them nowhere to go. They knew nothing but fighting, so they could only wander from place to place—hence the name ronin. They had once tasted the benefits of being among the highborn, and now that they had nothing, they were naturally unwilling to accept it, causing trouble like mad wherever they went.

Fusang had been embroiled in chaotic warfare year after year in recent times. No one knew how many daimyo had died, to say nothing of the samurai as numerous as the hairs on an ox. Lin Yongqian's arrival to recruit ronin could be considered a favor to Matsuura Takanobu, cleansing the social environment and improving public security.

"My heir apparent requires seven thousand men. Does Hirado Domain have that many ronin?" Lin Yongqian actually knew nothing about Fusang. Dayuan had never engaged in maritime trade before—not because they did not want to, but because they lacked the capital. Everything they produced was sold directly to Great Xia for silver, which was then squandered as expedition funds for ventures across the sea.

"Seven thousand? Did you say seven thousand men, sir, rather than seven hundred?" Matsuura Takanobu wondered whether his Great Xia language skills were insufficient, to the point that he could not even distinguish between 'thousand' and 'hundred.'

"Of course it is seven thousand. What use would seven hundred be?" Lin Yongqian looked at Matsuura Takanobu with utter disdain. Did they think Great Xia was like Fusang? They had the nerve to send a few hundred men to war? Even a duke-level lord had several hundred personal guards.

"Well... Hirado Domain is a poor backwater. If you wish to recruit so many ronin, sir, you will need to go to Edo. It is prosperous there, and ronin gather in that place." A chill ran through Matsuura Takanobu's heart. Great Xia truly was the suzerain state—even its temporary workers were recruited with such grandeur.