Asking a Few Questions

Mo Yun tucked away his token, slung his bundle over his back, and hurried down the mountain path.

The thin morning mist had yet to fully disperse. Worried about his older sister, Mo Yiyi, Mo Yun walked quickly, wishing he could fly straight back to Yellow Maple Town.

Before long, Mo Yun reached the town at the foot of the mountain and hired a carriage.

"To Yellow Maple Town."

The driver was a seasoned hand in his forties. He glanced at Mo Yun's clothes and grinned. "A servant from Crouching Tiger Manor, eh, young fellow? Heading home on your day off?"

"Yes." Mo Yun nodded and climbed into the carriage without saying more.

The carriage wheels turned, and they sped along the main road.

Mo Yun leaned against the carriage wall and closed his eyes to rest, but his mind kept returning to how he had felt after his breakthrough.

He had reached the beginner level of the Tiger-Crouching Fist and generated Force Energy. He now counted as a true martial artist. Though he stood at the very bottom, the difference between him and an ordinary person was already as vast as heaven and earth.

Once I return from my day off, I'll apply to join the Guard Team. I need to establish myself as soon as possible and bring my sister over.

Making plans, he took the token from inside his robe and examined it closely.

The token was palm-sized, with a fierce tiger descending a mountain engraved on the front and two large, archaic characters reading "Crouching Tiger" on the back.

It was a special token Mountain Manor had issued to the few of them who had earned the right to learn martial arts. He had made a point of keeping it on his person.

The carriage sped onward, finally reaching Yellow Maple Town after a little over two hours.

Mo Yun got out, paid the fare, and headed first to a cloth shop in town.

"Shopkeeper, get me a brightly colored blouse-and-skirt set." He stopped at the counter, his gaze sweeping over the colorful fabrics.

The shopkeeper was a woman in her forties. Rather than looking down on Mo Yun for his servant's uniform, she warmly took a peach-red outfit from a shelf.

"How about this one? Fine cotton, excellent stitching. Three hundred copper coins."

Mo Yun took the outfit and felt the fabric. It was indeed good quality. He checked the color and size as well and thought it would suit her.

"Wrap it up."

Then he picked out some rouge and face powder at a nearby shop.

Next, Mo Yun visited the market, buying five jin of pork, ten jin of white flour, twenty jin of rice, and a few miscellaneous daily necessities.

With everything purchased, he hired another carriage and set off for Mo Family Village.

The carriage left town and headed north along a country dirt road.

After roughly two hours, they approached a fork near Mo Family Village. A roadside tea stall stood there, with several idle men sitting around drinking tea and chatting.

Mo Yun had intended to go straight past, but he heard a chorus of sighs from the tea stall and faintly caught the name of Mo Family Village, along with his father's name, Mo Lin.

"Stop." He called to the driver, jumped down from the carriage, and walked toward the tea stall.

"Shopkeeper, a bowl of tea." Mo Yun approached the stall and sat down in an empty seat.

Mo Yun did not find it strange to hear his father's name at a tea stall.

After all, before his father disappeared a few years ago, he had run several shops in town. Business had been fairly good, and his travels far and wide had earned him something of a name in the area.

The tea stall owner was an old man who quickly poured a bowl of coarse tea and brought it over.

Mo Yun accepted the tea but did not drink. He pricked up his ears and listened to the idle men chatting.

"I hear Mo Lin's boy has been at Crouching Tiger Manor for a month now?" A stubble-faced man sipped his tea and smacked his lips.

"That's right. Counting the days, today ought to be his day off."

A thin man with a pointed mouth and monkey-like cheeks chimed in beside him. "I hear Crouching Tiger Manor gobbles up short-lived servants. Plenty have died these past few years. Who knows whether that boy will make it back alive?"

"And what if he does? He probably won't even have a home to return to..." A middle-aged man in a tattered padded jacket sighed and continued.

"Mo Feng mortgaged Mo Lin's old house to Shopkeeper Zhao in town last month. They're clearing it out today! Mo Lin's daughter is blocking them and refusing to leave. She's likely to come off badly."

"Shopkeeper Zhao? The one connected to the Chaos Blade Sect in the inner city?" The stubble-faced man's eyes lit up.

"Who else? Shopkeeper Zhao has connections in the inner city, and the guards working for him are vicious. Those Mo siblings are probably in for trouble..."

At those words, Mo Yun's hand paused slightly around his tea bowl, and a cold gleam flashed through his eyes.

He drew a deep breath, suppressed his anger, and walked over to the men, cupping his hands. "Uncles, I'd like to ask a few questions."

The men looked up. Seeing his servant's uniform and unfamiliar face, the thin, monkey-faced man asked, "You are...?"

"I'm Mo Yun, the boy you were just talking about who went to Crouching Tiger Manor to work as a servant," Mo Yun said.

The men froze, then their expressions turned awkward.

Anyone would feel uncomfortable being caught gossiping about someone behind his back.

"Young fellow, we were just chatting. Don't take it to heart..." The stubble-faced man gave a couple of dry chuckles.

Mo Yun waved a hand, took a dozen or so copper coins from inside his robe, and placed them on the table. "Don't misunderstand, gentlemen. I just want to ask a few questions. The tea is on me."

The men exchanged glances, their eyes brightening with smiles.

"Ask whatever you like, young fellow. We'll tell you everything we know!" The thin, monkey-faced man thumped his chest.

"I heard you say my second uncle mortgaged our old house to Shopkeeper Zhao?" Mo Yun asked.

"Right!" The thin man nodded. "I heard it happened last month. Mo Feng owed Shopkeeper Zhao a gambling debt and couldn't repay it, so he mortgaged the deed to your old house."

"How many people did Shopkeeper Zhao bring to clear out the house today?"

"I know that one!" the stubble-faced man chimed in. "I passed through Mo Family Village on my way here and happened to see them. Shopkeeper Zhao brought two guards. Both have combat training, and they look fierce!"

"What's the background of those two guards? Are they martial artists?"

"Martial artists?" The stubble-faced man paused, then smiled and shook his head. "You're overthinking it, young fellow. Martial artists aren't that easy to come by in the outer city. Those two guards have only practiced their fists and feet for a few years and know a handful of crude moves. They fight better than ordinary people, but they're nowhere near real martial artists."

Mo Yun felt greatly reassured.

"Thank you, gentlemen." He cupped his hands, returned to the carriage, and said to the driver, "Please hurry. Sorry for the trouble."

Seeing that something was wrong with his expression, the driver asked no questions. He flicked his whip, urging the horse on, and the carriage sped toward Mo Family Village.

Seated inside the carriage, Mo Yun's expression darkened.

He drew a deep breath, forced himself to calm down, and began analyzing the situation.

From what the men had told him, Shopkeeper Zhao had brought only two guards today.

Neither guard was a true martial artist. They were merely ordinary men who had practiced fighting for a few years.

He, on the other hand, had reached the beginner level of the Tiger-Crouching Fist and generated Force Energy. Although his inadequate mastery of the Tiger-Crouching Stance meant he had little Force Energy and could not sustain a prolonged fight, dealing with two ordinary men should pose little difficulty if he struck suddenly.

The key is to catch them off guard. I can't give them a chance to react...

Mo Yun looked around and frowned slightly. Everything he had just bought was in the carriage, but nothing would serve as a weapon.

I need to find something that feels right in my hand...

The carriage soon reached the entrance to Mo Family Village. Mo Yun told the driver to stop and wait, then jumped down and hurried toward the edge of the village.

There was a smithy at the village entrance, with several farming implements and blades displayed outside.

Mo Yun walked over and cupped his hands toward the old man working at the forge.

"Uncle Huang, I'd like to borrow something."

The old blacksmith looked up and recognized Mo Lin's son. He paused. "Little Yun? You're back?"

"Yes, it's my day off." Mo Yun nodded, his gaze passing over the blades before settling on a short iron ruler.

The ruler was about a foot long and black all over, a tool the smithy used for taking measurements.

"Uncle Huang, could I borrow this? I'll return it shortly."

Though puzzled, the old blacksmith asked no questions and waved a hand. "We're all neighbors. No need to be so polite. Go ahead and use it."

Mo Yun picked up the easily concealed iron ruler and hefted it. Its weight was just right.

He hid the iron ruler in his sleeve, turned, and hurried toward his home.