Desert Poplars

The fifteenth year of Tianyuan.

Desert poplars rooted themselves in the vast sea of sand.

The west wind rose, and yellow sand danced wildly.

The desert sunset hung like a wheel of fire in the sand-filled sky.

Then it gradually vanished into the dusk, bearing a breathtaking beauty.

The yellow sand slowly settled, and the inn stood quietly in the sunset.

Eagles cried beyond the desert dunes, lending the twilight a touch more desolation.

Yet inside the little inn sat more than a dozen burly men.

At their center was a young man in his twenties.

He reclined leisurely on a lounge chair, with a servant beside him waving a large palm-leaf fan.

"Creeeak."

The door swung open, and wind poured in.

"Sir, stopping for a rest or staying the night?" The waiter came over.

"A bowl of plain noodles, a meat dish, and two pots of wine."

After speaking, the man patted the ox behind him.

"Bring my ox the same dishes, and a pot of wine too."

"An ox?"

The waiter froze.

Riding an ox in the desert? Now that was a strange sight.

And it could drink wine too?

The waiter looked the customer over, suspecting the man was making a fool of him.

The man wore a bamboo hat with its veil lowered, exposing only half his face.

His left sleeve hung empty, and he held a bamboo cane in his hand.

The little red cord tied to it stood out sharply.

The waiter pressed his lips together and hesitated.

"Please come inside, sir."

The young man surrounded by the burly men glanced sidelong at the newcomer, then paid him no further attention.

The men around him, however, looked wary, though they noticed he was missing an arm.

His eyes were closed, and he held a bamboo cane.

Blind, and missing an arm to boot.

Their vigilance instinctively eased considerably.

Before long, everything Blind Man had ordered was on the table.

Blind Man drank in great gulps and ate with relish, paying no heed to anyone else.

Then he tackled the steaming bowl of noodle soup.

Once he had eaten and drunk his fill, he slumped in his seat and belched.

The young man held a toothpick between his lips and watched Blind Man, apparently finding him amusing.

Though blind, he seemed little different from an ordinary person.

"Hey, are you really blind?"

The young man could not resist asking.

Blind Man nodded. "Judging by your voice, young master, you must be a handsome young talent from a wealthy family."

"You certainly have a way with words for a blind man."

The young man smiled. As the old saying went, you did not strike a smiling face.

True or false, pleasant words were always welcome.

"You're a local, young master. There's something I'd like to ask you."

"Ask away," the young man said.

"Do you know someone named Qimu De? He's the son of a local foreign merchant.

"He relies on his family's influence to run amok.

"He's committed plenty of outrageous acts. This time, he even raped and murdered a married woman, then dumped her body in the wilderness.

"The affair blew up, and the authorities put out a warrant for him.

"So his father bribed the officials and sent him away to lie low for a while."

As Blind Man spoke unhurriedly, the young man's expression grew darker and darker.

"Heh. What do you want with him?" the young man asked coldly.

The burly men around him gripped their weapons, fixing Blind Man with fierce stares.

Yet Blind Man seemed entirely unaware of the change in the atmosphere and continued speaking.

"I'm ashamed to say I'm an unregistered Bounty Hunter. I have no official identification token, so I can only take private commissions.

"This time, someone hired me to take his life."

The moment he finished, the dozen-odd burly men slammed their hands on the tables and rose.

They drew their weapons.

The young man crossed his legs, utterly arrogant.

"What a coincidence. I'm the Qimu De you're looking for. But whether you can take my life depends on what you're capable of."

Blind Man smiled faintly. "Thank you. My eyes make things rather inconvenient, so your admitting it yourself has saved me a great deal of trouble."

The young man grinned, revealing a set of gleaming white teeth, but his words were vicious.

"Tear off his other arm too."

The waiter had just finished feeding the ox and came in from outside.

He wiped his greasy hands across his chest, making the front of his clothes shine even more with oil.

"Sir..."

Wind and sand surged in behind him, and the waiter instinctively closed his eyes.

The wind had been a spring breeze, but as it blew in from behind them, it became a blade.

Flashes of blades and shadows of swords rose with the wind.

It was as though a knife lay hidden within it.

The air carried a trace of cool wind, a trace of blood, and a trace of wine's mellow fragrance.

The waiter opened his eyes. His cheek felt wet, and he touched it.

Blood?

The waiter frowned and looked around the inn in confusion.

Where was everyone? Why were they all sprawled on the floor?

Half a second later, the waiter let out a shriek.

He dropped onto his backside, wetness spreading between his legs.

Blind Man hauled the stupefied Qimu De to his feet and took the money from his own pocket. It seemed there was not enough.

So he reached inside Qimu De's clothes, fished around, and set the money on the table.

"The bill."

To control the Western Regions, Great Sui had established the Anbei Four Garrisons.

The passes along the routes were opened, new branches of the trade roads were continually developed, and foreign merchants poured in.

Trade in the Anbei Four Garrisons entered a period of prosperity, also spurring the growth of cities along the routes.

This actively promoted the recovery and development of the economy in the northwest.

At the same time, however, it also disturbed the peace of the Anbei Four Garrisons to some degree.

Foreign merchants, merchants from the Central Plains, mule caravans, and fugitives mingled together, dragons and fish in the same waters, and public order grew increasingly unstable.

"Moo."

Li Ping'an led Old Ox along at a leisurely pace.

A burlap sack hung over Old Ox's back, twitching now and then.

Something alive seemed to be inside.

Li Ping'an uncorked his wineskin and took a deep swig of strong liquor.

He had arrived in the Anbei Four Garrisons five months earlier.

After that battle in the snow at Luoshui City, Li Ping'an had faced relentless attempts on his life.

Eventually, Li Ping'an had come to the Anbei Four Garrisons.

Though nominally under Great Sui's control, the Anbei Four Garrisons were actually controlled by local warlords and foreign merchants.

Gambling dens, taverns, and brothels were the most thriving businesses here.

Two sultry women in revealing clothes beckoned to Li Ping'an, their figures enticing.

They looked as though they had wrapped themselves in nothing more than two scraps of cloth.

"Oh, Young Master Li, back again?"

The sultry women pressed against Li Ping'an from either side, filling his arms with warm softness.

Carrying the burlap sack, Li Ping'an discreetly slipped free of their embrace and headed straight for the brothel's first basement level.

"Whew."

A woman in sheer pink gauze sat with her legs crossed, utterly unconcerned.

A generous expanse of flesh was exposed, but she did not care.

"What a shame. Such a handsome face, but both eyes are useless, and he only has one arm."

The woman sighed softly.

"I brought him. Alive."

Li Ping'an tossed the burlap sack onto the floor.

A muffled sound came from inside. It was Qimu De, whom Li Ping'an had captured alive.