Staggering Journey (8)

The sun sank in the west. A great river rolled broad with waves, and the wind carried the scent of wildflowers along both banks.

And Zhang Xing had run into a serious problem.

A full eight days had passed since the killing by trampling at dawn. Over those eight days, he had learned his lesson, hiding by day and traveling by night, never approaching villages or markets of his own accord. The sole time he had bought cornmeal buns at a market along the way, he had first hidden Du Meng's body, gone alone, and then hurried back.

Thanks to the Compass, the journey had remained fairly smooth despite its hardships-until he reached this great river today.

The great river surged without cease. Judged by the standards of his other world, it was more than several hundred meters wide. In this world of familiar yet altered things, it seemed unquestionably to correspond to the Yellow River, yet also seemed broader, with a greater volume of water... Of course, the transmigrator did not particularly care. With beings such as the Mountain-Splitting Lord and the Sea-Averting Lord around, even if there really were some vaguely recognizable connections, the geography might well have ended up entirely different.

Whatever the case, he certainly had no ability to cross a river on a single reed.

As for the "golden Compass" in his hand, its response was peculiar too. His intention at this moment was perfectly clear: he wanted to take Du Meng home, to that blasted Red Mountain. Yet the Compass drooped whenever he left the riverbank, as though it meant for him to wait here beside the river indefinitely.

Left with no alternative, this quintessential stranger in a strange land could only wait. But he had made up his mind to wait just one day. If nothing changed by this time tomorrow, he would follow the river in search of a fishing village or ferry crossing, explain the situation frankly, and see whether anyone would take him across. For today, however, he could only carry Du Meng's corpse to the lone large tree on the nearby embankment, make it his resting place, and wait in bewilderment at this world.

Of course, there were plenty of things that bewildered him.

He did not know how far he had actually traveled these past days, nor where exactly Red Mountain was. He did not even know whether Red Mountain was a mountain, an administrative division, or a geographical region.

Nor was he certain he could cross the river. If he crossed, could he deliver the body? And once he delivered it, he did not know how he should face the man's family.

But for now, the conviction that he must deliver Du Meng's body to Red Mountain seemed to be the only thing sustaining him, allowing him to ignore and evade certain things.

By evening, the sun gradually sank westward and slowly changed color. Boats grew fewer on the river, the water rippled without cease, and the scenery was breathtaking.

As a transmigrator, this ought to have been the perfect time to plagiarize a poem; perhaps it might even trigger some fortuitous encounter. Yet faced with this magnificent view, Zhang Xing felt only irritated. He simply took out an unleavened cornmeal bun and began chewing slowly and deliberately... Whatever happened, he still had to eat.

Just as he began eating his second bun, two large ferries coming downstream appeared in his field of vision and suddenly made a rather dubious approach toward his stretch of the river.

As they drew closer, he could see more clearly.

Though the people aboard were all dressed as civilians, every one of them carried weapons and looked lean and formidable. There were also dozens of sturdy horses on the decks. Considering that they were landing as night approached, these were presumably the so-called martial-world folk of this world.

This also dispelled Zhang Xing's intention to approach them and ask for passage, even though they might very well be the reason the Compass had pointed here and refused to budge.

After all, he did not want another village bloodbath or another killing on the road.

But though Zhang Xing did not go to join the commotion, they came to him instead-the two boats departed after unloading their men and horses. The dozens of riders formed up on the embankment in the setting sun and were just about to set off when suddenly they all dismounted and gathered around the large tree.

Zhang Xing froze for a moment, then could only keep his head down and continue diligently gnawing his bun.

There was nothing he could do-quite literally nothing. It was not yet dark, and the riverside embankment offered a clear view. There were dozens of them, equipped with boats, horses, swords, and sabers, and every one of them was visibly formidable. Whatever they had come for, could he really evade them with his paltry True Qi cultivation?

"You there!"

The riders left their horses and surged forward with hands on their swords, yet remained well disciplined. Not one of the dozens spoke as they formed a circle on the embankment around the tree against which Zhang Xing leaned. Only then did three men step out from the crowd. One, a burly, purple-faced man in close-fitting clothes, held a riding crop and spoke sternly. "My brother Xu just told me the person lying beside you is probably dead. Is that right?"

"Yes." Holding his bun, Zhang Xing nodded calmly.

"You're rather composed." The purple-faced man put his hands behind his back and immediately relaxed somewhat.

"I've done nothing to trouble my conscience. Why shouldn't I be composed?" Zhang Xing countered on the spot.

"Then let me ask you something else. Who is the dead man to you? Why are you traveling with a corpse?" The burly man raised his brows slightly and continued his questions. "And why are you covered in bloodstains?"

"Isn't your brother Xu sharp-eyed and good at guessing?" After surviving two deadly fights, Zhang Xing was instead more at ease. If these people truly meant to make trouble without cause, no amount of caution would do him any good. If they really possessed some of that supposed martial-world generosity of spirit, he might as well hold his head high and remain composed. "Why not let him guess?"

The burly man was just about to speak when a young man at his side, dressed in plain cloth, with an almost boyish face but an enormous frame, spoke first with a smile:

"He was your comrade in the army, wasn't he? You're both wearing the same military boots, and though your clothes are covered in soot and dust, they're clearly the style of army-issued cloth uniforms too... In this place, at this time, you must be routed soldiers retreating from Fallen Dragon Shoal."

Zhang Xing looked him over briefly, then nodded outright. "Yes."

"They all say Fallen Dragon Shoal was a defeat, but no one knows how bad a defeat it was." The oldest of the three, who had yet to speak-a middle-aged scholar with a faint air of distinction-finally stroked his beard and spoke as well. "May I presume to ask how many of the two hundred thousand elite troops remain?"

"What would I know about two hundred thousand elite troops? All I know is that a squad in the Central Rampart Army had fifty regular soldiers." How could Zhang Xing know how disastrous the defeat had been? But that did not stop him from speaking nothing but the plain truth. "After I woke from my injuries, this brother beside me told me our squad had fought for twenty-three days straight. When we fell back in defeat, only seventeen remained. After another five days on the run, there were only two of us left. We finally endured the rains in the mountains and were about to reach the flatlands of Dengzhou, but then a bloody fight left just one man and one corpse."

Disciplined though the surrounding riders were, even they could not help stirring slightly at this. The three men at their head, whether calculating, bold, or shrewd, all paused as well.

"You mean to take your comrade home?" After a moment, it was still the imposing purple-faced man who broke the silence. "Did you give him your word?"

"When we entered the mountains, an earthquake tore up the road. He carried me out to save my life. Now it's my turn to carry him back." Zhang Xing took another bite of his bun, acknowledging it.

"An earthquake?" The middle-aged scholar gave a cold laugh, though he did not seem to be asking a question.

"Where are you headed?" the imposing purple-faced man asked again.

"All I know is Red Mountain. I'll ask around when I get there." Seeing that their hostility had faded, Zhang Xing grew even more perfunctory.

"No wonder... The Hongshan people take this more seriously than anyone." The burly man sounded somewhat moved as well.

"Red Mountain is neither particularly close nor particularly far from here... You've already passed Dengzhou. This is the border of Jizhou. Once you cross the river into Hebei, you'll be in Wuyang Commandery. Cross Wuyang Commandery and enter Wuan Commandery, and you'll effectively be there." The capable-looking young man raised his brows slightly and interjected again. "But you have no horse and are only carrying him on foot. Even with some cultivation, even if your strength holds out, you'll still have to cross prefectures and counties and walk another fortnight before you reach the foot of Red Mountain. And Red Mountain itself stretches for hundreds of li. You'll still have to search the mountains for his home. Reckoning it that way, it might take the better part of a month to deliver him."

The imposing man beside him frowned slightly. How could he fail to understand his companion's hint? He was willing to help the man cross the river, but wanted him to ask before he would offer further help in the form of a packhorse.

That was altogether too petty!

"Only a fortnight?" Hearing this, Zhang Xing seemed not to have understood the hint at all. Instead, he looked relieved. "Thank you for that... These past days, I've either been fleeing for my life in a sorry state or trudging along with my head down. I have no idea how far I can travel each day, or how much road lies ahead. More than anything, I'm afraid he'll start to stink halfway there before I can deliver him... Really, as long as I can take him home and set my heart at ease, what's a fortnight or a month? Oh, right, my mind's gone numb. A month is still thirty days, isn't it?"

The capable-looking young man finally froze. He looked Zhang Xing up and down before slowly nodding. "Yes. An ordinary month is thirty days."

"You are a good man, sir!" The middle-aged scholar's gaze swept over the young man before returning to the man holding a bun beneath the tree. At last, he decided to end this impromptu riverside conversation. "Meeting beside the river is a bond of fate... Let's do this. Our boats have already gone back, so we can't take you across. We'll leave you a riding horse, a packhorse, and a little money and supplies for the journey. Tomorrow, head downstream to find a crossing and pay someone to ferry you over... May you soon find peace of heart."

Zhang Xing considered this, then finally stood and cupped his hands toward them. "My name is Zhang Xing, a man far from his native home. May I ask your names?"

The young man chuckled at this and seemed about to say something, but the middle-aged scholar raised a hand to stop him, then took the lead in returning the salute. "I am Li Shu, also a man far from home. Once you have taken your brother back, if you have nowhere to go, you may seek me out. Though I am obscure and unknown, throughout the prefectures of the Eastern Territories and Hebei, everyone knows the name of my brother, the Purple-Faced Heavenly King, Xiong Bonan. Find him, and you can find me."

At the end, the middle-aged scholar pointed to the imposing man.

That imposing man-the so-called Purple-Faced Heavenly King, Xiong Bonan-merely laughed heartily and cupped his hands in salute. "I am Xiong Bonan!"

As for the young man who remained, although he had plainly been rebuked twice in small ways, he paid it no mind whatsoever. He still smiled faintly and cupped his hands:

"My name is Xu Shiying. I can't compare with those two world-renowned heroes. I'm just a local bandit and ruffian from neighboring Caozhou. Everyone usually calls me Xu Dalang. Since Master Li and Brother Xiong were passing through my home, I was sent specially to escort them part of the way... If you make something of yourself in the future and wish to repay me, you can come find me at my home in Caozhou!"

These words seemed a little petty again, drawing another frown from Xiong Bonan. But as a transmigrator, Zhang Xing did not mind. Hearing that, though Li Shu had made the decision, this man was providing the horses and traveling money, he simply cupped his hands solemnly toward him once more and replied earnestly, "Xu Dalang of Caozhou. I'll remember."

And so, two spare horses were soon detached from the party of riders, along with a bundle of traveling money. Although Zhang Xing had originally intended to avoid trouble, he could hardly resist the martial-world generosity offered to him while he was a fish stranded in the shallows. He accepted without any shame, intending only to repay them as best he could once Du Meng's affairs were settled and he had found his footing in this world.

At this point, the affair seemed set to conclude as a fine tale of the martial world.

PS: Thanks to Glass Marble for the alliance leader donation... The twenty-first alliance leader.