They Still Had to Walk This Slope Themselves

On the day they were to escort the carts, Han Cheng and Zhao Hai had already arrived when the Inner Storehouse opened.

The driver counted sacks of rice up front while Zhao Hai braced a hand against the cart bed and stowed the planks and ropes they had prepared yesterday underneath it. Han Cheng tugged at the knots for him, making sure the ropes would not drag on the ground after a few steps, before going to check the last sack of salt.

"One sack short?" Zhao Hai asked.

"They're all here. Don't stand behind me calling out numbers. The moment I hear you speak, I forget where I was."

"I haven't called out anything yet."

Once both carts were loaded, the drivers needed only their word to set off. Han Cheng, however, had them take the carts toward the Small Kitchen first, with him and Zhao Hai walking alongside. They had agreed last night to eat breakfast before the carts left the sect, after which Chen An would check his Soul Power and make that small portion according to what he could manage.

The fires were already lit at the Small Kitchen. Uncle Zhou was serving hot congee out front, and Chen Chuan came out carrying freshly griddled scallion flatbreads. Both sides were lightly golden, but they were still soft when torn open, sending up the fragrance of scallions and flour together. Zhao Hai had originally said he was in a hurry and would eat a couple of bites standing up before leaving. Yet when he picked up his first piece and saw Han Cheng sit down, he pulled out a stool too.

"Weren't you in a hurry?" Fang Ming asked.

"The drivers are still outside drinking congee." Zhao Hai took a bite of flatbread. "They're not rushing. Why are you rushing for me?"

Han Cheng glanced at him without exposing how he had already moved a second piece of flatbread beside his bowl. A full breakfast would give them strength for the road. BB Popcorn could help Soul Power recover faster, but it could not replace a whole meal.

Shao Heng was at the table too. He was going to Gu Rong's to practice that morning. After eating, he got up, then turned back at the doorway to look at Han Cheng.

"Brought the planks?"

"Under the cart."

"The ropes?"

"If you don't leave now, I'll have you come pull it part of the way for me."

Shao Heng laughed and asked no more. Once he left, Chen An put down his half-finished bowl and went to check the fire by the stove. Uncle Zhou had finished serving breakfast and moved the steamers, pots, and basins aside, leaving him a clean little stove.

The Dragon-Transforming Pot floated up from his palm and turned into his usual wok. His first Yellow Soul Ring flashed, and a golden kernel of BB Corn dropped into the bottom of the wok. Zhao Hai stared at it, then looked at the bowl he had just emptied.

"That one kernel can be split between the two of us?"

"You've eaten it before," Fang Ming said. "Now you're pretending you've forgotten?"

"Before, all I cared about after eating was asking whether there was a second helping," Zhao Hai said. "Who had time to count kernels?"

Chen An held the wok handle and slowly rolled the kernel along the bottom. Uncle Zhou tended the fire beside him, adding only thin sticks at first to keep one side from burning too fiercely. The fragrance of grain gradually emerged. Only when Chen An saw the kernel swell with heat did he have the fire raised a little, then immediately lifted the wok clear of the flames.

With a soft pop, snow-white popcorn blossomed in the wok, spreading into a shallow layer in the blink of an eye.

Zhao Hai was about to reach for it, but Han Cheng brought over two clean little bowls first. Chen An divided it into two portions, neither looking very large; one for each of today's cart escorts was just right.

"Finish it here before you go," he said.

Han Cheng agreed. Unlike Fang Ming, he did not stuff it into his mouth handful after handful. He first picked up one piece to taste. As its crisp fragrance spread over his tongue, he smiled and said, "If you filled a big basin with this, I could munch on it all the way down the mountain."

"By the time you'd munched your way down the mountain, an hour would be up," Chen An said.

Zhao Hai was putting the last piece into his mouth. Hearing that, he immediately tipped in the crumbs in his palm as well. Han Cheng finished his portion too, returned the empty bowl to Uncle Zhou, then went outside to call the drivers to set off.

It did not take long to get from the Small Kitchen to the mountain gate. The two carts went downhill one behind the other. The first stretch was fairly level, and the wheels turned easily. Zhao Hai walked on the outer side while Han Cheng watched the cart bed from behind. Past the first bend, the mud beside the road grew darker, and the drivers slowed their steps.

"This is the spot," Han Cheng said.

The drainage ditch they had come to inspect yesterday was still there. If the wheels followed the old ruts, they could easily slide to one side. Zhao Hai pulled out the planks and laid them in the ditch first, while Han Cheng and the driver steadied the cart. The moment the front wheels pressed onto the planks, the cart gave a heavy jolt. Zhao Hai braced his shoulder against its edge, and Han Cheng sent out a surge of Soul Power, bringing the tilting frame upright again.

It was not a close brush with overturning, but neither did it pass with a light push. Both men's soles sank into the mud. Once the front cart was steady, they pulled out the planks and laid them down for the rear cart. The rear cart carried a lighter load and crossed smoothly, but Han Cheng still did not let go of the cart bed until all four wheels were on firm ground.

"If I'd known, I'd have wrapped my shoes too." Zhao Hai looked at his trouser cuffs.

"If you wrapped your shoes, Uncle Zhou would have to wash the cloth for you when we got back." Han Cheng shook the mud off the planks. "Come on. We can rest up ahead."

When the carts reached the resting spot, it had been less than half an hour since they ate the popcorn. The drivers inspected the axles while the two escorts sat in the shade of a tree, each circulating his Soul Power. Han Cheng had not spent much steadying the cart, but it was a fair amount more than walking on level ground would have taken; the same went for Zhao Hai. It was cool beside the road. Only when they truly settled down did their tense shoulders and backs slowly loosen.

Han Cheng recovered for a while before looking at Zhao Hai. The fellow had originally said a quarter of an hour's rest would be enough, yet now, with his eyes closed, he was more earnest about it than anyone. Han Cheng did not call to him, only watched the driver tighten the loosened ropes again. By their agreed departure time, he had more Soul Power than he normally would after a rest of the same length, so he rose and took the position on the outer side of the rear cart.

"You're going to take my spot too?" Zhao Hai opened his eyes.

"We'll take turns. I'll watch the cart for this stretch. You go up front."

Zhao Hai tested his Soul Power and did not argue. Earlier, when both of them had steadied the cart together, they had intended to leave one man watching over it for the later stretch while the other rested more. Now they had both recovered a little faster than expected, so they could follow their original plan of taking turns. When the carts reached the next slope, he picked up the planks, and Han Cheng was already beside the rear wheels. They worked together even more smoothly than they had discussed before setting off.

Seeing Han Cheng come over, the rear cart's driver pointed at a loose side rope. Han Cheng did not rush to use Soul Power. He first untied the rope end, threaded it through the hole beneath the cart bed, and pulled it tight again. Zhao Hai turned and called to him from up front, and he waved to signal that they could go. That little extra leeway from his recovery meant he did not have to chase after the cart while panting, and it left his hands free to fix this small problem on the spot.

The estate receiving the rice and salt was not far away. The drivers unloaded the goods, checked the number of sacks, and loaded the agreed vegetables for the return journey. By the time the carts entered the mountain road again, more than an hour had passed since they ate the popcorn. Zhao Hai looked at his palm, as though he might still find half a piece between his fingers.

"Stop looking," Han Cheng said. "You finished it ages ago."

"I know." Zhao Hai lowered his hand. "I just wanted to ask whether you still feel your Soul Power recovering faster."

"It helped on that earlier stretch. Walking now, things are back to normal."

The uphill return was harder than the descent. The vegetables on the carts were lighter, but they still had to lay planks over soft mud. Han Cheng steadied the cart first while Zhao Hai held it steady from behind with a rope. They no longer used their Soul Power together to support the frame as they had that morning. The wheels crossed the muddy ditch inch by inch. It was a little slower, but the vegetable baskets stayed secure on the cart.

By the time they reached the sect, lunch had already been underway for a while. Fang Ming was heading out with his bowl when he saw the two carts stop. He hurriedly shoveled down his last mouthful of rice and came over to take the vegetable baskets.

"You're finally back. Uncle Zhou said whoever escorted the carts has to wash his hands first. No food until they're clean."

"Help me carry a basket, and I'll get them washed sooner." Zhao Hai handed him the lightest one.

Han Cheng finished handing over the goods with the drivers, then put away the planks and ropes before following the others into the courtyard. The food Uncle Zhou had saved was keeping warm beside the stove, and the dishes had been reheated; not one was cold. When Han Cheng sat down, his shoulders, tense throughout the journey, finally relaxed.

Fang Ming had already delivered the vegetable baskets to Chen Chuan. He returned intending to ask whether those two planks had been useful, but when he saw the faint traces of mud that washing had not quite removed from Han Cheng's hand around his chopsticks, he swallowed his words and filled a bowl with rice for him first. Usually, Han Cheng was always giving up his seat for him. There was no need to make much noise over this little thing today.

Chen An came out of the kitchen, still holding the cloth he used to wipe the wok. "How was it?"

"We recovered a little faster during that stretch," Han Cheng answered honestly first. "Later, once an hour had passed, we had to rely on the planks and ourselves. The carts and vegetables all arrived. Nothing missing."

"And no food missing either." Uncle Zhou set the bowl in front of him. "Eat first. You two brought the carts back. Don't tell the mountain road all over again to your food."

Zhao Hai had already sat down and did not argue at that. With the hot meal he had wanted most throughout the journey truly before him, getting it into his mouth mattered far more than talking about how much Soul Power he had used in the muddy ditch.