At the sound of that voice, Cheng Duanjin sprang up from his stool. He hurriedly looked around before finally turning outside, where a woman in a blue cloth skirt stood with a silver hairpin tucked into her hair, dressed very simply.
Yet in her right hand she held a sheathed short saber. Clearly, she knew martial arts.
Beside her stood a thin old man with half-gray hair and slightly dark skin. His face was ruddy, however, and he looked quite healthy.
"Ah... ah... ah..." Cheng Duanjin pointed at the woman, unable to get a word out.
The woman was clearly the one who had just spoken. Seeing her approach, Cheng Duanjin rubbed his hands together and hurried forward to greet her with an embarrassed smile.
"Uncle Wang, what brings you here? The world outside is far too chaotic. It isn't suitable for an elderly man like you to be out and about. Whatever you need, just tell me, and I'll buy it and bring it back for you. Come, come, sit over here." Cheng Duanjin spoke to the old man with great solicitude, reaching out to help him as he did.
Everyone understood now. This old man was Uncle Wang, the blacksmith Cheng Duanjin had mentioned. Then this woman was evidently the Xiaolin he had spoken of?
Are these two childhood sweethearts? The difference is far too great. That was what everyone was thinking.
Cheng Duanjin was big and burly, while Xiaolin, though dressed in nothing but a plain cloth skirt, without any gold or silver ornaments, jewels, or jade, still possessed a pure, delicate beauty that could not be concealed.
A fresh flower stuck in cow dung! several guards thought to themselves.
But another thought also occurred to them. Judging by the young woman's attitude toward Cheng Duanjin, they