Once they entered the town and slowed down, Junior Brother Liang immediately dumped his burden.
"You have hands and feet. Walk yourself. Did you expect me to carry you on my back for the rest of my life?"
Hou Niao had grown used to the burly Liang's foul language. The man was certainly a brute, but he really had played no tricks while carrying him along the way. The ride had been as steady as a sedan chair, and Hou Niao had rather enjoyed it.
Was that how dignity worked? Once it had been trampled on, did another trampling hardly matter?
The four made their way to the only high ground in the settlement, a large earthen slope. A large building stood atop it, constructed entirely of bluestone. Its age was readily apparent from the mottled traces of weathering on its stone walls. There were even blade cuts, axe marks, and blackened traces of burning. Who knew what it had been through?
The fat man spoke. "Wait here for us. There's a pond below Tiger Hill. Wash yourself thoroughly, and don't dirty the Sword Abode!
"Don't think about escaping. I've already placed a Divine Ability on you. You won't get away!"
Hou Niao continued to express his resistance through silence. He had worked it out: judging by how these people behaved, they probably could not be bothered to place any restrictions on him. They were merely frightening him. In a place like this, where the common people were all their loyal supporters, where could he run?
Nor did he want to run. He intended to put down roots here. Sooner or later, he would sort these blockheads out!
The four left immediately afterward, off to do who knew what, abandoning him here alone. They certainly had few worries. To him, that was a sorrow: his strength was so insignificant that they could not even imagine what harm he might cause.
After they left, Hou Niao entered the so-called Sword Abode, inwardly grumbling. Such a grand, lofty name, and it doesn't even have a front gate. Just a big stone arch!
It was just like Tiger Hill, which was nothing more than a large earthen slope. They certainly knew how to gild their own faces.
The Sword Abode had three floors. The first was a hall, several dozen zhang in both length and width. There was nothing inside except countless sword marks on the interior stone walls.
The second floor had several rooms, all empty. The third floor had several rooms, empty as well. No thieves would come here. Apart from big stones, there were only more big stones!
Leaving the Sword Abode, he washed himself meticulously in the pond below Tiger Hill and threw away his clothes while he was at it. Stained with that muck, they were beyond washing clean. Besides, although he had not been pampered growing up, washing clothes was what he hated most in life. It was a matter of principle.
As for what he would wear, naturally, it was an outfit he had filched from the Sword Abode: white scholar's robes, which presumably belonged to the pale-faced scholar. Neat and proper on the outside, clean and bare underneath...
There was no need to stand on ceremony. Things had already reached this point; why fuss over all those petty niceties? With enough lice, another bite meant nothing; with enough debts, there was no need to worry.
It was nearly dusk. After being put through all that from morning until evening without a single grain of rice, he was truly rather hungry. There was not a damned thing in the Sword Abode, nor even a hint that anyone cooked there, so he wasted no effort on it and ambled around below Tiger Hill.
These people had threatened him against escaping, but they had not restricted his freedom. Surely there was nothing wrong with taking a look around?
Below the earthen slope, houses and other buildings grew more numerous. Cooking smoke curled upward; it was mealtime. There were no streets, and the homes were arranged quite haphazardly. Although he was unfamiliar with the place, following the scent of food would surely lead him somewhere he could fill his belly.
It was a large open-air noodle shop, bustling with customers. Big bowls of noodles, big platters of meat, big jugs of wine-even the chili oil on the tables came in basins. It suited him perfectly. This was the place.
He ordered his food, enough to fill a whole table. It was not that he was wasteful, but his current stage of cultivation was precisely the ravenous phase. Using pills would be wasteful, and drawing in spiritual energy would take too long. To replenish what his body consumed, he could only gorge himself on ordinary food.
As he ate, he listened to the surrounding diners' chatter and laughter, occasionally asking the proprietor a question or two. Gradually, the situation here became clearer.
The town was called Right River Town, which meant exactly what it said: to the right of the great river. But the river had long since dried up, leaving only a faintly discernible riverbed. Crops had long since been planted there too, making it impossible to recognize without careful observation, yet the name had remained in use.
Right River Town had a population of over a hundred thousand, little different from a small city in the Anhe Kingdom. But only some of them lived here permanently; more than half were scattered around the town. That rather suited the local customs. Calling them herdsmen who farmed would not be wrong.
What surprised him a little was that the so-called Sword Abode atop the earthen slope was this place's guardian, responsible for the entire town's safety. Calling its inhabitants the Demonic Sect cultivators stationed here would be more appropriate. As for whatever other civilian institutions or systems existed, he could not be bothered to ask just now. They had little to do with him.
He had come to infiltrate the Demonic Sect, not to become an official here.
There had been too little time for him to learn more than a little. Once he finished his meal, he called the proprietor over. "The bill!"
The proprietor was run off his feet, but the abacus in his head was perfectly clear, without the slightest error. "One tael and one mace of silver altogether. Since this is your first visit, I'll knock off the odd amount. Just one tael of silver."
Hou Niao smiled faintly and waved a grand hand. "Put it on the Sword Abode's tab! Settle it at the end of the month!"
He was not trying to cheat anyone. It was simply a matter of worldly possessions; he had no choice.
In White Poplar Forest, he had discarded all his baggage: his gold and silver, clothing, food, and other travel necessities. The only exceptions were the three Daoist books, talismans, and pills he kept on his person, but the burly man surnamed Liang had stripped him clean of those as well. It was clear that these Demonic Sect people were all experts at this.
Thus, he felt perfectly justified putting his meal on someone else's tab, without a twinge of guilt.
The proprietor smiled. "The Sword Abode doesn't have a shared account. They each pay their own way. So, which master's tab would you like it put on?"
Hou Niao did not hesitate. "Put it on Bear Liang's."
The proprietor chuckled. "Fourth Master Liang? Heh, Bear is certainly a distinctive name for him. But Fourth Master Liang hasn't settled his bill for three months. As for his credit..."
Hou Niao grew impatient. "Surely someone has good credit? The fat pig, the beanpole, the bookworm-put it on whoever has the best credit. Tell them Master Hou sent you. They'll know."
With that, regardless of whether the proprietor agreed, he strode away. Behind him, the proprietor offered a smile that never reached his eyes. "Take care, sir. Do come again?"
A waiter poked his head out behind him. "Boss, wasn't that fellow eating without paying?"
The proprietor was unconcerned. "He was, but he did come from the Sword Abode. Are you really afraid those masters won't pay? The longer they owe us, the more generous their tip when they settle up."
Having started, Hou Niao might as well go all the way. One purchase on credit or several-it was all credit. He visited a ready-made clothing shop and picked fine materials to outfit himself with two changes of clothes, then went to a smithy to buy a saber, and bought a heap of snacks and dried meat... Unfortunately, he found no cultivation workshop.
When he ambled back to the Sword Abode, the four men in the hall simply stared at him.
The burly Liang asked directly, "Whose tab did you put it on?"
Hou Niao acted as though nothing had happened. "What difference does it make whose tab it is? Back in our Anhe, I never paid for my meals! Letting them feed me was doing them an honor!"