Central Province was the ancestral land of the Nine Provinces, the birthplace from which all civilization had sprung.
It had plentiful plains and abundant water.
They stopped and started along the way, seeing many people of the jianghu but very few fights or duels.
Over more than a month of travel, the two of them stayed on the main roads, stopping to rest at inns and tea stalls along the way.
On their donkeys' backs, the brothers were perfectly at ease, each occupied with his own business.
Zhang Qingyuan was practicing his cultivation. The two inner cultivation methods Zhang Junbao had created came from Daoism, one yin and one yang, complementing each other.
The Supreme Yin Meridian-Concentrating Divine Skill and the Supreme Yang Meridian-Concentrating Divine Skill represented two different philosophies, yin and yang, and followed very different meridian routes.
Cultivating them also produced two kinds of inner energy that felt different.
Supreme Yang inner energy was warm and hot. Cultivating it made his yang Qi flourish, and his dantian felt as warm as the sun.
Supreme Yin inner energy was cool and natural. Circulating it felt as refreshing as a cool breeze in the sweltering summer, or a couple of mouthfuls from an icy spring.
Beyond that, these two cultivation methods were actually compatible.
The two streams of inner energy circulated along their respective meridians within his body. Though they could not merge, neither interfered with the other. It was quite miraculous.
There was another point: Supreme Yang inner energy had high explosive power, while Supreme Yin inner energy had strong endurance.
Both cultivation methods had nine stages. Zhang Qingyuan focused on Supreme Yang inner energy and had already reached the fourth stage.
As for the Supreme Yin Meridian-Concentrating Divine Skill, he had only just finished its first stage.
The same went for Zhang Junbao. Their cultivation levels were about equal.
There was one advantage to practicing the inner cultivation methods Zhang Junbao had created. Apart from the first three stages, which required sitting cross-legged in meditation, later cultivation required no special meditative posture. Their inner energy would circulate automatically during everyday life.
Of course, when it circulated automatically, their inner energy did not grow as quickly as it did during dedicated meditation.
The donkeys' hooves clopped along as Zhang Junbao lay on his donkey's back, leafing through a scripture. He read very carefully, interpreting it word by word.
His understanding of Daoist scriptures was more accomplished than Zhang Qingyuan's.
It was not that Zhang Qingyuan did not read scriptures; he simply did not read them as closely as Zhang Junbao did.
Zhang Qingyuan only required himself to be able to recite them and understand their meaning. So long as it did not hinder his comprehension and cultivation, that was enough.
Zhang Junbao was different. He required himself to put what he learned into practice, to reach the point where any line of scripture would tell him which book and which page it came from.
He could even interpret anything he encountered through Daoist principles.
Because Zhang Junbao always felt that he was rather slow-witted, he always hoped to understand more of this world.
Back at Shaolin, he had only been responsible for fetching water and chopping wood, and grinning foolishly with his master.
With Zhang Qingyuan around, he simply buried himself in studying and researching martial arts.
He felt that he had too little experience, or rather, too little understanding of this world.
The Zhang Junbao of this world had not suffered as bitterly as the Zhang Junbao in the world of Heaven Sword. After Jueyuan died, that Zhang Junbao had roamed the world alone, witnessing the misery of the late Song and experiencing the brutality of the Yuan dynasty.
He had experienced the fickleness of the world, so he understood the warmth and coldness of human hearts.
But the Zhang Junbao here had not experienced so much, so he felt that everything in the world was beautiful.
Ever since leaving Sanhe Town, Zhang Junbao had become fond of asking questions, and Zhang Qingyuan was willing to answer them.
Of course, Zhang Qingyuan did not know that much either, so most of the time, he answered Zhang Junbao's questions according to his own understanding.
As his explanations accumulated, Zhang Junbao's way of thinking and habits of behavior were quietly taking on Zhang Qingyuan's shape.
A brass bell clattered, and the two youths raised their heads.
"Brother Yuan, an inn."
"I see it. Let's stay there."
They swung down from their donkeys and led them to the entrance.
It was a roadside inn out in the wilderness, beside the main road. Establishments like this always reminded Zhang Qingyuan of Sun Erniang from Water Margin and Tong Xiangyu from Dragon Gate Inn.
They tethered their donkeys outside and entered.
"Waiter, a pot of tea."
"Coming!"
The waiter hurried over enthusiastically with a teapot, wiped the table with a cloth, and poured two cups of tea. "Daoist masters, are you stopping for a meal or staying the night?"
"Staying the night. How much?"
"Not much. A superior room is sixty copper coins, a standard room is thirty, and a communal bed is only five," the waiter explained.
A superior room was a private room with a bathtub, a square dining table, soft bedding, and a full set of furnishings.
A standard room was also private, but had only a bed and a washbasin.
The communal bed was easy enough to understand: a large crowd crammed together, snoring, grinding their teeth, and farting.
None of that was the main problem. The most unbearable thing was that, when you woke up in the morning, you might well discover that your clothes, shoes, and money had all vanished together.
"Two standard rooms, then. Our luggage is on the donkeys outside. Help us bring it to the rooms. And bring us a stewed chicken and two stir-fried dishes," Zhang Qingyuan said.
Seeing that the two were decently dressed and could afford standard rooms, the waiter knew they were not short of money. Remembering the swamp eels caught just yesterday, he asked, "Daoist masters, we have some fresh eels in. Would you like to try them?"
Zhang Qingyuan looked at Zhang Junbao, whose craving stirred. "Let's have shredded eel noodles for our staple."
"Right away!"
The two sat down, and Zhang Qingyuan looked around.
Aside from them, two other tables were occupied.
Two people sat at one table. One was dressed as a young master and held a mottled bamboo fan; he looked wealthy at a glance. The other looked rather stern and appeared to be his guard.
At the other table sat a group of jianghu people carrying all manner of weapons, making them quite conspicuous.
Zhang Junbao took the initiative to pour tea and pushed a cup in front of Zhang Qingyuan. Suddenly, he asked, "Brother Yuan, I noticed that we've stayed at four or five inns, but you've never ordered lamb or pork. Why do you always eat fish, chicken, duck, and things like that?
"I remember you like pork. You ate plenty of lamb back in town too. Why did you stop eating it after we left?"
Zhang Junbao was puzzled. He had only noticed this after observing for quite some time.
"Now, this is something you don't understand." Zhang Qingyuan leaned toward Zhang Junbao and explained quietly, "Out in the wilderness, there are bound to be a few murderous establishments among the inns.
"And those places love one-off deals best.
"First, they knock the guests out with knockout drugs, then carry them to the kitchen and use their flesh to make buns.
"The guests' money naturally goes to the innkeepers, and they don't even have to buy meat. That's a business with a tiny investment and ten-thousandfold profits."
"So that's why." Zhang Junbao was somewhat alarmed. "There are such cruel dealings in this world."
"There are plenty of dealings filthier than that."
Looking enlightened, Zhang Junbao said in sudden understanding, "So that's why you never order meats that could lead to a misunderstanding whenever we stay at an inn."
"Exactly. Which of us could tell the difference between lamb, pork, and human flesh?"
Zhang Junbao took out two pairs of chopsticks and handed one to Zhang Qingyuan. "If I encounter them, I'll cut out the grass and pull up the roots."
"You can only be a great hero on a full stomach. Let's think about how to make money first."
"Have we spent it all?"
"Almost."
They had not worked for a month, and their meager savings had long since neared the bottom.
Before long, the stewed chicken, stir-fried dishes, and shredded eel noodles arrived, and the two dug in heartily.
As they ate, they saw a youth suddenly burst through the entrance, clutching a kitchen knife.
The moment he entered, his attention fixed on the young gentleman.
His eyes were bloodshot and veins bulged on his arms. Glaring viciously at the other man, he demanded, "Why did you kill them? They gave you the dog! Why did you kill them!"
The youth shouted as he charged toward the wealthy young master, who remained unconcerned, gently waving his folding fan and letting the youth come at him as though watching a show.
But before the youth could reach him, the guard who had remained silent beside the young master turned and swept out a palm. He swept the chopsticks from their holder into the air like steel needles, then thrust his palm sharply, sending them shooting out.
Zhang Junbao had been watching since the youth entered. Hearing that the wealthy young master had killed people, he frowned. When he saw the guard beside the young master strike, he could stand it no longer.
Before the chopsticks could pierce the youth's chest, another bunch flew from Zhang Junbao's hand, precisely snapping the incoming chopsticks.
The youth did not stop. Stepping on a table, he leaped into the air and lunged straight at the young master.
Seeing his chopsticks knocked away, the guard had no time to react before the youth was airborne, his kitchen knife about to chop down. He could only protect the young master first.
He shielded the young master behind him and swatted the youth's kitchen knife away.
The youth lay sprawled on the table, flailing his fists wildly and yelling.
"You wanted Xiaohua's dog, and she agreed to sell it to you for only five taels of silver! But you only gave her four taels and eight mace! Just two mace short! Just two mace of silver!
"Why did you kill them? Why did you kill them!"
The young master watched the youth as though watching a show-no, more like watching an ant.
He disdained speaking to someone like this mud, because it would sully his eyes.
He merely waved his folding fan gently and savored his fine wine.
The youth struggled. The guard pinning him down said, "Killing people? So we killed them. What of it?"
"Ah!" The youth's eyes were crimson. "Just because of two taels of silver?"
The guard patted his face and laughed. "Brat, forget two taels. Our young master could afford twenty, two hundred, even two thousand.
"That little bitch insisted on crossing our young master. We gave her face, and she wouldn't accept it."
Unable to resist, the youth struggled feebly, his voice choked. Helplessness and incomprehension mingled with his flowing tears as he sobbed, "Why did you kill them? Why did you kill them? Why did you kill them... you beasts."
"Ah, we weren't planning to kill her at first. If she'd let us sleep with her once, we would've forgiven her. But there was no helping it. She insisted on fighting back. That's how this world works. The weak are meat for the strong. You have to bear it."
"Why are you wasting words on him? Kill him," the young master said impatiently.
Listening to the youth's account and watching the young master's indifference, Zhang Junbao raised his head and looked at Zhang Qingyuan.
He smiled and said, "Brother Yuan, it's not that I hate evil like a mortal enemy."
"Mm."
"Your little brother just feels that unless I kill him, my Dao heart won't be clear."
"I understand."
The two turned at the same time, and Zhang Junbao stepped toward the young master.
Seeing Zhang Junbao approach, the guard realized that the bunch of chopsticks earlier had been his work.
The young master was no fool either. Naturally, he knew this was someone he could not afford to provoke.
He hastily backed away, terror appearing on his face, and pointed his fan at Zhang Junbao. "Y-you, what are you doing? What are you doing?
"I'm warning you, I'm the eldest young master of the Wang family of Luoyang! My father owns the Wang Family Bank! What are you doing?"
Zhang Junbao paused, murmuring, "The bank's eldest young master?"
"Scared now? If you know what's good for you, sit back down. Our well water needn't meddle with your river water."
The eldest young master thought Zhang Junbao feared his status,
but little did he expect
Zhang Junbao to raise his eyes and circulate his true Qi.
"Then all the more reason to kill you!"