Five days later, Zhang Qingyuan and Zhang Junbao had crossed the Yellow River and entered Bingzhou.
While crossing the Yellow River, Zhang Qingyuan could not help marveling that the Yellow River really was yellow.
Still, its water did not taste particularly special. As a child, he had always thought the Mother River would taste sweet and delicious.
The big Yellow River carp, on the other hand, tasted wonderful, with delicate texture and succulent flesh.
In Bingzhou, wheat-based foods dominated the local diet. Meals consisted of all kinds of noodles, along with vinegar. They tasted decent, and Zhang Junbao ate with relish. Zhang Qingyuan was not so fond of noodles, but he loved steamed buns and stuffed buns.
The two arrived at a town along the official road leading from Bingzhou to the Western Regions.
Bingzhou had thriving commerce, so its official roads extended in every direction and carried plenty of travelers.
This city was called Thousand Dragon City. The official road running from east to west led both to Chang'an in the Divine Province and straight to the Western Regions.
This great road had existed even before the Western Regions became part of Huaxia's territory. By now, it had been around for nearly two thousand years.
In Thousand Dragon City, the two found an inn and settled in.
The inn was called Yuelai, one of the largest inn chains in the martial arts world.
Evening came, but the inn, which should have been bustling, grew eerily quiet.
The two ordered two bowls of knife-cut noodles and a braised big Yellow River carp in the ground-floor dining hall.
They could never get tired of this fish.
"Brother Yuan, how much money do we have left?" Zhang Junbao suddenly asked.
"Senior Brother Miaoxin gave us fifty taels of silver when we left. There's still plenty. What do you want to buy?"
"Swords!" Zhang Junbao said excitedly. "When we entered the city just now, I heard someone say there's a Yinghui Sword-Forging Manor shop in the north of the city."
"Oh, right!"
Zhang Qingyuan remembered. A year ago, when they first killed people and looted their equipment, the gang's leader had carried a sword forged by Yinghui Sword-Forging Manor. The iron sword had been made of excellent material; its edge had only curled a little after their fight with the Wang Family.
He remembered a line engraved on the sword saying its suggested retail price was five taels of silver. Zhang Qingyuan had even called them an honest business.
The brothers' martial power had increased tremendously. Surely they ought to have a fine sword each.
For people of the jianghu, weapons were like the watches people wore, the phones they carried, and the luxury cars they drove in later times-all symbols of status.
"Is it enough?" Zhang Junbao asked.
Zhang Qingyuan took out the silver, laid it on the table, and counted it. "Forty-four taels left. If we want two better ones, I'm afraid it won't be enough."
A little disappointed, Zhang Junbao said, "I even drew up two sword designs. I named one Zhenwu and the other Demon-Subduing."
"Having them made to your own designs, with good iron at that, will cost even more.
"If a master swordsmith actually forges them, the price starts at a thousand taels at least. They might even be on the market with no price anyone could put on them."
"Sigh!"
"Don't lose heart. We'll go take a look after dinner. If there's anything suitable, we can use it for now," Zhang Qingyuan comforted him.
"Mm."
"Keep that drawing safe for now. Once we have money, we'll go straight to a master swordsmith and have them custom-made."
"All right!"
The two slurped their noodles. Damn, knife-cut noodles could not be slurped.
Just as Zhang Qingyuan was wrestling with his bowl of knife-cut noodles, a shout suddenly came from the street outside. "Murder!"
Both looked outside at once and saw several swordsmen in matching clothes chasing down three men in hemp clothing.
The three men were soon overtaken, then killed in just a few exchanges by the swordsmen.
One of them said coldly, "This is what happens to those who secretly collude with Netherworld City!"
The people on either side of the street backed away, not daring to look them in the eye.
After killing the men, the swordsmen turned and left without even dealing with the corpses.
The two were watching intently when the waiter spoke in a Bingzhou accent. "Don't be scared. We've seen plenty of this sort of thing these past few months."
"Oh? Waiter, you know what's going on?" Zhang Junbao grew interested. He had felt something was wrong with the atmosphere ever since entering the city.
The waiter leaned lazily over the counter. "Those killers are disciples of the Mount Song Sword Sect. They arrived over two months ago, saying they were searching for people from Netherworld City.
"Netherworld City is thousands of li away from here. How would we have anyone from there?
"They started searching everywhere as soon as they arrived. There's nothing we can do.
"Especially those of us running inns. So many guests come and go every day. How would we know who's who?
"They often come and cause trouble at the inn. They've made it impossible for us to do business."
"People of the jianghu aren't allowed to harass ordinary citizens. Doesn't Six Doors do anything?" Zhang Qingyuan asked.
Jianghu affairs were settled within the jianghu, provided they did not affect the functioning of the nation.
Take the incident between Zhang Qingyuan, Zhang Junbao, and the Wang Family last year. Since they had decided to settle it by jianghu rules, the authorities stayed out of it.
But if someone reported it to the authorities and Six Doors stepped in, national law had to be used. That was the established convention.
People of the martial world generally handled things by jianghu rules, provided they did not hinder the nation's development or disrupt normal local affairs. Otherwise, Six Doors would intervene.
Of the Two Paths and Four Gates in the short jianghu ballad, Six Doors was one of the Four Gates.
As the sole institution bridging the nation and the jianghu, Six Doors could deal with offenders using national law, or handle offending jianghu people by jianghu rules.
What the Mount Song Sword Sect was doing undoubtedly affected ordinary people's daily lives. By rights, Six Doors should have issued a warning.
"The local Six Doors head constable died at the start of the year. The new one hasn't arrived yet. With just those constables, they can't win a fight," the waiter explained helplessly.
Fine, then.
Zhang Qingyuan exchanged a glance with him. He had no intention of getting involved.
It was the same old line: do whatever you like, just do not let it sweep us up.
Zhang Junbao frowned. He had some inclination to act, but held himself back.
Zhang Qingyuan saw what he was thinking and smiled inwardly.
Brother Bao's demon-subduing temper had yet to take shape. He did not yet have the disposition to spend a sixty-year cycle subduing demons.
He was still in his growing phase, so he was not that hot-tempered.
Once he reached the stage of Zhang the Sloppy, with fully perfected martial arts and no equal under heaven...
Damn, I don't care whether you're righteous or evil. If you bully the common people and do something that displeases this humble Daoist, this humble Daoist is stepping in.
Got a problem?
Then swallow it.
I'm already the Demon-Subduing Patriarch, Great Emperor Zhenwu. What's wrong with doing things for the common people?
Otherwise, would the Ming Cult and the six great sects in the Heaven Sword and Dragon Saber world have behaved so well before Zhang Sanfeng turned ninety?
They only dared run wild after Zhang Sanfeng was ninety, thinking he was too old to lift a sword anymore. They even dared drive Zhang Cuishan to his death.
They were merely taking advantage of an old man over a hundred whose temper had mellowed after years of cultivating the Dao. If he had still had the temper of his sixties or seventies, he really could have made sure those who came up the mountain never got back down. Would you believe it?
When analyzing Zhang Junbao across different worlds, Zhang Qingyuan had roughly divided the various Zhang Junbaos into four stages.
The childhood stage, the growing stage, the sloppy stage, and the perfected master stage.
The childhood stage began just after he left Shaolin. Having experienced his master's death, Zhang Junbao had a very meek disposition during this period. He spent his days in a daze and would not fight back even when bullied. Put plainly, he was a little bottom.
The growing stage began when he went to Wudang and entered secluded cultivation. One day, enlightenment struck, he created martial arts, and he began engaging with society in earnest.
At this point, he not only learned principles from scriptures but also gathered experience from society.
The sloppy stage came in his late thirties, nearing forty. His martial arts had reached perfection, and he had formed his own judgments of good and evil. He began roaming the jianghu, taking a Zhenwu Sword everywhere to reason with people.
The perfected master stage came after ninety. As he grew older, his temper gradually mellowed, and he became conscious of maintaining his public image. He cultivated his character and temperament at Wudang and began cultivating immortality.
But because of Zhang Qingyuan, this world's Zhang Junbao had spent less than half a year in the childhood stage before entering the growing stage.
Which Zhang Junbao in the other worlds had not needed a dozen or more years of seeking enlightenment on Mount Wudang before escaping that shadow?
This world's Zhang Junbao was fortunate,
but this world's martial community was unfortunate.
Because Zhang Junbao's childhood stage had been so short, and judging by things, his growing stage would not last very long either.
So the sloppy stage would arrive early.
That Zhenwu Sword would appear in the jianghu a dozen or more years earlier than those of the other worlds' Zhang the Sloppys.
The question was whether his perfected master stage would arrive according to age. If it did, and he reached that stage at ninety...
Hmm...
He's nineteen now.
That means more than one sixty-year cycle of subduing demons!
After dinner, the brothers went to Yinghui Sword Pavilion in the north of the city to buy swords.
When they reached the sword pavilion, fortunately, it had not closed.
To ensure they could use them longer, Zhang Qingyuan steeled himself and bought two fine swords at fifteen taels of silver each.
He did the sums. They still had a dozen or so taels left, enough to cover their expenses until they reached Pure Yang Daoist Palace.
Both swords were made of fine iron that a swordsmith had hammered over ten thousand times.
The swords were three chi and one cun long. Patterns were engraved on their slender blades, and their silvery-white surfaces gleamed coldly.
They came with wooden scabbards wrapped in snakeskin.
Practical and attractive.
The brothers were like customers leaving a phone shop clutching new Huawei phones, unable to put their beloved swords down.
Clang! Out came a sword.
Swish! Back it went.
Clang! Out it came again.
Swish! Back it went once more.
Zhang Qingyuan was not as excited as Zhang Junbao. He felt the material was inferior to that of the five-thousand-yuan Longquan sword he had given a client in his previous life.
That made sense. Just what kind of material had that one been made from in his previous life?
They headed back. Just as they reached the center of the city, they heard cries from ahead. This time, Zhang Junbao could not turn a blind eye.
"Brother?" Zhang Junbao looked at Zhang Qingyuan.
Zhang Qingyuan licked the corner of his lips. "Let's go!"