Fang Jie climbed into the carriage, casually tossing his sword aside. He took the wine pouch from Mu Xiaoyao and took a large gulp. Outside, the large dog cracked its whip, urging the carriage to speed up and maintain distance from the Red Sleeve Pavilion's convoy. Undoubtedly, if he caught up and traveled with the Red Sleeve Pavilion, dealing with any dangers along the way would be much easier, especially since the Red Sleeve Pavilion had that eccentric old cripple.
Although this old cripple had never displayed any extraordinary strength, Fang Jie was certain that an old man who could single-handedly protect the entire Red Sleeve Pavilion was no pushover. After all, with so many beautiful women in the Red Sleeve Pavilion, how could he not have attracted many suitors over the years?
Since the old cripple could withstand everything, he was definitely not as weak as he appeared.
"Now I'm certain he's from the Great Sui Dynasty."
Fang Jie took off the wine pouch and found his palms were slightly damp.
"If I'm not mistaken, something must have happened to Fan Gucheng."
Mu Xiaoyao stiffened, instinctively looking at Fang Jie. She saw that this young man, who had never shown sadness before, had tears welling in his eyes. This was the first time Mu Xiaoyao had seen Fang Jie like this in fifteen years.
"Perhaps… you're just overthinking things."
She could only offer comfort.
Fang Jie slowly shook his head, his voice slightly hoarse: "Even I don't know my own background, so the court using such a powerful assassin couldn't possibly be in cahoots with those who were chasing us before. Moreover, the Sui Dynasty has always been arrogant and powerful towards foreign powers; it's impossible for them to have any collusion with other countries because of someone as insignificant as me. So, the deduction becomes much simpler… As I said before, the reason the court killed me is definitely because someone doesn't want me to enter the Martial Arts Academy."
"I don't have any secrets that would frighten them. If they had to say they did, it would be very easy to find out." Thinking of Emperor Xiaozong, those men who died in Fangu that night were likely sent by the court. The reason they wanted to kill me was because the court was investigating embezzlement cases among the border troops. To escape punishment, Emperor Xiaozong shifted the blame onto me, trying to clear his own name with my death. But with those men dead, Emperor Xiaozong would have no way to explain himself to the court.
"What I'm thinking about now is, what method did Emperor Xiaozong use to cover this up? Too many people knew about it that day, all the border soldiers knew… To hide it… unless…"
He paused, seemingly unwilling to continue.
"Unless he killed all the border soldiers and then fabricated a pretext of war? And you're the only surviving member of the border troops, so there must be someone in the court who doesn't want you to come to the capital. To cover up such a large case is not something a single department like the Ministry of War can do. I say, how could you be so unlucky? I can only say to you, 'May the heavens grant you boundless blessings.'"
These words weren't spoken by Mu Xiaoyao, nor by Daquan.
They were spoken by Xiang Qingniu. Fang Jie was taken aback, looking at the fat Taoist who had lifted the curtain and climbed into the carriage.
"When did you get in?"
Fang Jie asked, somewhat surprised.
Xiang Qingniu rubbed his nose smugly and said, "I told you long ago, I'm a very, very high-level expert. Don't even mention a beat-up carriage like yours, with two guards who are barely considered average experts. Even if I wanted to enter the most heavily guarded place in the world, no one could stop me."
"Of course..."
Xiang Qingniu sat down, unceremoniously pulling out some food and holding it to his chest: "It's because I'm so hungry I can't stand it anymore, I feel weak and can't ride a horse. Although I'm a top-tier expert, when I'm hungry, my whole body trembles and I feel completely powerless, even my hands and feet shake. It's an unbearable feeling." "It's so strong. So when I feel hungry, I have to eat. So... I didn't eavesdrop on your conversation, I came here to find something to eat."
Fang Jie was silent for a moment, then took the slightly greasy, now cold roasted pheasant leg from his hand, and took a small paper packet from his pocket, handing it to Xiang Qingniu: "Next time you feel this way, eat two of these."
"Candy?"
Xiang Qingniu opened the packet and couldn't help but purse his lips: "Can't you be less stingy? Would you be heartbroken if I ate one of your pheasant legs?"
"This works."
Fang Jie was too lazy to explain anything.
Xiang Qingniu looked at Fang Jie suspiciously. He disliked sticky candy the most, but his hands and feet began to tremble, and the feeling of panic in his heart grew stronger, so he had to grab a handful and stuff them into his mouth. He wanted to continue eating, but Fang Jie stopped him, rewrapped the packet, and stuffed it back into his pocket.
"That's enough, just sit quietly for a while and you'll be fine."
Xiang Qingniu was taken aback, and couldn't help but ask in surprise, "You know medicine?"
"No, but I happen to know what's wrong with you. A long, long time ago, I had this problem too, and eating a few candies cured it."
"What kind of illness is this?"
"It's a bit difficult to explain to you, but simply put, you can think of it as a stomach deficiency of sugar."
Fang Jie pointed to the large dog outside the car, then to Mu Xiaoyao, and said, "He has a stomach deficiency of meat, she has a stomach deficiency of alcohol... Neither is a serious illness, but it's quite uncomfortable when it flares up."
After a while, Xiang Qingniu was suddenly pleasantly surprised to find that the symptoms of weakness in his limbs and anxiety had really disappeared. This immediately made him admire Fang Jie more, and even more so, he was overjoyed.
"From now on, you don't need to put everything in your mouth. Just carry a bag of candy with you, and it will work."
Fang Jie said calmly. "How can I thank you? How about I give you an easy pass in the Martial Arts Academy entrance exam?"
"Don't give me that... Tell me who those assassins were."
"That... is a secret... Hey, don't steal my candy, I'll tell you, okay?"
...
...
Fenglin Ferry.
This is the largest ferry crossing on the route from Xiangcheng to the capital. Crossing the Xiang River at Fenglin Ferry marks the exit from Longxi County and entry into Hedong County. The Xiang River is one of the five most famous rivers of the Sui Dynasty, and the largest river in western Sui. Even at its narrowest point, it's a hundred zhang wide. The section of the Xiang River at Fenglin Ferry is the calmest part of the river, with dozens of ferries passing through daily.
On one side of the Fenglin Ferry pier is a reed bed, where many people fish every day. The Xiang River is full of large fish; with good luck, even in this crowded area, one can catch dozens a day. Legend has it that long ago, an old man caught a giant fish, over ten meters long, near this pier. The fish, named Ironhead, possessed immense strength and somehow took the hook, pulling the old man from the bank into the water.
This Ironhead fish is a real creature; many boatmen have seen its back surfacing. If they encountered one, they would throw down a pig's head, a must-have for river travelers, as an offering to the river god.
However, the story has been passed down for countless years. Originally, the giant fish was the main character, but somehow the tale changed. The most popular version now tells of the old man single-handedly pulling the ten-meter-long Ironhead fish out of the river.
The Ironhead fish was incredibly ferocious, its mouth full of steel teeth ready to pounce. The old man pointed a golden light at the head of the large fish, shouting, "You wicked beast! Submit to the law!"
Then the fish gradually shrank, eventually transforming into a human figure and prostrating itself at the old man's feet. The old man, remembering its inherent goodness, took it as his disciple and vanished without a trace.
This story was told so vividly that many children along the riverbank would gather soil to burn as incense, bowing and praying eastward, hoping that one day the old man would arrive on a cloud and take them as his disciples.
Legends are just legends, not to be taken literally.
However, these past few days, a middle-aged man has been fishing every day a few dozen meters from the pier. He wears a large straw hat and gray cloth, carrying a stool, a fish basket, and a fishing rod, sitting there all day. He doesn't seem to catch many fish each day, but his enthusiasm remains undiminished.
A keen-eyed local ferryman noticed that since a middle-aged man had started fishing on the riverbank, the number of vendors near the pier had increased significantly, all unfamiliar faces. Some even discovered several rare warhorses tethered in a secluded spot in the woods behind the reeds.
The middle-aged man fishing didn't talk much. Occasionally, someone would approach, exchange a few polite words, and then leave. This caught the fishermen's attention. One approached him, and he was very friendly and polite, speaking with a distinct Beijing accent—a clear, distinct accent from the locals, known locally as "Beijing dialect."
His appearance was very ordinary; he would easily blend into a crowd. One might encounter hundreds of such people daily in a bustling city. Of medium build, neither fat nor thin, he had no beard, and even after sitting by the river for days, he hadn't tanned; his face was pale, almost sickly. With sword-like eyebrows, bright eyes, a high nose, and slightly thin lips, he must have been a very handsome young man in his youth.
Although now there are many wrinkles around his eyes and a hint of weariness always lingers in his eyes, he still possesses a masculine charm and appears calm and composed.
Every noon, someone would bring him food. The food wasn't extravagant or refined, just a few simple stir-fries, but there was always a fish, whether fried, stir-fried, or boiled.
And wine.
Most of the ferrymen were fond of wine, and the aroma could be smelled from afar. So, some people would shamelessly bring a piece of cured meat and approach with a forced smile to ask for a drink. He never refused, always nodding with a smile, and would then drink with the fishermen who had come across. Gradually, he made many friends at Maple Forest Ferry.
However, one thing was unsatisfying: he only wanted one pot of wine per meal. Whether ten people drank or he drank alone, once he finished that pot, he wouldn't drink anymore. Even if the fishermen offered him their own wine, he would never touch it.
So the fishermen finally reached a consensus… he was a good man, and also an oddball.
On the sixth day after this man appeared at Maple Forest Ferry, at noon, his family, as usual, brought him food and a pot of fine wine. The one bringing the food was a very young man, handsome with striking features and a robust build. Although dressed in simple clothes, he was impeccably clean and tidy. The only flaw was that this young man was blind in his right eye. A scar ran straight across his right eye, from his forehead to his chin.
Everyone thought this must be the middle-aged man's son. Therefore, everyone said that this young man was very filial, coming to bring his father food every day without fail.
The one-eyed young man put down the food box, bowed his head, and whispered a few words.
The middle-aged man fishing nodded slightly, then waved his hand. The young man immediately turned to leave, but was stopped by the middle-aged man.
The middle-aged man pointed to the hem of the young man's long robe and said calmly, "Tianbao...do you remember how you went blind?"
The young man named Tianbao trembled, his eyes filled with barely suppressed fear: "Reporting to the Commander, this humble servant dares not forget."
The middle-aged man grunted: "If you make such a low-level mistake again, I'll cut off your other eye. A person blind in both eyes is of no use to me."
The man, whose real name was Gao Tianbao, immediately bent down and concealed the corner of his brocade robe that was peeking out.
The brocade robe was beautiful, dark red, with faintly visible silver threads.
Even those in the capital's officialdom who only saw a corner of this robe would recognize it and feel a chill run down their spines.
A flying fish robe!