Chapter Seventy-One: A Night’s Lodging

“Master, there’s another group of highway robbers ahead. This time, they don’t even have hoes—just branches in their hands. There are twenty or thirty of them.”
Even Wang Erhu, who was usually all grins and mischief, was now listless and weary, annoyance written all over his face.
“Disperse them… No, give them some provisions,” Zhao Hengyi, seated in the carriage, said with a sigh of resignation.
Along this journey, they could hardly go a few miles without running into such bands of would-be robbers blocking the road.
These robbers lacked all discernment. Zhao Hengyi’s party sported long knives at their waists, carried hand crossbows, and each had a scruffy horse to ride. Yet these robbers—armed only with branches and hoes—stood in the middle of the road to rob them…
It was less a robbery than a desperate plea for alms, begging passing merchants for a bit of food.
Of course, Zhao Hengyi had no doubt that if they encountered a lone traveler, these men—more beggar than bandit—would swarm him in an instant!
Though murder was likely beyond them, stripping a man of all his goods was certainly within their reach!
The drought spreading from the grasslands had already begun to affect the heartland of the Great Yan Empire. How much longer the barbarians’ cattle and sheep could survive, Zhao Hengyi did not know, but if rain did not fall within the next two months, the people of Jiangling Prefecture would surely collapse!
And this was in Jiangling, a region blessed with abundant rivers. In areas lacking water, the situation must be even more dire.
The carriage rolled onward. Through the window, Zhao Hengyi saw gaunt, ragged figures—adults and children alike, as thin as reeds—kneeling by the roadside, bowing in gratitude.
All Zhao Hengyi’s party had given was three loaves of bread, free of grass seeds and tree bark.
Inside the carriage, the atmosphere grew heavy. The six little girls huddled close to their elder sister and brother-in-law. The young ones had seen such scenes before; indeed, not long ago, they had been part of that desperate crowd themselves.
Thank heavens for their brother-in-law!
Having endured hunger, the six girls were far more mature than ordinary children, which is why they clung so tightly to Zhao Hengyi and always sided with him during quarrels between their sister and him.
But in this world, in the Great Yan Empire, were there not too many children forced into premature maturity?
The so-called official road was barely passable for carriages, badly neglected over the years, so Zhao Hengyi’s party traveled at a slow pace.

Night fell, and they were forced to camp in a cave beside the road. Though everyone brought ample food and equipment, making the journey feel less arduous and more like an adventure.
Another caravan, too, was lodging in the cave—a common resting place for travelers, so it wasn’t unusual.
The cave was vast, a natural limestone cavern, said to be so deep and winding that those who entered unprepared could never find their way out again.
The caravan, also bound for Jiangling City, settled far from Zhao Hengyi’s group. The sight of their armed guards and matching attire made them somewhat anxious.
Yet as soon as the caravan members saw the six little girls, Miao Xiaoyu, Sun Xiuying, and the other women, they relaxed, taking Zhao Hengyi’s party for a wealthy family on the road.
Once settled, Wang Erhu slipped out of the cave before nightfall and returned with three wild rabbits and two pheasants, adding meat to their evening meal.
The caravan members were astounded; this cave was right beside the road, frequented by travelers, many of whom carried bows. The local game had grown wary and scarce, making hunting extremely difficult.
That clever-faced youth had managed to catch so much in the time it took for a meal—he was clearly adept.
Yet the rest of Zhao Hengyi’s party showed no surprise, evidently accustomed to the boy’s skills.
Veteran merchants are sensitive and shrewd, seasoned by the world. The caravan members immediately perceived Zhao Hengyi as a man of great wealth, and their conversation grew soft and respectful.
“Brother, take my share of the wine as well,” Wang Erhu said, handing his wine pouch to his elder brother.
Since Zhao Hengyi had invented the technique for distilling spirits, strong liquor became a special privilege for the escort team—though drunkenness was strictly forbidden, and offenders faced severe punishment.
On this journey, the twenty guards carried only enough for a modest drink at day’s end—not a drop more.
“Keep it for yourself. The master’s generosity in allowing a sip to ease our fatigue is more than enough. No one is to drink more!”
The last words rang out loud and clear from Wang Dahu, the head of the guards. Everyone obeyed, savoring the wine with extra care.
The caravan, camped close by, naturally took notice as the rich aroma of spirits drifted through the cave. The two stewards exchanged perplexed glances.
Why did these people’s wine smell so fragrant? Was it a new product? There had been no prior rumors, nor had they ever seen such a thing!

The owner of this caravan was a wealthy wine merchant from Jiangling City, and the stewards had risen through the ranks, spending decades in the trade.
The mere aroma of the guards’ spirits was enough to catch the attention of these two experts.
Finally, one steward could not resist. Carrying a wine pouch, smiling amiably, he approached Wang Dahu, whom he had identified as the leader of the guards.
“Brother, I’m a lover of good wine myself. Yours smells so wonderful it’s awakened the craving in my belly. I have two pounds of Drunken Spring Breeze—would you trade me a taste?”
Drunken Spring Breeze was a famous wine in Jiangling, sold only at the finest inns. The steward’s offer of two pounds showed his sincerity.
Wang Dahu’s eyes flickered; not wishing to cause trouble, he had Wang Erhu trade an unopened pouch for the steward’s wine.
The steward uncorked the pouch, inhaled deeply, and his face filled with bliss.
Only now did Wang Dahu allow himself a slight smile.
The steward thanked them repeatedly, returning to his caravan with barely two ounces of strong spirit in hand.
“What a potent drink! Our house can’t brew anything like this,” he whispered to his companion. “Should I go back and ask where they got it? If we cultivate a relationship, we might learn the source.”
“No!” the other steward quickly shook his head. “Did you not see? When you approached, their hands all moved to their knife hilts! These men are not to be trifled with. Best to wait until we’re in Jiangling City before asking any questions.”
The steward who had traded for the wine nodded solemnly, saying no more, and the two men cautiously took turns sipping from Wang Erhu’s pouch. Their faces met, eyes wide in astonishment.
Just then, a commotion sounded outside the cave. A strange party, dressed in hunter’s garb and mounted on fine horses, arrived to lodge for the night.