Chapter 17: The Spineless One

Golden Sands Valley, southern slope—a newly constructed two-courtyard residence stood here. Though not yet complete in many aspects, both its materials and workmanship were of the finest quality, making it an impressive dwelling. In fact, it was the only house of its kind in the entire valley; the rest were mostly single-room wooden cottages.

Of course, the majority of the inhabitants lived in shacks. Even those wooden cottages were reserved for people of some standing.

“Chief, Golden Sands Valley is still in its infancy. Time has been short, and you may have to put up with some inconveniences for a while,” said Qian Wen, who followed closely behind Jiang Chen with a servile grin, bowing and scraping like a sycophant.

At these words, Jiang Chen paused at the courtyard gate and glanced down, taking in the whole of Golden Sands Valley. The view was as wide and sweeping as one could imagine.

“The location of this house is quite well chosen,” he remarked, before leading the way inside.

Upon hearing this, Qian Wen broke into an obsequious smile, delighted by the praise. Off to the side, however, Skinny Monkey and Bear Li, witnessing Qian Wen’s behavior, could not help feeling a hint of disdain—this man was truly spineless, with not a shred of backbone.

Skinny Monkey managed to conceal his thoughts, but Bear Li’s straightforward nature made his contempt obvious. Qian Wen, for his part, seemed oblivious.

“Stone, from now on, you’ll handle the household affairs. Pick a few sharp lads to help you,” Jiang Chen ordered as he took his seat at the head of the hall. “Skinny Monkey, set up a post at the foot of the southern slope. Unless it’s urgent, do not disturb my training.”

“Bear Li, starting today, you’ll take charge of the security team.”

Without hesitation, Jiang Chen began issuing orders, assigning his own people to various responsibilities throughout Golden Sands Valley, gradually establishing his authority.

Those who had come with Jiang Chen looked visibly pleased, while Qian Wen’s expression remained unreadable. He was not surprised by Jiang Chen’s consolidation of power. In fact, far from being angry, he felt a faint sense of relief. Jiang Chen, after all, fit the profile he’d gathered: a martial arts fanatic, single-minded in his pursuit of cultivation.

At that moment, Jiang Chen fixed his gaze on him. “Steward Qian, though the Golden Sands site is newly established, mining has already been underway for some time. When you return, bring me the relevant ledgers. I want to take a look.”

His tone was low and assured, brooking no argument.

“Yes, Chief,” Qian Wen replied at once, bowing deeply as their eyes met.

Jiang Chen nodded. A moment later, this brief but efficient meeting drew quietly to a close.

“Chief, do you really think Qian Wen will willingly hand over the ledgers?” Skinny Monkey asked, watching Qian Wen’s group depart. “Do you want me to keep an eye on him, in case he tries anything?”

Jiang Chen shook his head. “There’s no need. The accounts will be clean enough. Don’t forget what kind of man Qian Wen is. Faking a set of books is nothing to him—why else do you think Zhao Meng put him in this position? Surely not just because of his concubine of a sister.”

“I only want the ledgers so our people can learn the ropes and, incidentally, to put Qian Wen at ease,” Jiang Chen added with a faint smile, raising his teacup for a sip.

Skinny Monkey, seeming to understand, slipped away to oversee the post at the southern slope, gradually turning the area into Jiang Chen’s private domain.

Meanwhile, after descending from the southern slope into the river valley, Qian Wen turned back to look at the residence above, his heart bleeding. He’d overseen the construction of that house from the moment he arrived in Golden Sands Valley—every plant, every ornament had been chosen by his own hand, at great personal cost. According to the original plan, Third Master Zhao Meng was to take charge of the valley, but would not stay permanently; Qian Wen, as his trusted retainer, would be the real overseer. The house had been built for himself, crafted with utmost care. Never had he imagined he would lose it before spending even a single night within its walls. The pain was indescribable.

“Well, what’s done is done. It’s only a house,” he told himself, clutching at his aching chest and heading toward his temporary quarters. It seemed he would be living there for some time yet.

From that day onward, subtle changes began to ripple through Golden Sands Valley. Some people waited in quiet anticipation, others in silent dread. Yet for seven days straight, Jiang Chen never left the southern slope, and the restless atmosphere throughout the valley soon fell still once more, to the relief of many.

“Could it be that he truly has no intention of interfering in the valley’s affairs? That can’t be right.”

“No one can be indifferent to the allure of gold dust, and although he hails from Third Master Zhao Meng’s faction, if he truly wants to rise to the Fourth Master’s position, he’ll need to distance himself from the third master.”

“I’ve never met the big boss, but I doubt he’d want his two top lieutenants to quietly feather their nests together. Otherwise, the third master would have come himself, not sent this chief…”

In a corner of the river valley, a middle-aged man gazed up at the southern slope, his expression shifting between hope and anxiety. He wore plain clothes, his appearance neat and orderly—quite unlike most of the valley’s inhabitants.

Just then, a large figure called out to him from nearby. “Old Wang, what are you doing? The head steward’s convening a meeting.”

The gruff voice roused Wang Yuan from his thoughts. “Coming,” he replied, instantly swapping his troubled expression for a genial smile.

Wang Yuan was one of Qian Wen’s stewards, and, in a sense, also his confidant. Years ago, when Qian Wen got into trouble in Qinghe County, it was Wang Yuan who risked his life to tip him off, granting him a slim chance at survival. The two were, in truth, bound by life and death.

Later, when Qian Wen found refuge under Zhao Meng and rose to power, he brought Wang Yuan along, making him a steward in charge of the kitchens—a position with no small amount of profit.

“If only I could wait a bit longer, and somehow find a way to approach Chief Jiang… But he stays up on the southern slope all day—I don’t even have the chance.”

Chatting amiably with the burly man, Wang Yuan was already plotting his next move. He had intended to quietly guide Jiang Chen into discovering Qian Wen’s embezzlement of the valley’s gold, using Jiang Chen’s hand to rid himself of his old enemy and cleanse an ancient grudge. But Jiang Chen’s actions had upended his plans.

When news first broke that the River Marauders would be sending a chief to oversee Golden Sands Valley, Wang Yuan had been overjoyed, believing his chance had come. Now, it seemed there would be further twists and turns.

Yet Jiang Chen paid no heed to any of this. Of course, ignoring it didn’t mean he was unaware. He stood on the southern slope like a detached observer, watching every change in Golden Sands Valley. He simply chose not to act, for his own interests did not fully align with those of the River Marauders.

Having survived the trials of the apocalypse, he understood that every person had their use. If someone seemed useless, it only meant the right method had not been found. Even parasites like Qian Wen could be of value, so he was in no hurry to make his move.