Chapter 8: Nine Martial Ranks |
Before long, the rich aroma of porridge filled the house.
Yan Yu stopped feeding firewood into the stove and got up to serve the meal.
In the iron pot, husked grains, millet, and beans boiled together into a steaming hot mash. This kind of coarse, simple fare was something Li Yuan would never have imagined eating back in his old life. But now, he had no choice.
It tasted painfully bland to him, but for Yan Yu, who had never known real feasts, it was fine enough.
Once two bowls of food were on the table, she brought over another dish, a bowl of chopped radish pickles.
“Li Yuan,” she said, “I traded for these with Auntie Wang. They’re sour and salty. Good for the appetite.”
With that, Yan Yu picked out the best-looking piece of pickled radish and placed it in Li Yuan's bowl.
Li Yuan took a deep breath and began to eat. The meal was dry and rough, with barely a hint of oil. He quickly finished, then put down his chopsticks and flopped onto the bed to rest.
Yan Yu continued eating slowly. Suddenly, she glanced up at Li Yuan and asked, “Have you gotten stronger?”
Shaking her head, she insisted, “No, really, you look more muscular…and you’ve got more strength in your waist…” She trailed off, her cheeks coloring.
Li Yuan raised an eyebrow. “Why’re you blushing?”
“I asked Auntie Wang about her husband, and she bragged about how impressive he is in bed. But when I compare him to you…” Yan Yu’s face burned bright red. “Forget it,” she muttered.
Just then, commotion rose outside. Bowl and chopsticks in hand, Yan Yu edged over to the door. She leaned against the frame, one embroidered slipper already over the threshold, craning her neck to look outside.
“Hey, come look…”
“What’s wrong?”
“Come see.” She waved him over. “The bailiffs are taking Monk Pan away. They’re leading him out of the village.”
Li Yuan got up and walked to the door, peering out.
On the dirt path that ran through Little Ink Village, a shackled bald and bruised man was being led forward by a bailiff. Trailing behind was a sword-carrying officer in plain clothes, seemingly part of the same group.
A small crowd stood at a distance, clustered in twos and threes, watching from afar and whispering quietly, so softly that hardly anyone could overhear.
Yan Yu rose up on tiptoe to see better, muttering, “Why didn’t Monk Pan run if he killed someone? Did he just wait around for the bailiffs to catch him?”
A moment later, she added, “The Qian Family has good connections with the authorities. It’s no wonder the bailiffs showed up so fast. Hey, you don’t think the Qian Family will come after us too, do you?”
At the thought, she grew anxious all over again.
“What can they possibly do? Don’t worry about it,” Li Yuan replied offhandedly, leaving it at that.
As for why Monk Pan hadn’t tried to flee, a little common sense offered an easy answer. There were always people around the Qian home. If a fight had broken out, Qian San’s friends and neighbors, who all had close ties to him, would have been there in an instant.
Monk Pan wasn’t some invincible master. If things got loud, the neighbors, many of whom were friendly with the Qian Family, would rush over. He’d be outnumbered and subdued in no time.
Li Yuan shook his head slightly, thinking, “Maybe Monk Pan only wanted to teach Qian San a lesson and never intended to kill him. But a twist of fate ended in murder… In times as chaotic as these, you have to look out for yourself. Don’t play the hero unless you want to risk your life.”
He kept an eye on the bailiffs. Numbers floated above their heads, revealing their combat power.
The one leading Monk Pan by the shackles, a bailiff with a blade at his waist—an actual combat weapon, far better than Li Yuan’s simple hatchet—had an overall combat power of 4~5.
But the man in plain clothes walking behind them was much more formidable, showing a power of 19~20. How could there be such a huge difference?
After a little thought, Li Yuan had a hunch. This probably wasn’t a typical ancient dynasty but at least a low martial world, where skilled martial artists and ordinary folk were worlds apart, just like the wuxia novels he remembered.
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That day, Li Yuan decided not to rush out hunting. He would lie low and wait for things to calm down. Besides, he still had enough money for another couple of days. He could manage, even if the meals were a bit rough. It was better than risk getting himself killed prematurely.
That night, Yan Yu blew out the candle in the dim house, stripped off her cloth pants, and slipped under the blanket. Folding her long, pale legs beneath her, she snuggled up to Li Yuan as though trying to melt into him.
Li Yuan rested a hand on her shoulder. She felt thinner than before, and he pulled her close. Sensing his touch, she cuddled in without hesitation; they clung together, inseparable.
His thoughts drifted back to that mysterious swordsman with the 19~20 floating overhead. He whispered a question to her.
“I never asked, what’s your relationship to Yan Mu?”
Yan Mu was that old friend of Li Yuan’s who carried himself like a gallant hero. Before leaving town on some quest, he had entrusted Yan Yu to Li Yuan’s care. Then he vanished, never to return.
Yan Yu blushed. “He’s my nephew. I’m his aunt… I’m from an older branch of the family.”
“Uh…” Li Yuan was a bit at a loss for words. The family tree sounded complicated. He imagined his sworn brother having a little aunt who was now Li Yuan’s own wife. So what would that make him, a brother-in-law or uncle by marriage?
Yan Yu’s face went red. “We just each mind our own titles. No need to overthink it.”
Li Yuan grew curious. “If you’re his aunt, what happened to his parents? And why did he leave you in my care?”
Yan Yu’s face clouded. “Our family was attacked by sea raiders. I was the only one who survived.”
She paused, then went on. “Yan Mu said he had to escort a good official to the Jade Capital. As for why, he wouldn’t say. I know he just didn’t want me to worry…”
The Jade Capital was where the emperor reigned.
But Li Yuan wasn’t especially concerned with all that. He just asked, “So Yan Mu… his martial arts must be really impressive, right?”
Yan Yu shook her head. “I’m not really sure. Yan Mu was always away, and only came home when the sea raiders attacked our family…”
As she spoke, a sudden recollection lit her eyes. “Oh! I remember he mentioned some things, how the martial path is divided into nine ranks, how once you’re ranked, your strength is unstoppable. And something about how training hinges on blood. Pig’s blood raises pigs, dragon’s blood raises dragons. He also mentioned a sixth rank life chronicle that can change your fate…”
“So there are nine ranks in martial arts? Ranked martial artists? Pig’s blood raises pigs, dragon’s blood raises dragons? And what's a life chronicle…?”
Li Yuan felt like he finally had an answer. This world not only had martial arts but also a strict grading system, and apparently hitting sixth rank meant some kind of transformation…
He’d have to be even more careful from now on.
He fell silent, and Yan Yu didn’t speak either.
Not long after, the night air was filled with the sounds of their intimate murmurs. By the time the young woman fell asleep, Li Yuan lay on his side, staring at the patched-up paper window. After a while, he closed his eyes too.
“Better sleep… Overthinking won’t help anyway.”
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Three days passed in a blink.
The grain they’d bought was nearly gone. Yan Yu and Auntie Wang decided to head back to the unscrupulous merchant’s shop to buy more.
Uncle Wang, who usually worked at a restaurant in the nearby town, had no business there these days. Business was slow. With nothing better to do, he brought his son and daughter along to buy food as well. Since the two families lived close and often helped each other, and the grain store was nearby, Li Yuan didn’t feel any need to tag along.
The government was still around; at least the bare minimum law and order was in place. Buying grain in broad daylight along a main road was generally safe, unless brigands or sea raiders made it into the county.
Today, he decided to scout the mountains.
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Five days had passed since Qian San’s death, and the dust had settled.
Outside the village, Monk Pan was thrown into the county jail, awaiting execution in a few days. As for the Qian Family’s five brothers in Little Ink Village, not all of them were hunters to begin with. Qian Da, Qian Si, and Qian Wu spent most of their time away. Now that the supposed killer was caught, they had no interest in poking around.
That left only Qian Er in the village. He was a roughneck who led a gang of five thugs. He knew about Qian San’s grand plan to pull all the hunters under his thumb so he could live large and boss people around. With Qian San gone, Qian Er intended to pick up where his brother left off.
Who could’ve guessed Monk Pan would reveal Qian San’s scheme to the entire village on his way out? No one knew how he found out. Maybe Qian San’s wife had been so terrified that she spilled everything on the spot.
Either way, the other hunters in the village weren’t having it. They banded together, ready to push back if Qian Er so much as showed his face. And while Qian Er might act tough, he didn’t actually know the first thing about hunting.
Then there was that little hoodlum, Xiao Fei, who’d gotten hold of the provisional hunting permit of Caihua's husband. Sure, he could intimidate a few people, but he was useless when it came to taking on wild animals.
As a result, the hunting situation opened up for Li Yuan. The competition had scattered, the threats were gone.
He was tired of plain fare and wanted some meat. So, off to the mountains he went.
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