Chapter 18: Chief Steward Hu

For the next few days, Cao Chuan focused on practicing his marksmanship, going on schedule to teach the squad and waste bullets. After a week, his shooting had improved considerably. During this time, the gold thread inside the ring not only formed a full circle again but also grew slightly thicker. Cao Chuan knew it was time to set out — the energy this thing had stored up should be enough for two or three round trips of crossing over. He always had to keep extra transmissions in reserve for emergencies to save his life, right?

Early in the morning, he drove to the wholesale market, loaded the remaining salt bags into the ring, then returned to his neighborhood, went upstairs, and locked the door from inside. He took off the Burberry, changed into a green cloth Daoist robe and yellow suede shoes, and sat in front of the mirror, skillfully tying up his hair into a topknot. In a daze, he felt as if he were back on set, getting his makeup done.

He looked at the young Daoist priest in the mirror and nodded: Not bad, quite a bit like White Zhan Tang.

He checked his watch — 11:30 a. m. "Mm, just in time for the meal." Daoist Master Cao let out a hearty laugh, and the next moment, he appeared inside the house at Pingfeng Stronghold.

He swept a glance over the furnishings in the room, casually mussed up the bed, then pulled back the door bolt and shouted: "Zhao Si! Zhao Si!"

Not two minutes later, Zhao Si appeared before him with a grin, then his face instantly changed to a dumbstruck look. "Sir, this robe... and your hairstyle's changed too!"

Cao Chuan asked with a beaming smile: "Do I look like a Great Ming Daoist priest or not?"

Zhao Si had caught on by now and nodded like a chicken pecking at rice: "You do, even more than the real thing. Great Ming Daoist priests aren't as neat and tidy as you, sir, nor as tall and strapping."

Cao Chuan laughed heartily. "The chiefs are all here, I take it? Lead the way, then." With that, he and Zhao Si headed straight for Green Stone Terrace.

Zhou Tong, Chu Jianli, and Lü Wenda had just arrived when they saw Zhao Si leading a young Daoist priest over. A closer look — who else could it be but Cao Chuan!

Given that this fellow brought everyone a surprise every single time, they'd gained some experience by now. Zhou Tong quickly caught on and hurriedly rose to cup his fists. "So the gentleman has changed his attire. Look at this full set of Ming Dynasty Attire — truly, truly..."

Seeing Zhou Tong at a loss for words, Chu Jianli quickly added: "Noble and dashing!"

"Ah, yes, noble and dashing, noble and dashing."

Cao Chuan laughed heartily. This really wasn't him showing off — here at Pingfeng Stronghold, he, Cao, truly deserved those four words.

From what he'd seen, every last man in this stronghold was a third-rate wreck. At one meter sixty-five you stood out like a crane among chickens, and the chicken flock averaged one meter fifty-six, mostly old chickens at that. He could never tell whether they were thirty or forty, and their teeth were even worse — from the Great Lord down to the lowliest thug, every single one had a mouthful of yellow, crooked teeth.

Once everyone was seated, Cao Chuan explained: "Changing into Ming Dynasty Attire is also for convenience when traveling in the future — to avoid being arrested and caned by the County Magistrate for strange, outlandish dress."

The crowd burst out laughing. "Who'd dare cane you, sir!" As Zhou Tong laughed, he exchanged a glance with Lü Accountant. Each saw the same thing in the other's eyes: He's preparing to roam abroad.

While they laughed over here, Zhao Si had already nimbly brought out porridge and chopsticks. Cao Chuan didn't stand on ceremony and started eating the dried bamboo shoots and cured meat on the table, asking as he ate: "No mishaps on the mountain these past few days? The Second Lord still down below hacking at people and hasn't returned?"

Zhou Tong replied: "A few days ago, the White Village men fought another battle. We didn't come out the worse this time, just a few more wounded. For now, it's a bitter war of attrition — whichever side can't hold out first will have to bow its head."

Hearing from Zhou Tong that the tug-of-war down the mountain was still ongoing, Cao Chuan decided not to worry about it further.

He didn't have a gun on him at the moment, and even if he did, he had no intention of getting involved — guns were for him to use at critical moments, not for helping bandits seize territory.

The group ate and chatted. Cao Chuan lay back on a bamboo chair, half-listening to Zhou Tong and the others boast while his mind wandered elsewhere. Just then, he saw Chen Huoding striding over with great purpose.

Chen Erye grinned at the sight of Cao Chuan and cupped his fists. "Greetings, sir. What a coincidence — I've just returned to the mountain and here you are emerging from seclusion."

Before Cao Chuan could answer, Zhou Tong's expression darkened beside him. "When did you return to the mountain? Why no messenger sent ahead?"

Chen Huoding plopped down, drained half a bowl of tea in one go, and then said: "Urgent matter. I came up the mountain early this morning. Hu San has come to pay a visit — he's in the main hall right now."

Zhou Tong was even more puzzled. "You two came together?"

"Hu San came to Hengtang early this morning with a major matter to discuss with Big Brother. From his tone, this major matter will most likely fall on White Village's head, so I led the fellow up the mountain. Don't worry, Big Brother — all's quiet down below. Zhao Wutian is steady as always."

Zhou Tong gave a cold laugh. "What major matter? It's nothing more than asking the brothers to risk their lives — the same old trick. Well then, since Chief Steward Hu has come to pay his respects, we must at least give him that face."

At this, Zhou Tong waved a hand at Zhao Si nearby. "Si, go invite Chief Steward Hu up."

Zhao Si scurried down the mountain at once.

Cao Chuan was a bit curious and tilted his head to ask Chu Jianli beside him: What sort of immortal is this Chief Steward Hu?

Chu Jianli thus introduced him to Cao Chuan: The Hu Family is the foremost gentry clan in these parts — many people, much land. They have in-laws serving as officials in Suzhou Prefecture, and clansmen who've served for generations as Clerical Staff in the Lin'an County Yamen. They also keep a stronghold up in the mountains. They're well-connected on both sides of the law. This Chief Steward Hu who's come today is a distant relative of Old Master Hu. Usually, all of the Hu Family's dealings in the underworld are handled by this Hu San.

Chu Jianli went on to add: Hu Manor is not far from Lin'an County Town. In earlier years, the two sides were rivals — Pingfeng Stronghold had robbed the Hu Family's goods, and the Hu Family hadn't taken it lying down, mobilizing their own forest outlaws and tenant farmers to fight it out with Pingfeng Stronghold's men. Relations had eased considerably these past two years, and the two sides had begun joining forces again to oppose White Manor.

As they spoke, Zhao Si arrived leading a man. Cao Chuan couldn't tell his age either, only that he was no more than forty — dark and stocky, with a thoroughly ordinary face. He wore a short robe of homespun cloth, a bamboo hat on his head, and a short knife tucked at his waist. At first glance, he looked just like a simple, honest farmer.

This Chief Steward Hu had a powerful, resonant voice. Before even drawing near, he clasped his fists and let out a long laugh. "It seems Hu San has come at just the right time today — all the chiefs are here. I saw on my way up how thriving the stronghold looks. Master Zhou, you truly manage things well."

Zhou Tong rose to greet Chief Steward Hu and bade him sit. "Hu San, Hu San, spare us the honeyed words for now. What errand has your Old Master sent you on? Go ahead and lay it on us."

Chief Steward Hu chuckled but didn't answer Zhou Tong. Instead, he clasped his fists toward Cao Chuan. "This friend here looks unfamiliar. May I ask...?"

Zhou Tong quickly interjected: "This is Mr. Cao."

Without a word, Cao Chuan tossed aside the pine nuts in his hand and smiled faintly, cupping his fists toward Shopkeeper Hu.

Hu San had spent many years in the underworld, and from this brief greeting alone, he could tell this young Daoist was someone of consequence. Tall and big of frame, a mouthful of white teeth, sitting there without the slightest trace of unease. And judging by Zhou Tong's manner, he wouldn't volunteer a single extra word. "Could he be a new hostage Pingfeng Stronghold has snatched for ransom?" Hu San wondered to himself.