Chapter 4: A Temporary Stay

Everyone marveled at this after hearing it. Cao Chuan immediately followed up with another jab: "Though this humble Daoist is new here, this is Jiangnan, and I do know there's a great city called Hangzhou — though I've no idea if the name has changed in the current age."

Fort Master Zhou quickly replied: "Allow this Zhou to inform you, True Man: that great city is still called Hangzhou even now. It lies a hundred and fifty li east of here."

Zhou Tong and Second-in-Command Chen exchanged several glances. Chen Huoding hastily refilled Cao Chuan's cup and took the chance to ask, "May I ask what plans the immortal elder has from now on? Is there any way our stronghold brothers can be of use?"

By now Cao Chuan had downed another half-bowl of the local brew and had relaxed a little, his chatter growing much more free: "At present I know neither the land nor the people. I will likely impose upon your esteemed stronghold for a stretch of days. Eventually I must go traveling. When this humble Daoist returns to the mountain another day, there will naturally be blessings to share with you all."

The moment the men heard that lodging him would also bring blessings, they immediately urged Cao Zhenren in a clamor of voices to stay a few more days. Mu Mountain's scenery was beautiful, and there were plenty of fat sheep at the foot of the mountain. Surely, whatever amount of earthbound numinous energy the True Man spoke of must exist here too. Pingfeng Stronghold had wine and meat aplenty. If the True Man truly felt he had stayed long enough and wished to roam the clouds, the stronghold would still arrange men to lead his horse and guide the way. This karmic bond was one they absolutely had to forge.

Cao Chuan naturally nodded with a smile. Seeing that the sky was growing late and feeling that the cold sweat on his back had mostly dried, he proposed taking a stroll around the stronghold. Zhou Tong immediately barked an order, and the men began clearing the feast. Cao Zhenren, accompanied by the several leaders, proceeded to inspect Pingfeng Stronghold.

There was only one steep road out of Pingfeng Stronghold — the very same one Cao Chuan had taken on his way in. The terrain was precipitous, and it would remain largely unchanged even centuries later.

The stronghold wall was built from two layers of bundled logs with rammed earth packed between them, the outer surface plastered over with yellow mud. It stood over three meters high, enclosing this stretch of flat ground on the mountainside. Behind the wall ran a wooden walkway over a meter high; a man standing on it was at just the right height to hurl stones outward. Hmm, he could already see quite a pile of rocks and clay jars stacked at the base of the wall.

Past the stronghold gate was the square — the very place where they had been drinking. Along one side of the square stood a row of weapon racks holding knives, spears, and axes, all badly worn. The spears were wooden shafts with iron heads, and the knives came in several different styles.

Facing the square were three stone houses. The one in the middle was the largest, its door standing open to reveal an empty interior. The stronghold men were just then carrying the chairs and tables they had used back inside. This must be the legendary Gathering Righteousness Hall — yet it did not even have a signboard. Cao Chuan found himself thoroughly underwhelmed by these bandits' minimalist style.

Starting from the mountainside, tier upon tier of bamboo houses climbed the slope, hidden among the emerald woods. He could see spring water trickling down through the forest.

Zhou Tong, apparently still feeling a bit uneasy deep down, spoke as they walked, as if explaining something: "This Pingfeng Stronghold has passed through several fort masters before coming into this Zhou's hands. In ordinary times, when there is killing and trading to be done, it mostly falls upon the various mountain lords and local strongmen in the vicinity. As for genuine traveling merchants, we have always dealt with them through negotiation. We take a share of the profit and then escort them out of our territory with courtesy. We have never committed any outrages."

Cao Chuan asked curiously, "I see deep mountains and dense forests on all four sides. Are there really that many traveling merchants?"

The old man with the goatee, who had introduced himself earlier as Accountant Lü, let out a hearty laugh and answered: "True Man may not know this, but half a day's journey down this mountain lies the official road. This place connects Hui and Hang; the trade route is thriving, with an endless flow of silk, salt, tea, and rice in transit. In ordinary times, we also have some mountain goods to sell. The mule and horse teams that travel back and forth are all well-acquainted with the stronghold."

Cao Chuan nodded. He now understood — the "official road" the old man spoke of was most likely the very road he had taken by minibus before crossing over.

Zhou Tong continued to add: "There are also some village households behind the mountain. Most are people who fled into the mountains over the years, unable to bear the court's heavy taxes. They open a few acres of thin fields among the streams and valleys, hunt some game, and gather some mountain goods — enough to barely feed and clothe themselves. They are all fellow countryfolk. We brothers drive off the tax collectors and bring up some private salt from below the mountain to sell. The mountain households bring down rice and mountain goods to trade. It works out cheaply for both sides."

Cao Chuan thought to himself, That's only because you didn't live in later generations. Otherwise, the tax collectors would have wiped you out long ago.

As they spoke, they arrived at the door of a stone house. Accountant Lü introduced it: "This is the Public Storehouse."

Though a certain someone had worked on historical drama sets, this was the first time he had learned that mountain bandits even had a "Public Storehouse." Still, since it was a storehouse, he felt it would be impolite to enter. The other stone house was used to store salt, rice, and mountain goods.

Along the way, Tour Guide Zhou proudly recounted to Cao Chuan the struggle-filled history of Pingfeng Stronghold: In the past, there had been more than one stronghold in these mountains. Through decades of relentless fire merges led by several generations of Pingfeng Stronghold's leaders, old and young — hacking through brambles and giving hot-blooded chase with blades — they had finally achieved the true fruit in recent years and made a name for themselves along the Hui-Hang Road.

In the most intense years of struggle, the stronghold had over two hundred fighting men dedicated solely to battle. In the last couple of years, as the situation gradually stabilized, the older ones had all been sent back behind the mountain to till the fields and sire children. Those who remained on the mountain now were all newcomers selected from the various villages.

Cao Chuan hummed and hawed, joining in to sigh with feeling over their fiery years. When he had finally waited until the sky darkened, he asked where the stronghold's standard rooms were.

Accountant Lü chuckled, leading the way as he said: "We do have guest rooms. The mountain households who come to trade salt and rice usually stay overnight. But those guest rooms are crude and no one sweeps them — hardly a place for an honored guest to stay. If the True Man does not find it objectionable, my room can serve as the True Man's resting place for today. It is at least tidy. Tomorrow, we will properly sweep out a quiet chamber for you."

Cao Chuan demurred politely for a moment, then accepted without further protest. During this exchange, Second-in-Command Chen also remarked that the True Man was young and witty, just to his taste, and vigorously invited him to his place to drink all night and tell stories of the immortal realms. Accountant Lü scolded him with a laugh: "You crude fellow! Your room holds nothing but knives, axes, wine, and meat — not a shred of refinement. An old man like me would lose half his life just from the stench of one night there. Don't you go poisoning the True Man!" Chatting as they went, they soon arrived at Accountant Lü's door.

Opening the door and stepping inside — hmm, a cultured man's room was indeed different. A bamboo table, bamboo chairs, and on the table, the Four Treasures of the Study along with some account books and papers. A bamboo bed. At the back of the house was a small alcove holding a water vat and a night-soil bucket.

Against the wall stood a bookshelf lined with some thread-bound books, as well as a few pieces of porcelain and bamboo carvings. It was plain to see that Accountant Lü was clearly a man who had risen above vulgar tastes.

Cao Chuan hurriedly expressed his thanks. Finally, Accountant Lü lit the oil lamp on the table and took his leave together with the two leaders.

He bolted the door. After checking the window, Cao Chuan dropped heavily onto the bamboo chair, covered his forehead with his hand, and let out several long breaths. It took him a long while to recover.

Everything he had experienced today terrified him to the core in retrospect, despite his usually rather thick nerves. If his reaction had not been quick at the time, how could he possibly have secured a standard room in a bandit's den right now? He would have long ago been treated as a hostage for ransom and locked in a dark room by these people.

The moment he thought about how he had been tossed into a so-called parallel world, he remembered that the chief culprit still had not been dealt with. He turned around, placed the back of his hand under the oil lamp, and began to observe it carefully.

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