Chapter 732: 《Spring Flowers》, Terrace, Bounty, and Trouble

Jier did not want to get involved in someone else's parenting, so he silently used his fork to pick up the last piece of poultry on his plate, dipped it in the mushroom-based sauce, and swallowed it.

Little Konina pouted angrily, but not daring to defy her father's order, she could only pitifully beg the uncles at the head table of the banquet.

Old Mr. Bantuolisa smiled and advised the little girl to go home early to rest, as staying up too late would cause pimples on a young girl's face. Mr. Autosfiten, however, did not mind: "If she likes to play, let her play. Everyone's youth is limited, and some people's is even shorter. Tonight will be a beautiful night without wind or rain; in the days to come, such banquets will likely be hard to hold, right?"

"So, let her dance, and pick a young man she fancies. You are watching her, after all."

Mr. Scott, who was nearby, had originally wanted to say a few words too, but after hearing Mr. Autosfiten's words, the 'Gaunt Aolier' did not think much further and agreed to the matter.

He said to his little daughter: "Did you hear that? Go ahead and play a while longer, find someone to dance with, and then go home."

The little girl's eyes curved, and she obediently replied: "Okay! Father—"

A waiter nearby brought over a stool, allowing the little girl to sit behind the 'Gaunt Aolier'.

In the room, only she could obtain a seat next to the head table of the banquet; the daughters of other wealthy families could only sit with their families on the sides below.

At this moment, the waiters dimmed the lighting in the banquet hall by half, focusing on preserving the illumination in the center of the hall to make the stage they had set up more prominent.

The band members, holding various instruments, arrived at the edge of the wooden stage and sat down in the performance positions prepared for them. They set a simple beat and began to play the previously decided program—the third movement of "Spring Flowers".

According to Mr. Scott, who had finished his meal, this third movement lasted at least an hour, and the entire movement was divided into four sections, each using music to describe the emotions associated with four distinctive types of flowers.

Among them were the pure and elegant orchids of various colors, a passage of music that was long and ethereal. There were also the intense and passionate roses, a passage that naturally represented the love between young men and women. Then there were the fruit tree blossoms representing lush harvests, a passage filled with the hope of harvest, and finally, a strangely dull and somber melody that was nonetheless essential, representing the responsibilities and burdens of adulthood—this passage alluded to the many flowers that were flowers in name only, yet were not truly flowers.

As he spoke, the musicians had already begun their performance.

Sure enough, as one musician plucked the small harp in their hands and another blew the flute at the right moment, people could hear clusters of orchids slowly blooming by a quiet river.

It seemed as if fish were leaping and splashing in the river, a 'plop' sound that startled one; despite the sound, it made one feel an extraordinary sense of quiet and peace.

It was like a warm spring breeze, blowing from the mouth of the Goddess of Spring—Joy, lifting people's hair and flowing past their ears.

At this time, young ladies who were confident in their skills already began to walk up the steps to dance alone.

Twisting their waists and wrists, they extended their wrists to the Bard, inviting the other party to dance on stage. It looked just like one butterfly inviting another while fluttering in dance.

The handsome Bard smiled modestly and looked left and right; all he saw were middle-aged ladies with sour expressions. But the Bard, who was highly skilled at 'fishing', knew well that what one cannot get is always the best. He whispered apologies to those on both sides, stood up, simply straightened his attire, made dance movements from below the stage, and stepped onto the stage while dancing to the rhythm of the music.

He began to dance with that brave young lady.

As the two danced together, the merchant men present invited ladies they were familiar with, and they too began to spin and dance on stage in twos and threes.

Mr. Scott, who was next to Jier, took a final sip of Wine, then stood up to straighten his attire, one hand behind his back and the other extended forward, inviting the little daughter of the 'Gaunt Aolier' to dance on stage.

"Miss Deripari, may I have this dance with you?"

Mr. Scott asked the little girl in a formal and serious tone.

The 'Gaunt Aolier' waved his hand, letting his little daughter go dance. But the little girl pouted and said pitifully: "But I want to dance the rose section with Mr. Felicis."

Mr. Scott's seriousness didn't last more than a few seconds before he winked and said: "You can just pretend I am that Bard. Look, I have two ears, two eyes, a pair of hands, and three legs."

"Three legs?" The little girl was somewhat confused.

"Ahem, two legs, two legs. Anyway, you can take the opportunity to wink at the Bard on stage. After this piece ends, you can also use the proximity on the stage to invite him to continue dancing."

Having said that, Scott beckoned with his extended hand, signaling the little girl to place her hand on his.

Hearing that this was possible, the little girl jumped up excitedly from the stool, then, under her father's warning cough, she curtsied properly, lifted her dance gown, and placed her hand on Mr. Scott's palm. The two bypassed the head table of the banquet and headed toward the wooden stage.

Jier was not interested in this, mainly because he did not know how to dance. So when the 'Gaunt Aolier' asked him in a low voice, Jier straightened his body and looked around the banquet hall, discovering that Mr. Bantuolisa and Mr. Autosfiten had arrived at the terrace on the side of the banquet hall, talking and drinking while enjoying the view.

He replied: "I am not interested in dancing. Shall we go to the terrace to catch the breeze and smell the flowers?"

Taking this as an invitation to talk, the 'Gaunt Aolier' had no objections; he had been wanting to talk privately with this young Knight from the North.

Thus, the two chose the second-floor terrace on the opposite side of the previous two, each holding a drink, and walked over slowly.

The terrace was right against the wall of the banquet hall, with two on each side, making a total of four such terraces on this floor.

It was a place that only those with some status and position could qualify to use. Although no one blocked it, ordinary banquet guests would not approach unless they truly needed a private conversation.

At this moment, the terrace Jier and the 'Gaunt Aolier' were heading toward had already been opened by waiters during the meal, so as soon as they approached, they could feel a warm spring evening breeze blowing, naturally accompanied by the thick fragrance of flowers.

Jier placed the Mujiupei filled with high-end ale onto the stone railing, leaned against it, and took a deep breath through his nose.

Inhale—, exhale—.

At this moment, only a subtle feeling of relaxation filled his heart.

"This is really nice."

He exclaimed.

The 'Gaunt Aolier' chuckled and, imitating Jier, placed his silver wine cup on the stone railing of the terrace.

"Are you talking about the banquet? Autosfiten has always been impressive, whether it's this new banquet hall or the usual business of their Merchant Guild. It's just a pity that his health has always been poor."

Jier knew the other party had misunderstood, but it was not easy to correct him, so he followed the other's lead and said: "That old Mr. Bantuolisa, he did that on purpose, right? Deliberately bringing up that nonsensical, bizarre story about the gods?"

"Heh heh, you saw it too? But we all know that even if it is a trap or bait, our Mr. Autosfiten has to jump into it. Because he has no choice."

Shaking his head, the 'Gaunt Aolier' continued: "I don't know what happened to him in the past. I have also heard that Church Priests at the diocese level have treated his body, but there were no results. Two years ago, Autosfiten also spent a large sum of money at the Province Capital to buy a powerful Potion, but his body is still the same. Phew, sweating and panting just from climbing stairs—is this a normal person's body?"

"Do you know? He is only twenty-seven! Twenty-seven. Ten years ago, when I was his age, I once confronted several groups of Bandits alone with a Caravan, and by relying on my eloquence, I made them kill each other and eventually escaped. I could drive a carriage at full speed all by myself."

He shook his head: "If it were me, I would have given up long ago. Heh, I would live as long as I could, and perhaps put all my energy and resources into Faith, seeking to enter the Divine Kingdom of the great God of Wealth after death."

Jier took a small sip of ale: "Looking at it this way, Mr. Autosfiten is a stubborn, er, strong person. He did not yield to fate."

"Indeed. Ha, he even dares to provoke fate. Right now, he is on the other side, listening to the old swindler's nonsense, and likely intends to adventure into the North Three Kingdoms. Hmph, repeating the same process."

The 'Gaunt Aolier' shook his head in disdain and muttered a curse under his breath.

"What was that?"

Jier was curious about what he had cursed.

"I said, how could the gods be so easily seen? Right? Except in stories, I have never seen anyone who has seen a god; even some big shots, people like me, find it very hard to see one in a lifetime."

Jier rubbed his nose, not knowing what to say. Should he tell the other party that he had seen the God of Agriculture descend in person just a few days ago, and that as long as he entered a dream to seek help from Lady Apolifina, he would likely receive a direct response?

In Jier's heart, that Elf Lady was no different from a Human god in terms of ability.

However, saying that might lead Mr. Deripari to think he was talking nonsense from being drunk. Fortunately, the other party was just sighing about a familiar companion and soon moved on to business.

"Alright, Knight Jier, what can we talk about? Your shared mission with the Priest of the God of Agriculture? Or a business deal?"

Although the other party was drinking, his eyes were bright and the corners of his mouth were slightly curled at this moment; clearly, his thinking was clear.

Jier raised his eyebrows, not expecting that the other party had only been in contact with them for half a day and had already found out these things from his group. However, this was nothing; after all, he and Bata'er Jiaoshi had not kept such matters secret within the group, and they even encouraged those who dared to fight to join the operation to save the villagers of Changmai Village after they joined.

The more people, the better; after all, the opponent's strength was unknown. Jier was not afraid of having too many people on his side, only of having too few, or the enemy being too strong.

As for Mr. "Skinny Aolier," he just happened to be quick at gathering information; he, Jier, could not be bluffed by the other party like this.

Jier then revealed a smile, without the slightest panic at being pointed out by the other party for the mission he bore.

"How about we start with a deal?"

"What kind of deal?"

"Some bandits, bandits captured previously on the western Shanglu. To tell you the truth, there should have been at least several dozen people, but the battle was exceptionally fierce at the time, and my fighting spirit flared up for a moment, so I killed quite a few bandits who could have been captured."

Jier's words made the merchant opposite frown: "How many people? Oh, I'm not asking how many you killed, but how many you have in your hands now."

"About a dozen or so, all of them despicable bandits who can be executed at will. Of course, they have all already forcibly signed debt contracts that they can never pay off in a lifetime, according to the ways you have here. How about it? Are you interested in this? They are all sturdy young bandits, the kind who can at least do ten years of heavy manual labor."

The middle-aged merchant seemed to re-examine the young man in front of him, only then realizing what the other party's identity was.

"For this matter, it would be more appropriate for you to find Bantuolisa of the Golden Sickle; their Merchant Guild manages the debt-trader transactions in the town, as well as large areas of farmland labor outside the town."

"For matters at hand, of course, one should look for the person at hand. You can act as an intermediary and take a cut of the profit."

"Fine, tomorrow I will have someone come to your place to take the people. As for the price, we will have to wait until the time comes to judge based on the physical condition of those bandits."

"I guarantee you won't lose out."

Jier smiled and raised his wine cup, signaling for a toast.

And so, ale and Ping Guo Jiu, Mujiupei and Silver Wine Cup clinked together.

The deal was set, and the drinks were naturally downed in one gulp.

At this moment, Jier felt that the fragrance of these spring flowers seemed to carry a thick scent of blood amidst the sweetness.

Sniff, sniff—no, it was indeed the smell of blood, not a mental association from his own memory.

Following the scent, he looked toward the south of the banquet hall's fortress-like main building; after crossing a sea of flowers over ten meters wide, there was a brick wall several meters high.

And behind the wall came the faint sound of noisy human voices, as well as a familiar grave-mound-style building.

At the same time, the smell of blood was drifting from that direction.

Jier curiously raised his finger and pointed in that direction, asking: "Mr. Deripari, what is that building for?"

The middle-aged merchant turned to look, then frowned and said: "Oh, that place, that is nothing more than a place for some scum to savagely vent their violence. At the same time, it is also a link in the massive process of squeezing every bit of money out of them."

Jier did not understand: "Could you be more specific? I didn't quite catch that."

"Simply put, it is a terrible place for mixed combat involving beast fighting, ferocious monsters, humanoid monsters, and indebted humans. A large number of poor people gamble there every three days, betting on the wins and losses of the matches in the arena, and then, after the repeated matches and bets throughout the night, the vast majority of people will lose the last Iron Coin belonging to them in the stimulation of crazy violence and gambling."

Mr. "Skinny Aolier" beckoned to a waiter nearby who was paying attention to them, signaling him to come over and refill their drinks.

"Only a small portion of guys who have been glanced at by the Goddess of Luck can obtain a return of just over ten times their money. And the largest portion of the money will be pocketed by the bookmakers, encouraging those penniless wretches to work hard and honestly early tomorrow morning."

Jier took a light sip of the freshly refilled ale, using the wine cup to block his cheeks, which were smiling due to his interest.

"Sounds very efficient."

"Indeed, the poor love that place, and many merchants also go there for entertainment. However, I have only been there a few times over the years; that place is a bit too noisy. I am no longer young enough to stand people's collective shouting, as well as the hysterical wailing and crying. It is truly ridiculous; those gamblers shout louder every time than the people who are slashed in the fighting."

Jier teased: "Perhaps, the people who are slashed only shed blood, but the gamblers are simultaneously shedding the money from their purses!"

Mr. "Skinny Aolier" was clearly amused: "Haha, put that way, I suppose I must shout quite loudly too!"

The two chatted for a while, and the topic turned back to new matters.

"Have you heard of the leader of the Bandit Group who calls himself the Mountain Wolf on the western Shanglu?"

Jier only said this sentence softly, but Mr. Deripari, who heard these words, became serious in his expression.

"I didn't hear clearly, Knight Jier, could you say that again?"

"Western Shanglu, Shanlang Bani, Bandit leader."

Jier said affirmatively.

He saw that the middle-aged merchant became nervous at this moment: "What happened to that damn guy? It's not what I think, is it? Knight Jier?"

The other party's eyes quickly brightened, and Jier nodded, confirming the other party's conjecture: "Yes, I have wiped out this Bandit Group. Shanlang Bani has already been killed by me."

"Done beautifully! Good lad, oh, apologies, Knight Jier, you have truly done a good thing for our Dorn Town! By tomorrow, the large and small Merchant Guilds in the town will surely be singing your name in every single guild!"

Jier saw the other party's excited expression and pressed his hand down, signaling the other party to calm down.

"Ha, do you think I'm too excited? You don't understand, this damn guy was the most cunning blood-sucking fox on the Shanglu leading west to the Western Province! He lay upon us merchants, using his cunning brain to suck our spirit and blood, and of course, the lives of many people."

Jier was between laughter and tears; he was not interested in this. He was just a passerby and was not developing here; whether the locals were grateful or respectful had no effect on him.

"My meaning, Mr. Deripari, my meaning is, does this so-called blood-sucking fox of yours—Shanlang Bani—have a bounty? Directed at him personally or the Bandit Group."

"What are you thinking, Knight Jier, of course there is! Currently, he is ranked second on the bounty notice board of the Merchant Union. This includes, but is not limited to, the bounties initiated by the Merchant Union, the individual bounties offered by our several large Merchant Guilds, the bounties posted by numerous small and medium-sized Merchant Guilds after losing Caravan goods, and the bounties added by the relatives of countless poor people who have been harmed by that guy."

Jier's eyes lit up, and he hurriedly asked: "Then how much is it?"

"Oh, lad, no one knows this question. Just the arrest warrants pressed there for him are a palm thick; no one has ever calculated exactly how much bounty he has, but I can be certain that it is at least not this amount."

The middle-aged merchant gestured with an open palm and then shook it twice.

"Twenty-five Gold Coins?"

"No, no, no."

The other party held up his open palm: "Five."

Shook it once: "Add a zero."

Shook it again: "Add another zero."

"Five hundred Gold Coins?" Jier shouted aloud.

His shout immediately attracted the attention of many people at the banquet, but when others saw that Knight Jier was talking privately with Mr. Deripari on the balcony, everyone was just curious about what kind of big deal could involve five hundred Gold Coins.

Facing Knight Jier's guess, the middle-aged merchant nodded affirmatively: "It is this number, but that is only a rough possibility; it will only be more, not less. You must know that because of this guy, starting many years ago, he has harmed who knows how many people and ruined how many deals, leading to how many Merchant Guilds losing how much money."

Jier took a deep breath, steadied his mind, and then asked cautiously in a voice with a tremor: "Then, have you heard of the title 'King of the White Wall'?"

The middle-aged Merchant's eyes widened, his figure swayed, and he even had to rely on the stone railing of the terrace to remain standing.

"Impossible! Tell me this isn't true!"

Jier nodded: "I can only say that this fellow, and his men, nearly killed me. But, well."

He reached out and gestured up and down: "Now I am standing here, while that 'King of the White Wall' can only be buried in the dirt."

"You killed that fellow?"

"What, can he not be killed?"

Jier frowned, feeling something was wrong, his left hand resting faintly on the pommel of his Hunting Sword.

"No, no, no, well killed, well killed, it's just that, young man, you have invited big trouble upon yourself."

Jier raised an eyebrow and asked suspiciously: "What trouble could there be in killing a Bandit? Are you loyal to him?"

"How could that be possible."

Mr. Deripari laughed bitterly: "How could I be loyal to such an outdated and decaying Noble."

Jier caught the implication and realized something.