Chapter 905: The Old Merchant's Persuasion, Weier's Program

Soon, a lumberjack responded loudly: "Sir Knight! We don't know how to do anything except chop wood. What should we perform for everyone?"

Jier was well-prepared. He said to the lumberjacks: "That's simple. Just perform the chant you use when chopping wood. I suspect many people haven't seen how you chop wood yet. When the time comes, just pretend you're chopping a tree. Act it out realistically and shout the chant loudly!"

The lumberjacks laughed heartily: "That's easy enough. We'll do as you say, Sir Knight Jier!"

"Everyone watch closely, and see the skills of us lumberjacks!"

"Discuss among yourselves how many people are needed for the performance, then come over to me and register. I'll record it now. Hmm, lumberjacks, performing 'Lumberjack's Chant'. Alright, done."

Jier dipped his quill into the ink and quickly wrote down this third program.

Oh, it should be the fourth program; the first one needs to commemorate the poor refugees who died along the way.

"Who else has a program next? Be enthusiastic and generous! This is a great event worth celebrating, and it needs everyone to join in the fun. Don't be shy, come on, all of you!"

Jier called out.

On the other side, the swordsman Weier glanced frequently at Jier, who was registering performances. He clenched his hand slightly, hesitated a few times, but then pulled back.

The old merchant, sitting on a wooden box to the side, saw this scene. He first grabbed the young boy Bobo, who kept edging toward the roasted chicken, and pressed him back onto a small wooden box used as a seat. Only then did he specifically say to Weier: "What, do you have a performance program too?"

Weier paused at these words, his lips pressed tight, and he immediately shook his head: "No, I have nothing to perform."

The old merchant squinted and pondered for a moment, then asked indirectly: "Has Sir Jier had any use for you lately?"

Weier shrugged lightly—lightly, because he was actually still nursing injuries. Although the priest Bata'er Jiaoshi had healed most of them over these past few days and his own body was recovering quickly, the wounds hadn't fully healed yet. Unless he was fighting, he rarely made large movements to avoid pulling at his wounds.

"That's true, that's true. Sir Jier abandoned everyone before, ventured here alone, and then found a place where everyone could settle down safely. He seems to be able to resolve these difficult matters all by himself. Sigh, he has no use for us, yet we all owe him too much gratitude." The old merchant Fentijia said softly and gloomily.

Upon hearing this, Weier lowered his head, not knowing what he was thinking.

But then the old merchant continued: "But without an opportunity to show yourself, how can you draw closer to Sir Jier? Isn't that right?"

Weier looked up abruptly at the old merchant, as if his secret thoughts had been touched upon. After a pause, he nodded, confirming that the old merchant's logic was sound.

The old merchant then began to chat about other things as if it were nothing: "I am old, and I suffered torments at the hands of the bandits that no one my age should have to endure. I can't do much in the team, so now I can only chat and talk with everyone when I'm idle." As he spoke, he stroked the top of young Bobo's head with his aged hand, comforting the poor child who had also been harmed by the bandits.

This little boy not only had several of his fingers bitten off by rats while imprisoned by the bandits, but he had also tragically lost his older sister forever.

Weier listened to the old merchant's words and nodded unconsciously, but his attention remained on a young man in the distance who had gone to register a performance. The young man was singing, and it was said that he had improvised the new poem on the road.

At first, Sir Jier was quite surprised and pleased, but as the young man began to chant, everyone immediately frowned and shook their heads repeatedly. Jier even wore an awkward smile.

The young man's ability to compose lyrics and melodies was truly limited, and his voice was not pleasant either. What he sang couldn't even be called a nursery rhyme. It was unlikely he would be chosen to perform, as it would be a form of torture for everyone.

Even though Sir Jier didn't have many decent programs on hand himself.

The old merchant continued: "Although there don't seem to be many people managing the team, it seems that the middle-aged fat merchant Bafuer, who was tied up with me, is capable and can handle some things. Heh, but in truth, the third person in the whole team besides Sir Jier and the priest Bata'er Jiaoshi, speaking of which, is actually that Xueya Siter, who is a friend of Sir Jier and has been helping the knight drive the carriage."

Weier withdrew some of his attention from the distance, tilted his head slightly, and listened carefully to the old merchant's words.

"That Xueya Siter—I've asked around about his background and have spoken and chatted with him alone. He is a veteran guard for small caravans, a native of the Western Province of the Saint Hors Kingdom. He has always worked on the trade routes in the Western Province, doing freelance escort work for small, scattered caravans. It's hard to say how skilled he is, but at least he seems to have a lot of experience and knows how to handle various situations. However..."

Weier's ears perked up. He knew that the point of any statement was always what came after transition words like "however" or "but."

"However, how did this kind of common caravan guard end up traveling with the young Sir Jier and the priest Bata'er Jiaoshi? At the very least, I learned from some refugees that when they were at the White Stone Pass, the three of them were acting together. You know, our Sir Jier is from Kendall County in the Northwest Province; at least that's what the knight says. And as everyone knows, the priest Bata'er Jiaoshi is from the Southern Province, responsible for the village where most people originally planned to settle—Changmai Village in Sasi County, which is a village less than ten days' distance south of Shichui Village."

The old merchant smiled and stroked his graying beard: "A young knight from the Northwest Province, a young priest of the Agriculture God from the Southern Province, and a middle-aged caravan guard from the Western Province. They come from different places, and their ages, statuses, and professions are vastly different. Not to mention how they gathered together—no one in this team seems to know. So, do you know how Xueya Siter and Sir Jier met and became friends?"

Weier wanted to ask, but felt embarrassed, so he could only lower his head and secretly prick up his ears.

The old merchant had seen too many people in his life and was not surprised by this. He knew what Weier was carrying and what he needed now. But Weier's background bound him, making it difficult for the poor lad to truly lower his head for the sake of revenge, leaving him to linger and stall between vengeance and dignity for a long time.

And he, as an old man whose life had been saved by this young lad Weier, had to guide him correctly.

"Two days ago, I heard him bragging. It turns out that this spring, he followed a caravan he knew from the northern part of the Western Province, heading south, trying to trade across the entire Western Province. They happened to be following right behind the Kendall army that Jier and the others were with, heading south to support the war in the Southern Province."

"He said the Kendall army was very strong, and the horse bandits on the grasslands wouldn't dare provoke them. I don't deny this; just looking at Sir Jier is enough to know what these northerners are generally like. The key is that while his caravan was following the Kendall army south, they did indeed encounter a very dangerous situation. It seems they fought several fierce battles against some kind of Eagle Monster that has been rampant on the Western Province trade routes in recent years."

"Sir Jier and Xueya Siter met during those battles. He said he owed Sir Jier his life at the time, so this time, when Sir Jier specifically followed the priest of the Agriculture God to rescue the captured villagers, he took the initiative to help with chores like driving the carriage and standing guard at night. It's his way of trying to repay the life he owes."

The old merchant shook his head with a smile: "He said he never expected that what was originally a fast-moving group of three people and a few horses would end up being joined by hundreds of refugees halfway, leading to the current situation. But fortunately, Sir Jier and the priest Bata'er Jiaoshi have the ability to keep everything under control, so the refugee team didn't collapse or scatter, nor did it delay the original business they had to attend to."

Weier finally spoke up at this moment. He turned his head slightly to face the old merchant: "What do you mean by saying all this?"

The old merchant smiled slightly: "Didn't you understand? Or do you need me to be clearer? Weier, did you really not understand? You are a smart child, and you must have received an excellent education that we commoners could never afford. Or perhaps, you are the best-educated person in our entire team."

Weier took a deep breath, his expression indifferent: "The family is gone. Even if I was trained like that by the family, now I can do nothing..."

The smile on the old merchant's face gradually faded, and he became serious: "Weier, can you really do nothing? Or is it that you have set up one shackle after another in your own heart, and it is these false shackles that are stopping you?"

"You have to move. Revenge or whatever—it's not something where you sit still and your enemy will die of misery on their own. Last year, I heard a parable from a believer of the Wilderness God who protects merchants and travelers. It said that in a kingdom far away, there was a man who was lazy and had no drive. He spent all day wishing he could get food and wealth for nothing. Everyone laughed at him. Then one day, he was napping by a tree stump in the field. Just as he woke up, he heard a 'thump'."

"Thump!" The old merchant even repeated the onomatopoeia.

Young Bobo widened his eyes, his attention having long since shifted from the aroma of the roasted chicken to the story the old merchant was telling: "He hit his head on the tree stump! Right?"

Weier was also listening carefully, but he didn't think it was the lazy man who hit his head on the stump. He also knew that the old merchant was using the lazy man to compare him to.

"No, it was just as he woke up that he heard a 'thump'. It turned out that a rabbit, startled by him waking up, ran around wildly and crashed headlong into the tree stump, dying instantly," the old merchant said happily.

Bobo said in surprise: "So rabbits will just crash into a tree stump and die on their own?"

"It's possible, but let's get back to the story," the old merchant continued.

"This lazy man was overjoyed. He picked up the rabbit that had crashed and died, and whenever he saw someone, he would tell them that he hadn't done anything and yet was able to 'hunt' a long-eared hare that even experienced hunters found difficult to catch. He said that there was no need to practice hunting skills, accumulate experience, or go out before dawn and stay out for days."

Bobo shook his head: "That's not right, that's not right."

The old merchant patted young Bobo's head without saying anything more, just looking at Weier. Weier turned his head, not daring to meet the old merchant's eyes, but his ears remained pricked up.

After a pause, the old merchant continued: "The story isn't over. After the lazy man finished mocking the hunters, he went home, ate the rabbit meat, sold the rabbit skin for money, and lived a comfortable life for a few days. Once the coins in his pocket were gone, he was hungry again. Tell me, what do you think he did next?"

Bobo immediately replied: "I know! He must have gone back to the tree stump!"

"Very smart. That's right, the lazy man went back to the stump where he had found the hare and, just like before, had a nice, comfortable sleep by the stump. But this time, even though he slept until dark, no more rabbits crashed into the stump. In the end, he had to go home hungry, empty-handed, and spend a night enduring starvation."

Hearing this, Weier lowered his head. How could he not understand the meaning behind the story the old merchant told?

Before Bobo could express any opinion on the story, Weier suddenly turned his head and said: "I understand what you mean."

"Do you really understand?" The old merchant looked at the swordsman Weier with a scrutinizing gaze.

"I understand. You can't do nothing. A moment of good luck doesn't mean anything. If you want to eat meat, you have to practice hunting skills, accumulate hunting experience, go out early to hunt, and act with patience. Instead of waiting by a stump, hoping for a stupid rabbit to deliver itself to your door." Weier said the words slowly, bit by bit.

After saying the words, he let out a heavy breath, then took a deep breath.

To ensure Weier wouldn't give up halfway, the old merchant added a final exhortation: "Remember, your enemies are not stupid rabbits. On the contrary, they are more cunning than the most cunning fox, stronger than the strongest grizzly bear, and more united than the most united wolf pack. If you want to defeat them, you must make the most rigorous preparations. As for the first step, start by accumulating strength. Without strength, you can do nothing. Your path of revenge will forever linger outside a sturdy, locked gate."

Weier nodded solemnly.

But he did not expect the old Merchant's next words to almost make him sprain his neck: "To accumulate power, you need to become like Knight Jier—become a Knight. That means you must get familiar with him, familiar enough that the other party is willing to honestly tell you the path and methods to becoming a Knight."

"Fight alongside him, stand with him to kill the enemy with your life, and solve the difficulties he encounters that you are capable of solving, thereby accumulating trust and loyalty. First, just go over there to Knight Jier and proactively sign up for a trendy program that can be used for celebration, won't you? Don't tell me you never learned how to sing in your family?"

Weier was between laughter and tears; the determination he had finally managed to build up, and the very first step was to sign up to perform a sung poem for everyone?

"Knight Jier, I'm here to sign up for a program."

Weier was fidgety and said to Jier in a low voice.

"What? I didn't hear clearly; it's too noisy around here. Speak up and say it again, thanks." While pointing at the paper in his hand with his finger, Jier shouted toward the distance: "Over there, Nongshen Believers, since there are so many of you and you are so distinctive, how about you also come up with a celebratory program?"

"What? You don't know what to do? You still need to ask for Bata'er Jiaoshi's opinion? It's fine, the Priest is busy in the Cunzi contacting and communicating with the villagers. I'll make the call here. As a Warrior of the God of Agriculture, I need everyone to provide a program. Hmm, you don't need to worry either; how about we just have a collective Prayer? It's easy and can produce a promotional effect; the Priest will definitely be happy and supportive once he knows. That's settled then. The Nongshen Believers in the team, perform the program—'Prayer to the Great God of Agriculture'."

As Jier spoke, he scribbled down the new program on the paper, not caring about the Nongshen Believers who were in a panic not far away because of Jier's willfulness.

Only then did he notice the Swordsman Weier in front of him: "Right, you said just now that you have a program? What kind? I remember your Sword Technique is quite exquisite; are you going to perform that for everyone in public? That works too; a brilliant Sword Technique is naturally good to watch, and it can also let everyone broaden their horizons and improve their own Sword Technique skills."

"No, Lord Jier, my program is not a Sword Technique performance." Weier hurriedly clarified.

"It's singing. I want to sing a poem from my hometown, a poem from the Southern Lianmeng Wangguo. I imagine everyone in the Saint Hors Kingdom surely hasn't heard of it. The cultural source here in the Saint Hors Kingdom leans more toward the Empire; everyone shouldn't have heard of any well-known cultural works from the Southern Lianmeng Wangguo, right?"

"Oh! Not bad, not bad. I didn't expect that not only do you look good, you can actually do this too. I guarantee that if you go to be a Bard, you'll definitely be very popular with the girls!" Jier said with a grin.

"Please don't joke, my Lord. I will not go to be a Bard," Weier said firmly.

Jier smiled amusedly: "For the sake of your revenge, what if you needed to be a Bard?"

Weier froze instantly, feeling completely at a loss. His previous determination seemed to only be able to support him in performing a poetry recitation in public; for him to go and be a professional Bard, he was clearly still very resistant in his heart.

Jier laughed and patted Weier on the shoulder: "I'm just joking with you, Weier. What is the name of your poem? I need to register it."

It took a moment for Weier to recover, and he said sullenly: "'The Farthest Moonlight', it tells of a poem about a person wandering far from home missing their hometown."

Hearing this, Jier could no longer show a smile, because he himself was a traveler drifting in a foreign land. He nodded seriously: "Very good, 'The Farthest Moonlight', Weier. After your name is called later, just be prepared to stand out and perform for everyone."

"Now, go prepare. Don't forget to memorize the lyrics of the poem before the performance."

Weier nodded, performed a salute to Jier, and then silently retreated back to the old Merchant's side.