Chapter 37: The Step-Mother

The caravan’s proprietor still stood in the corner, bowing repeatedly to the squad leader at the gate, pleading his case.

Rong Kui shu frowned and called out to Xu Yuan: “Wait a moment—see what’s going on.”

The caravan’s proprietor followed the principle of “be kind to others when traveling,” took ten cash from them, and at noon invited them to eat with the caravan crew—two flatbreads and a bowl of soup made with dried meat per person.

Xu Yuan therefore waited too.

Not long after, the proprietor was waved off impatiently by the squad leader.

As the proprietor passed by, Rong Kui shu asked: “Couldn’t you sort it out?”

The proprietor glanced toward the squad leader, hesitated, then shook his head: “We’ll see tomorrow.”

Outside the city wall stood several carriage inns, all catering to caravans like this—no need to worry about finding a place to spend the night.

Rong Kui shu instantly understood what was happening and cursed: “These bastards are breaking the rules again.”

The proprietor sighed: “When you’re on the road, it’s best to endure what you can…”

Rong Kui shu grabbed him by the arm: “Come with me!”

“Hey hey hey…” The proprietor didn’t want to go—he’d already accepted losing a bit of profit on this trip. He still had to travel this route; if he angered this squad leader, he’d be harassed every single time.

But Rong Kui shu’s grip was ironclad—he dragged the proprietor to the squad leader’s side and flung his waist token down without ceremony: “Open your dog eyes and look! Do you dare to harass my father-in-law?”

The squad leader caught the token, saw it was a Demon-Slaying Army waist badge, and shuddered instantly—his arrogant demeanor vanished. He bowed deeply and returned the token with both hands: “Sir, I’m blind! Rest assured, your father-in-law will never pay a single cash passing through my checkpoint again!”

The rank on the token was “Platoon Leader”—not one of those common soldiers from the Demon-Slaying Camp.

The Demon-Slaying Army handled intelligence gathering and purging of traitors.

So who’s a traitor? Whoever they say is.

You say you’re not?

Come, come—let me show you our Demon-Slaying Thousand-Household Office’s one hundred and eight tortures.

“Hmph!” Rong Kui shu snorted: “That’s better.”

The squad leader immediately kicked and shoved his men into motion: “Move! Clear the path for this sir!”

Then he ran ahead himself, directing the cart drivers to enter the city gate.

Everyone in the caravan was stunned—they hadn’t expected the two hitchhikers they’d picked up on the road to be such big shots.

The proprietor, who had done business under the Huang Ming for twenty years, had never entered the city without paying a single cash!

The squad leader and his men stood behind the city gate arch, bowing and waving until Rong Kui shu and the caravan were out of sight.

After turning a corner, out of sight of the squad leader, Rong Kui shu waved his hand: “Enough. Let’s part ways here.”

Rong Kui shu pulled Xu Yuan to leave, but the proprietor hurriedly said: “My lord, I do have a daughter—she’s just sixteen…”

Rong Kui shu cursed: “Get lost! I helped you out—you actually think you can be my father-in-law?”

The proprietor bowed deeply by the roadside, thanking them as they departed.

Rong Kui shu beamed, secretly watching Xu Yuan’s reaction.

He wasn’t acting out of pure kindness—kindness accounted for at most three-tenths of his motive.

But Xu Yuan remained calm, saying to Rong Kui shu: “Let’s part ways here. I’m going home—my house is cramped, no room for guests. I won’t invite you inside.”

With that, Xu Yuan bowed and turned to leave.

Rong Kui shu quickly called after him: “Are you really not reconsidering?”

Xu Yuan turned back, solemnly saying: “Rong Kui shu, the Demon-Slaying Army is formidable—I saw it all.

You say following my second uncle means a bright future and high pay—I believe you. But I truly don’t want to join the Demon-Slaying Army. Don’t waste your effort.

I’m going home now—don’t follow me. My stepmother has a terrible temper. I dare not provoke her. I advise you not to either.”

Xu Yuan turned away again: “That’s all I have to say.”

Rong Kui shu watched his resolute back, opened his mouth, then finally slumped and slapped his thigh.

He oriented himself and headed toward a local freight station.

It was also a covert outpost of the Demon-Slaying Army. Since Xu Yuan refused to join, Rong Kui shu had already sent word last night via Yang the widow—he could only wait now for further orders from his old comrade’s new superior.

…

Xu Yuan had seriously considered joining the Demon-Slaying Army.

His second uncle had clearly risen in status; joining the army and leveraging his uncle’s influence to resolve his family’s “problems” seemed a good option.

But Rong Kui shu had first secretly observed him, then become urgently eager once he saw Xu Yuan’s capability.

Xu Yuan dared not go.

Since he could remember, Xu Yuan had never seen his second uncle.

How much real kinship could such a relative possibly feel?

Why had he suddenly appeared? Was it truly out of benevolent intent to “bestow favor”… or was there some dangerous task requiring someone with his “nephew” status?

Xu Yuan didn’t really want to know the answer.

After all, he was his father’s only living brother.

Not knowing the truth, they could still be family.

Shanhe County was small; Xu Yuan had grown up here, familiar with every alley and lane… and every low wall, dog hole he could use as a shortcut.

In less than the time of one incense stick, Xu Yuan stood at the eastern entrance of River Works Alley.

The alley roughly formed a “U” shape, with exits at both east and west ends, housing seven or eight families inside.

The two households at the far end were the Xu family and Master Shen, the dog-skin plaster peddler.

Master Shen always took pride in his dog-skin plaster—its efficacy was so great that “good wine needs no alley.”

At the eastern entrance stood Mao Si’s carpentry shop; at the western entrance, Wang Shen’s basket-weaving stall.

Mao Si’s shop door was locked—he was probably out on a job.

Xu Yuan entered the alley, his pace unconsciously quickening.

He reached his home—the entrance was a small door.

The main gate was the stage gate, located at the center of the “U,” opened only during opera performances.

Xu Yuan pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Creak—

The sound startled a young woman in the courtyard. She wore a blue cotton jacket and a faded, washed-out apron, sleeves rolled up to reveal arms as white and smooth as lotus stems, scrubbing clothes in the yard.

Her black hair was coiled into a fallen-horse bun, enhancing the brightness of her pale, delicate face. She was barely in her early twenties. Hearing the noise, she turned her head toward the door—and seeing Xu Yuan, her dark, glossy eyes flared with surprise, quickly suppressed.

…

Xu Yuan saw his stepmother.

The afternoon sun lazily spilled over the western wall, bathing the eastern side where the well stood.

A wooden basin rested against the well’s edge, holding a washboard. As she turned her head, a few strands of hair fell across her forehead, glowing translucent in the sunlight.

At the sight of him, her red lips parted slightly—her bright eyes flickered with surprise, confusion, disbelief, then settled into a single question: “Did Qiao Ziaoyang send you back?”

She sprang to her feet—her height matched Xu Yuan’s almost exactly.

The Huang Ming scholar class still favored the frail, slender ideal; she clearly defied this sickly aesthetic.

Yet she was agile, efficient, and striking—like the green, upright bamboos behind the wall.

She flung the half-squeezed garment back into the basin, splashing soapberry foam everywhere.

“I’ll go argue with him!” She picked up the washboard.

Requesting monthly votes.

More tonight.

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(End of Chapter)