Chapter 99: Lao Ya Kou (Second Update)

The next morning, as dawn broke, Bai Lao’s eyes woke up and urged everyone: “Hurry up and move out!”

Fu Jingyu pulled out a miniature yellow almanac from his sleeve and flipped through it: today’s prohibitions:

Night travel, bathing, marriage, felling trees.

Xu Yuan leaned over to look and felt even more envious: “A celestial observatory almanac, and a miniature one too—wow, sons of great families really are rich.”

Fu Jingyu stared at him in silence: “Xu brother, are you deliberately putting on this resentful-rich-guy act to needle me?”

Xu Yuan burst out laughing: “Exactly!”

Fu Jingyu merely said, “Oh.”

He’d only asked for an answer, leaving Xu Yuan speechless: “You’re such a boring fellow.”

The Celestial Observatory was responsible for verifying and printing the annual yellow almanacs.

Originally, private reprinting by civilians was forbidden, but that sparked widespread public outrage.

Each almanac from the Celestial Observatory cost two taels of silver—how could an ordinary family afford it?

Eventually, they relented: civilian publishers and printing shops could reprint them, but had to pay the Celestial Observatory a fee based on quantity.

After that, civilians began calling the Celestial Observatory’s printed almanacs “Great Almanacs.”

Prices rose to ten taels per copy, and even fifty taels for some.

But a fifty-tael almanac was already considered a “lucky charm”—it was said that hanging one in your home would ensure a year of household safety and protect the master from sudden misfortune.

In Jiaozhi, everyone used privately reprinted almanacs from “Jicheng Hall”; Xu Yuan’s family hung one too—ten cash per copy.

Fu Jingyu tucked the almanac away again. The group emerged from their shelter and suddenly felt something was off—they looked up and saw the Drifting Master hanging from a tall tree just outside the shelter, swaying gently in the morning breeze.

So we just walked right under his feet…

Everyone’s faces darkened. Bai Lao’s eyes roared: “Get down!”

The Drifting Master slid down swiftly.

“To reach Guanghuo Street, we must pass through Lao Ya Kou,” Bai Lao’s eyes said. “We’ll deal with them on the riverbank just before Lao Ya Kou.”

Bai Lao’s eyes tightened his leg bindings: “We still have a hundred and twenty li of mountain path ahead—we must reach it within an hour and a half, or we’ll be too late.”

Yan Lao looked uneasy—he was a Fa Xiu, specializing in calculation, and his physical strength was weak; none of them had ridden horses into the mountains.

Lu Zhengyan said: “I can carry one person.”

Bai Lao’s eyes turned to Xu Yuan and Fu Jingyu.

Fu Jingyu pulled out a pair of Jia Ma: “I can keep up.”

But he only had one pair.

Xu Yuan summoned Jiang Dan, stepped onto the wheel, and ignited the fire in his dantian: “I’m fine too.”

Bai Lao’s eyes nodded: “Good. Let’s go!”

As they started running, Bai Lao’s eyes was surprised to find Xu Yuan was the fastest!

His stepmother’s craft object was incredibly powerful.

Even the Drifting Master, floating in midair, was slower than Xu Yuan.

Lu Zhengyan, carrying Yan Lao, fell to the very back.

The entire team now had Bai Lao’s eyes at the front—he was the guide.

Xu Yuan lagged only half a body’s length behind, moving effortlessly.

Third was the Drifting Master.

Fourth was… Da Fu!

The white goose had originally been held in Xu Yuan’s arms, but it clearly disliked being carried; after a short distance, it wriggled free, ran a bit, then flapped its wings—taking flight!

It glided half a li, landed, ran again, then took flight once more. While others struggled, Da Fu was having a blast.

Fu Jingyu, despite the Jia Ma on his feet, still had to run—and was already gasping for breath.

Fu Jingyu stared at Xu Yuan, who was stepping on fire-wheels ahead, panting heavily: “The most extravagant ones are clearly you craft Xius!”

How dare you mock me?

Xu Yuan wasn’t a craft Xiu, but he came from a family of them.

Bai Lao’s eyes couldn’t help but feel competitive—he sped up even more, yet Xu Yuan still lagged exactly half a body’s length behind, no more, no less.

This was brutal for Fu Jingyu and Lu Zhengyan behind them.

The original plan was an hour and a half—but they arrived at Lao Ya Kou in just over an hour.

Xu Yuan retracted his wheels and extinguished the fire in his dantian, silently thinking: close call—if we’d gone much farther, my dantian fire would’ve run out.

Bai Lao’s eyes’ feather cloak was soaked through with sweat.

He felt a pang of regret—why did he have to show off against these young whelps? His old bones and joints ached like a grandchild’s.

Fu Jingyu gasped for air, tongue hanging out—he could’ve competed with the Drifting Master for longest tongue.

He swallowed several medicinal pills to quickly restore his strength.

Then he distributed the pills to everyone—there’d be a tough fight ahead.

Xu Yuan took three pills, his eyes brightening—excellent stuff.

His nearly depleted dantian fire surged back to full.

Bai Lao’s eyes waved his hand: “I can’t take these.”

He had his own method—he pulled out a dark, root-like object, likely a wild he shou wu or huang qi from the mountains, bit off a small piece, and his pale, bluish face turned back to a dull yellow.

Xu Yuan began scanning the surrounding terrain, searching for ambush spots.

As he looked, his gaze locked onto a massive eye on the distant cliff.

Lao Ya Kou was a canyon dozens of zhang wide, with a river seven or eight zhang across flowing through it; steep cliffs rose a hundred zhang high on either side.

The rocks were as black as crow feathers.

They seemed to drip ink, staining the riverbank below—roughly a hundred zhang wide—pitch black.

At fifty to sixty zhang up the cliff, a single eye, three zhang wide, suddenly opened.

Its pupil was pitch black, cold and emotionless, stiffly turning as it slowly swept over every person on the riverbank.

In that instant, everyone—including Lao Pao Shan—understood that the “disguise” imposed by the Mountain Lord Stele could not fool this crow’s eye.

Bai Lao’s eyes said: “See the blackened area beneath the cliff? Don’t cross that boundary!”

Lao Ya Kou is the gateway to Guanghuo Street, and that eye is the gatekeeper—if you cross that line, the gatekeeper will inspect you. None of us—not even a hanging ghost—can survive inspection!”

Fu Jingyu asked: “What happens if you can’t pass inspection?”

“The gatekeeper keeps ‘dogs.’ They hide in the river. If you can’t pass inspection, it calls the dogs out—they drag you into the river and drown you!”

Bai Lao’s eyes pointed to the cliff base: “See those chains? They’re for the dogs.”

Xu Yuan looked closely—indeed, seven chains were driven into the cliff’s base, each as thick as an adult’s thigh, the other ends sinking into the river.

Yan Lao gasped: “What kind of monstrous beast needs chains this thick to be chained?”

Bai Lao’s eyes shook his head: “I don’t know, and I don’t want to know.”

The first rule of Pao Shan people is to follow the rules—one of which is never crossing that boundary.

Xu Yuan pointed to a patch of trees on one side of the riverbank: “Ambush there. When they arrive, we surge out and cut off their path to Lao Ya Kou.”

Yan Lao, calculating as he worked, stuck his counting rods into the riverbank.

Fu Jingyu also hurried to set up his Maoshan techniques.

Bai Lao’s eyes used Pao Shan methods to lay several traps.

(End of Chapter)