Chapter 82: Big Tree Cross Slope

In the Water Margin world, on a road winding through a dense forest, two men were traveling.

One wore a neat, practical short tunic—a massive, powerfully built man.

The other wore a blue scholar’s robe, exuding elegant poise.

These two were none other than Zhang Jie, out on scholarly travels, and Wu Song, guarding him.

As for Pan Jinlian and the others, Zhang Jie had left them behind in Yanggu County.

This journey was not as convenient as his previous trip to Jinan for the imperial exams.

It required traveling thousands of miles, making it impossible to bring delicate Pan Jinlian and the others.

Pan Jinlian had pouted at this news—her lips had hung low enough to hold several soy sauce bottles that day.

Zhang Jie found this unacceptable, so that night he gave her a thorough beating with a staff.

Zhang Jie: I’m Happy Superhero—I become a superhero whenever I’m happy.

As for Yan Poxi, Zhang Jie, with his vigorous vitality, did not favor one over the other—he gave her a thorough beating with a staff too.

Zhang Jie: I’m kidding—you don’t have to be happy for me to be a superhero~

After being thoroughly disciplined, Pan Jinlian and the others avoided Zhang Jie for days.

They feared he’d drag them off again for another staff lesson.

Satisfied, Zhang Jie hummed a cheerful tune: “We common folks,

Today we’re truly happy,” as he and Wu Song began their scholarly journey.

It had been half a month since their departure.

Traveling slowly, they had reached Yingyuan Town in Xinxian County, Shandong Province,

At the border with Fan County, Puyang City, Henan, about to enter Henan via Mengzhou Road.

“Young Master, the weather doesn’t look good—we should hurry.”

Wu Song looked up at the sky—dark clouds filled the heavens,

And though it was only evening, the light had already dimmed; he spoke in a low, rumbling tone.

“Wu Er’s right—we should quicken our pace.”

Zhang Jie nodded. With his profound inner energy and acute perception,

He had already sensed the heavy moisture gathering in the air.

Within moments, a torrential downpour would surely come.

He himself was unbothered—he had inner power to protect him.

But Wu Song was not so lucky; even with an umbrella, he couldn’t shield his whole body.

Winter was approaching, the air growing colder; drenched in rain laced with chill,

Even a mighty man would catch a fever.

In this ancient world without modern medicine,

A simple cold or flu could fell a man as strong as an ox.

Of course, with Wu Song’s true “power to wrestle lions and tigers”—his divine mortal physique—

He wouldn’t be brought down by a cold rain, but he’d certainly be left miserable.

“Giddy-up!”

Wu Song squeezed his mule’s flanks—the mule, in pain, immediately sped up.

“Little Gray, run faster.”

Zhang Jie also patted his mount’s rump, urging it to move quicker.

“Eh-ah, eh-ah~”

It reluctantly raised its head and brayed a few times, then slowly picked up pace.

But its speed wouldn’t increase—it fell farther behind Wu Song, who rode a tall, powerful mule.

“Little Gray, you’re thinking of becoming donkey roast, aren’t you?”

Zhang Jie’s eyes turned dangerous; he whispered a threat.

Yes, just like Wu Song’s mount, which was a mule,

Zhang Jie’s mount was no proper horse—it was a gray donkey!

Compared to delicate horses, donkeys were far easier to care for:

Grass and leaves satisfied their daily needs.

They rarely fell ill, making them ideal for long journeys like Zhang Jie’s.

Well, truthfully, Zhang Jie chose a donkey simply because he was lazy.

But if you want the benefits of a donkey, you must endure its flaws.

For instance, Zhang Jie’s gray donkey was a truly lazy beast,

Always finding excuses to slack off unless ordered.

Zhang Jie’s lazy donkey: It always finds chances to rest~

“Eh-ah, eh-ah!”

Sensing Zhang Jie’s threat, his donkey finally sped up, catching up to Wu Song, who had slowed.

Boom, boom!

Lightning like coiling dragons and serpents flashed through the dark clouds.

Pitter-patter, pitter-patter.

Large raindrops began to fall.

“Giddy-up, giddy-up!”

Zhang Jie and Wu Song hurried forward.

Splash, splash.

Soon, the raindrops grew denser.

At that moment, Wu Song, who had gone ahead to scout, spotted something and called out:

“Young Master, there’s a tavern ahead—shall we take shelter?”

Zhang Jie narrowed his eyes—a tavern stood a hundred meters ahead, beside the road,

Built of several thatched huts, with a flagpole flying a large “ Jiu ” character.

Around the tavern stood several massive trees, so wide it took several adults to encircle them, unmoved by the wind.

“Beside Mengzhou Road, Big Tree Cross Slope, tavern—interesting.”

A faint smile appeared on Zhang Jie’s face.

“Let’s go inside and shelter from the rain.”

Zhang Jie flicked the reins, sending his lazy donkey ahead toward the tavern.

Boom, boom!

Splash, splash!

Just as Zhang Jie and Wu Song reached the tavern’s eaves, the rain poured down in torrents,

Thick mist rose, obscuring vision to within a hundred meters.

“I wanted gentle drizzle crossing a twilight boat, wisps of smoke over a broken bridge.

Not arrows of rain slashing my face, icy wind frosting half my body.”

Gazing at the rain pouring like a celestial river, cold and biting, Zhang Jie sighed.

Whether because of the heavy rain or too few customers,

No servant waited outside the tavern.

Zhang Jie and Wu Song had to fend for themselves.

“Come on, let’s go in.”

Zhang Jie tied the donkey to a post at the entrance, letting it shelter from the rain, then called Wu Song inside.

Wu Song, having tied his mule to another post, silently followed behind Zhang Jie.

Creak.

Zhang Jie pushed open the door—the wooden hinges groaned with a grating, teeth-on-edge sound.

In that instant, a sharp gust of wind rushed in.

The torches lit in the tavern’s main hall flickered wildly.

Only the central bonfire burned steadily.

“Damn it, who’s this reckless brat?”

In the hall, a large man, bare-armed and warming himself by the fire, turned sharply at the sudden wind.

He cursed as he looked back.

“Who is it? Oh, just a poor scholar.”

The man sneered as he saw Zhang Jie enter.

Though Zhang Jie wore a scholar’s blue robe, the man still assumed he was a penniless student.

Any other juren would be surrounded by servants—why would he open his own door?

As for a jinshi, that was another matter entirely.

Without eight men carrying his palanquin, how could he possibly be worthy of the Literary Star?

“Old Three, don’t be rude!”

The bearded man, clearly the leader among the five warming themselves by the fire, barked out.

“He’s just a poor scholar.”

The third brother still wouldn’t let it go.

Forgive them—Zhang Jie’s martial skill had long since reached the state of divine radiance inwardly concealed,

even if a top-tier expert from the Heaven-Defying or Heavenly Dragon worlds came to observe,

he still appeared as a bookish man powerless to lift a chicken.

Creak.

At that moment, Wu Song pushed the door open and entered.

Hmm, the doorway Zhang Jie had opened was too small for Wu Song.

“I—”

The words the third brother had been about to shout instantly recoiled back into his throat.

“What a mighty, imposing man!”

The middle-aged man among them, thin but with occasional flashes of sharpness in his eyes, exclaimed.

Even the third brother dared not speak again—compared to this powerful man behind the pale-faced youth,

even their own brother, whose strength was famed throughout the surrounding villages, meant nothing.

Facing the third brother’s sudden shift from arrogance to humility, Zhang Jie only wanted to say:

“I still prefer you when you’re defiant—please go back to that.”

“Sir, my apologies—my younger brother acted rashly; I offer you my sincere regrets.”

The bearded man rose to his feet and bowed to Zhang Jie.

“Nonsense, nonsense—who can be blamed for ignorance?”

Zhang Jie declared he was magnanimous and took no offense at this minor slight.

He was no ruthless killer who wiped out entire families over trifles.

Who didn’t know Zhang Jie was a refined and easygoing man?