Chapter 76: Southwest Ancient Road: Encountering Injustice

Late spring on the Southwest official road.

After days of rain, the sun finally appeared, slightly damp.

The scent of earth mixed with the rawness of roadside weeds blew over them.

Chen Wen's party of six, dressed as merchants, rode lightly on swift horses.

They had just left the last ridge marking the edge of Jiao Tu Zhen's territory.

They truly entered the tangled, complex fissures of power in the heart of the Central Plains.

Horse hooves splashed tiny mud droplets from the water‑filled ruts.

Chen Wen tightened the reins, slowed his mount, and calmly scanned the roadside.

It was unlike the stubborn new growth and order sprouting from the ruins around Jiao Tu Zhen.

The farther southwest they went, the more desolate and bleak the scenery became.

Barren fields were overgrown with shepherd's purse and wild mugwort, with occasional remnants of burnt‑out villages.

Blackened wooden frames lay like the desiccated bones of a beast, silently speaking of war's cruelty.

Scattered refugees trudged with their families, faces yellow and thin, eyes numb, staggering toward what they hoped was safety.

"Boss, this territory is even less peaceful than ours."

Beside him, a sharp‑eyed man named Zhao Dayan lowered his voice; he was the leader of the five‑man squad, exceptionally alert.

Chen Wen gave a slight nod, saying nothing.

In chaotic times, the world is a furnace and human lives are firewood.

He had seen far too much already.

But each time he witnessed it firsthand, his resolve to end it all grew stronger.

His "Cow Horse System" could hasten a town's prosperity, yet it could not cure the world's deep‑seated ills.

Perhaps, as that Later Han Envoy said, they needed a larger platform and a sharper "sword".

At noon.

A simple tea stall appeared by the road ahead.

The thatched roof leaned askew, as if One Gust could blow it away.

Several of them decided to rest here and water their horses.

While they were at it, they asked about the road ahead.

The tea stall was deserted except for them; only another group sat in the corner.

About seven or eight, all sturdy men in matching blue‑gray uniforms, weapons at their waists.

Though they seemed to sit casually, their eyes continually swept the surroundings, revealing a trained sharpness.

They surrounded a middle‑aged man who looked like a steward, his bearing calm and steady.

The man's face was ordinary.

Yet the opening and closing of his eyes carried an innate, unangered authority; he was slowly sipping coarse tea.

Chen Wen's gaze met his for a moment, then both naturally looked away.

But his heart stirred:

These people were not ordinary merchant guards.

Just then, cries and shouts came from ahead on the official road.

Five or six burly, servant‑like men were shoving a ragged‑clad father and daughter.

The old man knelt, begging desperately; the girl trembled with fear, clutching her father's arm.

A thin, tall steward‑type lifted his chin and shouted:

"...... You owe Master Liu rent; taking your daughter as payment is just and proper!"

"Keep nagging and I'll break your dog legs!"

The tea stall owner shrank back behind the stove, afraid to speak.

The men in blue‑gray uniforms furrowed their brows.

The leading middle‑aged man in the center lightly tapped the table, taking no immediate action.

A flicker of coldness passed through Chen Wen's eyes.

Jiao Tu Zhen's laws were strict, having long abolished such abducting of women, yet the outside world remained a realm of the strong devouring the weak.

If he intervened, complications would surely arise, exposing his whereabouts.

But if he stood by and did nothing, how could his heart be at peace?

He pondered briefly, gave Zhao Dayan a look, and spoke softly:

"Just scare them off; don't hurt anyone, and don't leave traces."

Zhao Dayan understood, jerking his chin at the two brothers beside him.

The two rose without a word, pretending to fetch water bags from the saddle.

But using the horses as cover, they silently picked up a few handy stones.

Just as the thin, tall steward reached out to grab the girl,

"Whoosh"—a light sound of tearing air.

A stone struck his hand‑back precisely, making him cry "Aiyo" and pull his hand back.

Immediately, several more stones flew.

Some hit the servants' knee joints, others struck their shoulder‑blade points.

The force was skillful—non‑lethal yet causing sore numbness.

The servants instantly yelped in pain, tumbling into a confused heap, looking around in startled uncertainty.

Is there… an ambush?

The thin, tall steward covered the back of his hand and shouted, stern on the outside but weak within.

Who's so blind as to dare meddle in the Liu mansion's affairs?!

Zhao Dayan then sauntered over and stepped in front of that father and daughter.

He cupped his fists, smiled, and said:

Sirs, abducting a woman in broad daylight isn't proper, is it?

On this official road, with many passersby and mixed eyes, if a fuss breaks out, I fear it'll harm Master Liu's reputation.

His tone was courteous, yet his build stood before them like a mountain, his gaze sharp.

Those few servants had suffered a secret loss and couldn't fathom the other side's strength.

Seeing another formidable group at the tea stall, their arrogance instantly deflated.

The thin, tall steward glared fiercely at Zhao Dayan and the father and daughter.

After throwing down the harsh words 'You'll wait and see,' he led his men away resentfully.

The father and daughter, having escaped death, kowtowed several times toward Zhao Dayan, Chen Wen, and the others.

Hurriedly gathering the scattered, tattered luggage, they stumbled away into a side path by the road.

Chen Wen remained seated in his spot the whole time.

As if it were none of his business, he leisurely sipped the coarse tea in his bowl.

But he keenly noticed the other corner of the tea stall.

That remarkable‑bearing 'Guard Captain' rested his gaze on him and Zhao Dayan for a moment.

He gave a barely perceptible nod, and a hint of faint appreciation seemed to flit across the corner of his mouth.

The disturbance subsided, and the tea stall returned to a brief calm.

The two groups each drank tea, with no interaction.

But the air seemed to carry a faint, unspoken understanding.

Chen Wen secretly thought:

This southwest journey certainly won't be lonely.

He set down his tea bowl, tossed a few copper coins, rose, and said, 'Let's go—we need to hurry.'

The six mounted their horses and continued along the official road toward the southwest.

Behind them, the group of men in blue‑gray sturdy attire also rose one after another to settle their bill.

Neither far nor near, they took the road heading the same way.

The setting sun stretched their shadows long, merging them on the ancient road.

As if foretelling some fate's trajectory, they began to quietly overlap.