Chapter 143: 138 Wushu Bao

After a while, the girl who had been rescued woke up.

Having passed out inexplicably after drinking tea, only to wake up and find all the familiar faces gone and a group of strangers surrounding her, the girl was so frightened she nearly burst into tears. Immediately, Tang Zhao stepped forward and explained the situation with the black shop one by one. Upon hearing this, although the girl still shed tears, she quickly calmed down.

The commoners of Lingzhou were very resilient in this regard, or perhaps, very capable of enduring.

Although being drugged in this black shop was an accident, in Lingzhou, being killed by bandits on the road was truly not a rarity, and the death of one or two relatives was an even more common occurrence.

According to the girl, she was from Wushu Bao, a few dozen miles away, and was on her way to visit her grandmother when she encountered the black shop and met with this mishap. Generally, in the Lingzhou territory, especially in the countryside, a young woman would certainly not dare to go out casually. She was not alone; she was traveling with an uncle from the same village. This uncle had practiced martial arts since childhood, and three or five ordinary petty thieves could not even get close to him. Furthermore, country folk were poor and had nothing worth stealing, so they generally did not attract bandits. Moreover, this small shop had not just opened yesterday; in the past, when that uncle passed by alone, he had also gone in to eat and drink tea without being robbed. He never expected to encounter such a thing today.

Tang Zhao and the others asked where her hometown was. It turned out to be just a few dozen miles ahead, and since they were passing by, they decided to escort her back.

Along the way, Tang Zhao chatted with her about local customs. The girl was not very worldly and only knew about things around her, but seeing that Tang Zhao and the others were young and looked kind—even Wusun Tong had thick eyebrows, large eyes, and a steady appearance, making them seem trustworthy—she gradually lost her shyness and spoke of many things.

According to her, there were still quite a few commoners in this area. After all, someone had to farm the fields, and even mountain bandits had to eat; they couldn't all starve to death. It was just that there were indeed many wandering bandits, so the commoners had to travel in groups when going out and build stockades to protect themselves at home.

Actually, Yunzhou was the same; there were no scattered households in the countryside, only large villages and towns, protected by high walls and deep moats. It was just that in Yunzhou, it was mostly to guard against Fierce Beasts crossing the border and various Yin Calamities, rather than specifically guarding against bandits openly entering villages to burn, kill, and loot. Lingzhou also guarded against Fierce Beasts, but more importantly, it guarded against the ubiquitous mountain bandits.

Precisely because of this, the martial atmosphere in Lingzhou was even stronger than in Yunzhou; almost every village had to learn martial arts. Children had to learn, and adults had to learn during the farming off-season; even the girl herself knew a move or two of fisticuffs. However, firstly, the village had limited surplus grain and even less meat, so they could not afford to support many Martial Artists. Secondly, ordinary villages lacked good martial arts inheritances; those village-style techniques were mostly shallow and crude, and practicing them easily led to injury. Therefore, villages and stockades usually concentrated their resources to support a few Strongmen and experts.

In Lingzhou, whether a village had experts sitting in town was a matter of life and death. If they had their own heroes, not only would petty thieves not dare to invade, but even the tribute given to the lords of the mountain stockades would be less.

Yes, all villages and towns had to pay tribute to nearby mountain stockades. Those stockades also understood the principle of not draining the pond to catch the fish; they had no scruples about robbing and killing passing merchants, but they collected tribute from surrounding villages and towns. Once enough tribute was collected, some of the more lenient stockades could even provide a certain degree of protection, such as sending men to exterminate Fierce Beasts when they attacked. But for those who did not pay enough tribute, they would kill the chicken to warn the monkey, slaughtering the village and killing people without the slightest hesitation.

The girl said proudly that their Wushu Bao was the strongest village in the vicinity, with a population of over a thousand and several powerful Strongmen. There was even a Knight-Errant surnamed Sang. That Knight-Errant was not from a famous family, but he was born with Divine Power and had encountered fortuitous events, training to possess refined Internal Energy. He was considered outstanding among Knight-Errants, not inferior to the several chieftains of the nearby Jiming Mountain Bandit stronghold. Because of him, the protection money the stockade collected from them was much lower than from other families, and even if they were late for a while, they would not pursue it too strictly.

Moreover, that Knight-Errant was a man of integrity. In other villages, there were always youths who secretly went up the mountain to join the bandits, and the villages mostly tacitly approved, hoping the youths would make a name for themselves and bring benefits to the village, but such things did not happen in Wushu Bao. The Knight-Errant warned the children that to learn martial arts, one must first learn how to be a person; he would rather spend money to send children to large martial arts schools to learn skills than let them become bandits.

Tang Zhao heard this and said, "Won't he be hated by the bandits for doing this?"

The girl said, "Of course. They hate Brother Sang to death. Brother Sang says that being hated by evil people means we are doing the right thing. Besides, they can't beat Brother Sang."

The girl spoke naively. Tang Zhao knew it was not that simple, but he admired such a person. In the midst of filth, not only could he keep himself clean, but he could also protect the local people; that was a great virtue indeed.

The girl's pace was not fast, and Tang Zhao and the others did not urge her, arriving at Wushu Bao only when it was evening.

Before Wushu Bao, high walls stood tall, moats were filled with water, and there were arrow towers at the four corners; it was truly like a fortress. The girl entered through the main gate, but Tang Zhao and the others were stopped outside.

The girl said anxiously, "Uncle Yang, they are good people."

The uncle guarding the gate said, "Good people or bad people, outsiders cannot enter anyway. If you want them to enter the village, go talk to Brother Sang."

The girl said, "Of course I'm going to find Brother Sang." She then said to Tang Zhao and the others, "You wait a moment; as soon as I tell Brother Sang, he will know." After saying this, she slipped inside.

Tang Zhao and his group naturally did not insist on staying in this village; they had tents, but who knew how many scumbags would sneak in to raid at night in this Lingzhou? Staying in the village would indeed save some trouble—provided this was not another bandit den wearing a human skin.

After waiting for a moment, the gate opened, and a young man walked out with large strides.

The young man was about twenty-seven or twenty-eight years old, with a simple and upright appearance. Compared to Wusun Tong, he had a bit more of a rustic, earthy air. He wore coarse cloth short-garments, looking like a farmer who had just returned from the fields.

However, looking closely, his waist and back were straight, his gaze was bright, his muscles were solid, and especially his footsteps were steady, showing a good foundation. A connoisseur would know at a glance that this was a practitioner with outstanding martial arts.

Tang Zhao looked him over and suddenly thought of Guan Lei. Although their builds were quite different, their style of external training should be similar. Among Tang Zhao's teachers, Guan Lei was not the strongest, but he was the most normal one, and he was also Tang Zhao's mentor in the Martial Dao. The teacher-student relationship was very good. Having been separated for several years and worlds apart, seeing a shadow of him now, he could not help but feel a sense of affinity.

The young man also looked at the four people, and the more he looked, the more shocked he became. His knowledge was better than others, but he had never seen such elegant figures, especially the two handsome youths, whose temperament was outstanding, surpassing even the young masters of the great clans in the city.

How could such people be bandits?

Even if they were bandits, was his village worthy of being robbed by them?

Thinking of this, he relaxed his vigilance, smiled, stepped forward, cupped his hands in a salute, and said, "Distinguished guests have arrived, and I have failed to welcome you from afar. Sang Jialiang is here to apologize."

Tang Zhao and the others returned the salute, and Sang Jialiang enthusiastically invited them into the village to rest.

He confirmed that Tang Zhao and the others were good people, and everyone, including the uncle guarding the gate, suddenly relaxed, with smiles on their faces. It was clear that all the old and young in the village trusted Sang Jialiang's judgment immensely.

Passing through the thick walls, the village elders stood inside to welcome them, and children from all over the street gathered to watch the novelty. Tang Zhao saw that the houses in the village were packed one after another, very crowded. Most of them were thatched huts with grass roofs and earthen walls, quite simple. It was clear that the village had many people and little land, and was not wealthy. Apart from this, the paths were interconnected, and the sounds of chickens and dogs could be heard; it was quite peaceful.

Tang Zhao had never seen a village in Lingzhou. If it were Yunzhou, such a village would be considered poor.

Sang Jialiang took them to his home to rest. His house also had earthen walls, only a bit more spacious than others, with a few tiles on the roof. Inside the house, there was no decent furniture or decoration, but it was cleaned thoroughly. In the inner room, there was a half-sized earthen kang with a table on it. Sang Jialiang let them sit on the kang and turned to go out to prepare food.

Both Yunzhou and Lingzhou were in the north, and there were earthen kangs in the dwellings. Tang Zhao skillfully took off his shoes and got on the kang. Wusun Tong and the others found it novel; they mostly lived in felt tents in Liangzhou and did not have earthen kangs, but they followed suit and sat up. A little girl came in and served them each a bowl of oil-flour tea.

Tang Zhao took a sip of the oil-flour tea and felt it was steaming hot, with the fragrance of grain hitting his nose, which was very comfortable.

Moreover, it was clean and safe, with absolutely no additives.

After drinking a large bowl of flour tea, he heard chickens chirping incessantly outside. It turned out that Sang Jialiang was raiding the chicken coop, clearly intending to kill a chicken to treat the guests. Tang Zhao got off the kang and went out, saying, "Please don't go to the trouble. We don't eat chicken, especially my senior brother... he doesn't eat things with wings."

Jiang Shenyi heard this and poked his head out from the window, saying, "That's right, my junior brother also has a weak stomach and cannot eat fine grains. Just let him eat the coarsest steamed buns later."

Sang Jialiang held the chicken and said, "You are the ones who shouldn't be polite. We raise chickens just to eat them. If we don't treat heroes like you who act bravely for a just cause, should we let them go to the Jiming Mountain Bandits who come to make trouble in the village someday? Don't look at their name, Jiming Mountain; they are very fierce about eating chicken. Hmph, Jiming Mountain—us eating chicken is just like biting the flesh of the bandits."

As he spoke, he raised his hand and brought the knife down, ending the life of a large rooster.

There were no women in Sang Jialiang's home, so the village elders helped call a village woman with good cooking skills to stew the rooster, picked some sprouts and mushrooms to stew a large pot, specially steamed a pot of white flour buns, and took out a jar of home-brewed cloudy wine to treat the guests. The village elders and several martial arts experts in the village, along with Sang Jialiang, accompanied them for the meal.

While eating and drinking, it was inevitable to chat. After a few bowls of cloudy wine, the village elder's face turned red, and he opened up, asking, "Where do the distinguished guests come from?"

Tang Zhao did not hide it and said, "We are from Yunzhou, and these two are from Liangzhou."

The village elder gave an 'oh' and praised, "Yunzhou is a good place. When I was young, I heard that it was particularly wealthy there? Everyone has food and drink, and is carefree?"

Tang Zhao pondered and said, "That can't be said either. It's better in the city, but in the countryside, it's just enough to keep warm and fed." At least three years ago, when he followed Xing Ji to the countryside, the commoners only had coarse tea and plain rice, and having a peck of surplus grain to exchange for a new set of clothes at the end of the year was considered a good year.

It was said that it had been better in the last two years, at least the weather had been favorable for several years, and there had been no natural or man-made disasters. But since ancient times, even in a peaceful and prosperous age, the common people of the world would not dare to say they were free from worries about food and clothing.

Sang Jialiang said in a muffled voice, "But it's peaceful over there, right? There aren't so many god-damned bandits?"