Chapter 114

A small city in the Western Regions.

In this border town near the Zhou Empire, it was more prosperous than imagined; most of the people here were Zhou Empire traders and merchants.

After entering the city, Lu Fang and the others found a native Zhou citizen who spoke the local dialect and began showing the “scrolls” around town to ask questions.

This small town was tiny, yet the population was extremely dense.

Dozens of Zhou natives dressed in Western Regions style held up scroll after scroll, searching for the person depicted in the drawings.

In a crude stall selling roasted meat and naan.

“Young Master Fang, rest assured—anyone in the city who has seen the person in the drawing, my men will find them.”

A middle-aged man with a goatee, dressed in a Western Regions long robe, swore confidently.

This man was Hu Di, a well-known local guide and essentially the town’s all-knowing informant; seven out of ten guides here were his subordinates.

“We’ll be continuing our journey later, so please move quickly.”

Lu Fang paused, then added: “But don’t worry—if your men find the person in the drawing or any other clue, even if we’re gone, you can contact me via a transmission talisman. I’ll reward you handsomely.”

He then handed over a dozen silver notes.

Hu Di beamed and bowed deeply: “Then Young Master Fang, please wait here. I’ll gather every person in the city and spare no effort to find them.”

Xiao Tao frowned slightly, her expression serious:

“Master, you trust people too easily. What if this man takes the silver but does nothing? In my view, we should pay only after he delivers.”

Lu Ling chuckled and shook her head: “Even roasted lamb skewers can’t shut your mouth? You don’t understand—this Hu Di, by his attire and speech, is clearly a local leader with influence.”

“For a powerful group like this, reputation is everything.”

“If he takes the silver and does nothing, not only can we check around town to see if he’s actually working, but word would spread and ruin his name.”

“Once his reputation is ruined, he loses far more than any silver he’d gain.”

Lu Fang nodded in agreement and smiled: “The sandstorms and sun here are truly intense. I’ll stroll through the city later to check the situation and buy some essentials.”

“You two must stay close to Fourth Master, no matter what—don’t invite trouble.”

Zhou Yiyi, who was chewing naan and lamb skewers at the same time, mumbled: “Mm-hmm, if you see anything tasty, buy more. Drinks too.”

Lu Fang smiled and nodded. Fourth Master was easy to please—just good food and drink.

He gave Lu Ling a few more instructions before heading toward the eastern side of the small city.

Along the way, camel caravans filled the streets, alongside crowded stalls and shops showcasing Western Regions and Zhou Empire goods.

Just after Lu Fang passed one street, he saw someone holding a scroll, asking merchants and vendors on both sides.

Their inquiries were blunt and straightforward: any true clue about the person in the drawing would earn a high reward.

Only someone with local power could handle this—otherwise, people would flood them with false leads just to claim the bounty.

Lu Fang bought some distinctive, long-lasting food along the way. He had already purchased large quantities of daily necessities in storage bags while on the Zhou Empire’s border.

Still, storage bags were precious items.

For example, the camel caravan they joined likely had only five or six storage bags at most—and those were usually very small capacity ones.

So most essential travel supplies were carried by camels.

Lu Fang walked quickly and had toured the entire small city within an hour. Seeing everyone holding scrolls and asking questions, he nodded in relief.

If no one in the city recognized the woman in the drawing, there’d be no clue—but if anyone had seen her, someone would find her.

So far, the situation wasn’t promising.

But this was just a small border town in the Western Regions; they had prepared themselves for returning empty-handed.

…

“If I give you a clue about the woman in the drawing, your ‘Sand Camel Gang’ will pay a thousand taels?”

A drunken voice made Lu Fang stop. He turned toward the sound.

A drunken man, seemingly of mixed Han and Western Regions descent, swayed unsteadily, gripping the arm of a man holding a scroll and glaring.

“Where did this drunkard come from?”

The Sand Camel Gang member sharply yanked his arm—but the frail old drunkard merely swayed slightly.

The old drunkard gulped down several large swallows of liquor, then grinned: “What? Disrespecting old monk? Back then, I was a famous ascetic of the Buddha Kingdom.”

“Let go of me!”

The young Sand Camel Gang member snapped: “You? A drunkard claiming to be a Buddha Kingdom ascetic? Pfft!”

The old drunkard still clung to his arm, grinning: “Old monk doesn’t want to argue with you. I told you—I know the clue about the woman in the drawing. Give me a thousand taels, and it’s yours.”

The young man, furious, shook his arm repeatedly but couldn’t break free. Just as he was about to explode, a hand suddenly reached out and pressed onto the old drunkard’s wrist.

Before he could react, the hand pushed him aside, sending him stumbling backward—finally freeing him from the old man’s grip.

“Old man! You wait!”

The young Sand Camel Gang member spat a threat, bowed to Lu Fang in thanks, and hurried away.

“Arrogant bastards. Pfft!” The old drunkard spat a thick glob of phlegm. His drunken eyes, suddenly sharp, fixed on Lu Fang.

Lu Fang opened his hands and smiled: “Sir, to be honest, the Sand Camel Gang is working for me. If you truly have a clue about the woman in the drawing, I’ll pay you a thousand taels.”

The old drunkard kept claiming to be a Buddha Kingdom ascetic, but anyone could see he was drunk—no one would believe him.

Yet Lu Fang could sense the aura around him: a sixth-rank cultivator. Perhaps he truly was a Buddha Kingdom ascetic. Perhaps not.

Either way, listening wouldn’t hurt.

This sixth-rank monk didn’t seem like the type to fabricate a story just for a thousand taels.

What if he was telling the truth?

“Bring the thousand taels?”

The old drunkard gulped more liquor, swished it in his mouth, swallowed, belched, and extended a palm smeared with dirt.

Lu Fang raised an eyebrow and smiled: “If I give you the silver and your clue is fake—or you vanish—won’t I be the fool?”

The old drunkard’s eyes grew hazy again as he spoke in the local accent:

“If I tell you the clue and you run off with it to claim the reward, won’t I be the one cheated?”