Chapter 33: Unpleasant Journey

Pan Yun gripped the rope with a blank expression, trying to steady herself, when the cart hit a series of small potholes and jolted up and down.

After a loud thud as it sank into a pit, Pan Yun naturally released her grip—and her whole body was flung outward…

She landed firmly on the ground, stood up, saw silver stars flickering before her eyes, and took a long moment to shake off the dizziness. When she looked ahead, the mule cart had already rumbled far away.

Pan Yun: …

She saw the black cat bouncing up and down on the cart roof; when it spotted her landing, it let out a series of startled cries, several times trying to leap down after her, only to realize it had no foothold.

Pan Xiaohei: …

Who would’ve thought? It could walk as easily on rafters as on flat ground, climb roofs and leap into ditches—but couldn’t jump off a mere mule cart.

Tao Ji heard the cat’s shrill cries, waved the reins while shouting: “Stop yelling! This stretch’s just rough—once we pass ahead, it’ll be smooth. You won’t sit in my lap, so I don’t even mind you scratching me…”

Tao Ji mumbled on, but Xuan Miao’s heart stirred; he suddenly leaned forward to look back—and Pan Yun was gone.

Tao Ji jumped in shock, yanked the mule to a halt, leapt down, and rushed to the rear, shouting: “She’s run off again!”

“Sister, didn’t you say you’d convinced her? Why’s she run off again?”

Xuan Miao: “Shut up. Turn around. Go back and find her!”

“Will we even find her?” Though he muttered this, Tao Ji quickly turned the mule around and hurried back—the already bumpy cart grew bumpier still.

Fortunately, the black cat had already jumped down while he stopped and sprinted ahead.

Pan Yun walked a few steps along the roadside, decided it wasn’t worth enduring such discomfort, and sat down on a patch of clean grass to wait for them to come back.

Tao Ji hurried the cart back, saw Pan Yun sitting quietly by the roadside, and pulled the mule to a stop with a sharp “Whoa—.” The two stared at each other across seven or eight small pits.

Tao Ji sighed in relief and asked gently: “Why did you get off?”

Pan Yun’s face was expressionless: “You tell me.”

Pan Xiaohei leapt into Pan Yun’s arms and meowed at Tao Ji.

In the end, Pan Yun hugged the black cat and squeezed in beside them up front; Tao Ji sat in the middle, squashed into a lump. He said: “When we reach the next post station, I’ll reorganize the cart and make room for you.”

Pan Yun snorted: “Does Mount Sanqing have nothing for sale? Why buy things from so far away?”

Tao Ji sighed: “You’ll understand after living on the mountain for two years.”

Pan Yun felt a bad premonition and turned to Xuan Miao: “At the next stop, I want to send a letter and money to my father.”

Xuan Miao thought for a moment and agreed.

They had traveled for days and were now far from Beijing and Kaifeng Prefecture; no one should be watching them anymore.

Though she thought so, before Pan Yun exchanged money, Xuan Miao still cast a divination—and only after confirming it was auspicious did they go to the money shop.

“How much silver note do you want to exchange?”

Pan Yun thought, uncertain whether the money would reach them safely, and said: “First, exchange one hundred taels.”

That’s one pan.

Silver converted to silver notes, then entrusted to the money shop for delivery—of course, with a handling fee.

It was Pan Yun’s first time ever sending money. After confirming the five percent handling fee, she handed over all the silver notes and took the receipt.

That night, Pan Yun stayed at the inn, troubled over how to write the letter so it wouldn’t arouse suspicion, yet still make her father know it was her.

Sigh. It was her own fault—she’d been too well-behaved for the past eight years and never set any secret code with her father.

Pan Yun could only write: Old Pan, long time no see. When I heard news of you, I learned you’d been exiled to Datong—my heart aches deeply…

Under the name of an old friend, Pan Yun wrote that she now dwelled in deep mountains cultivating Dao, eating well, living well, and growing healthier day by day; he should rest easy, write often when nothing’s wrong, and write even more urgently when something is.

In the letter, she told him she had sent money through the Changde Money Shop; he could collect it by presenting the receipt and matching the message.

As for the message, Pan Yun wrote: “The name of my poor, beloved, deceased niece.”

When signing, Pan Yun paused, then wrote: “Sanzhu.”

As a child, she was always sick and obsessed with cultivation—unable and unwilling to go out.

Her two older brothers wanted to take her out to play but dared not; in their torment, the three siblings often talked about how, once she recovered, they’d take her to do all sorts of things.

This world imposed heavy restrictions on women, especially daughters of officials; to truly enjoy oneself outside, dressing as a man was best.

Her second brother not only prepared boy’s clothes, hats, and shoes for her, but gave her many names—all bearing “three,” since she was the third child; all were terribly ugly.

Sigh. Too many names were a nuisance, but since they were all written down, if her two brothers weren’t fools, they’d understand.

Pan Yun placed the receipt inside the letter, sealed the envelope, and, accompanied by Xuan Miao and Tao Ji, went to the Minxin Bureau to mail it.

Tao Ji walked beside Pan Yun and warned her: “Did you write the address of Mount Sanqing? There’s no Minxin Bureau beneath Mount Sanqing—only emergency relay stations.”

The Minxin Bureau was a private postal service, thriving in Jiangnan, with branches nationwide—including Datong. It delivered letters swiftly and conveniently.

This was a Minxin Bureau in Guangxin Prefecture. They chose it over the official relay station as a final test.

No one knew if the Embroidered Uniform Guard in Beijing suspected the Pan family; for these past two months, to avoid suspicion, she deliberately avoided contact with them.

If all went well, her second uncle should have returned to his hometown in Changzhou Prefecture. If not, he might still be stranded in Beijing.

Pan Yun looked at Xuan Miao. Xuan Miao met her gaze calmly.

Pan Yun grinned and said sweetly: “Immortal Master Xuan Miao, after we leave the Minxin Bureau, may I treat you to a meal? These past two months have been exhausting for you, running back and forth for my safety.”

Xuan Miao calmly looked away and quickened her pace: “Let’s go.”

Beside them, Tao Ji widened his eyes, hurried ahead of Pan Yun by one step, and kept glancing back.

Pan Yun frowned at him, annoyed by his hesitant, speechless demeanor, and stepped past him: “If you have something to say, say it. If not, shut your face.”

“Hey,” Tao Ji caught up from behind. “What do you mean, ‘shut your face’?”

“The face is for seeing. The mouth is for speaking. Yet you’re using your face to speak.”

Tao Ji paused, gathered his breath, and hurried after her again, indignant: “Why do you only invite Sister, not me? I’ve worked just as hard these past two months.”

Pan Yun thought, then asked sincerely: “Can you find out about my second uncle’s family?”

Tao Ji blinked, then shook his head: “A thousand li from Beijing? How can I find out?”

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Pan Yun: “Then forget it.”

Tao Ji realized it at last, fell silent for a long while—he’d thought she was being sweet to Xuan Miao, but she’d only been seeking a favor.

Still, Sister could indeed find out about Pan Tao’s family.

The Minxin Bureau was busy; one clerk was receiving letters at the counter, while others sorted mail in the back.

An old woman’s envelope was poorly written; the clerk was rewriting it for her. Seeing Pan Yun’s trio enter, he warmly greeted: “Honored guests, please wait a moment.”

After finishing the old woman’s envelope and collecting it, he turned to them: “Three honored guests—do you wish to send a letter or an item?”

Pan Yun’s eyes brightened: “You can send items too?”

The clerk nodded with a smile: “We can send anything.”

Tao Ji immediately stopped her: “Don’t send anything unusual—it’s expensive. They have money; what can’t they buy over there?”

Pan Yun glanced at him: “What if you send a person?”

The clerk paused, then said: “That’s not hard. Our neighbor runs a security escort agency. Where are you sending them?”

Pan Yun now understood: travelers typically joined a security escort agency. She pulled out the letter: “I’m sending a letter.”

The clerk warmly attended to her.

Seeing her detailed address, he calculated the fee: “To Datong, the delivery fee is fifty-five cash. Would you like to pay for guaranteed delivery?”

The country bumpkin Pan Yun asked: “What’s guaranteed delivery?”

The clerk smiled: “It ensures your letter or item reaches the recipient safely. If damaged or lost, the Minxin Bureau compensates.”

He gazed hopefully at Pan Yun—would she send an item?

Pan Yun didn’t send an item, but she still paid for guaranteed delivery.

The fee for one letter was small. After collecting it, the clerk stamped the envelope with a different-colored seal and placed it alone in another box.

Letters with guaranteed delivery were set apart and given special protection.

Pan Yun watched, thoroughly satisfied, and asked: “How many days until it reaches Datong?”

The clerk smiled: “At most seven days. If fast, five days.”

Pan Yun relaxed. After leaving the Minxin Bureau, she began searching for a restaurant to treat Xuan Miao.

Xuan Miao was too lazy to bother. Knowing her intent, she said directly: “Give me the money you’d spend on the meal. Consider it already paid.”

Pan Yun looked troubled: “That’s not right—treating someone is to build goodwill…”

“We still have a way to go before Yushan County. The road ahead is rough. I don’t want to delay. I’ll go find out the news for you right away.”

Pan Yun immediately pulled out money, her face beaming: “Thank you, Immortal Master.”

She shoved a string of coins into Xuan Miao’s hand. Seeing Xuan Miao accept it without complaint, her smile grew even brighter.

Tao Ji looked away, unable to bear it. Pan Xiaohei also meowed and turned its head.

Xuan Miao didn’t want to delay. She turned on her heel: “I’ll go find someone. You two eat and shop. Meet back at the mule cart in one hour.”

Pan Yun and Tao Ji exchanged glances. Neither wanted to treat the other, so they turned straight to a steamed bun shop, bought a few buns, and ate their own purchases.

Pan Yun ate while wandering. Tao Ji fed Pan Xiaohei a bite, kept glancing at her: “You’re… a lady of the inner chambers?”

Pan Yun: “My family has no ladies. My father’s just a censor—poor. We rent our house. Only one servant in the whole household. Every month, my second uncle, who teaches, has to support us. Do I look like a rich man’s child?”

Tao Ji nodded: “Indeed, you don’t look like one at all.”

He looked around: “What are we even shopping for? I’ve bought everything. Let’s just go back to the cart.”

Walking all day had tired him.

Pan Yun: “I need to buy cinnabar.”

Today and tomorrow’s lucky numbers end in 1. Screenshot as proof. Join the group “The Eccentric Ming” and ask Mo Yan for your reward.

(End of Chapter)