Chapter 980

The horse I bought on the spot wasn’t good at all—a nag. Pan Yun had to whip its rump for a long time before it stirred; it was meant for pulling carts, tough enough for endurance but useless for speed.

Fortunately, the people ahead were in a carriage, and they weren’t moving fast either.

After coaxing the new companion for a long while, stroking its neck and offering it a piece of candy, the nag finally lifted its noble hoof and trudged forward, amid Pan Xiao’s snorting laughter.

Clip-clop,

Clip-clop.

Inside the carriage, the noble young master lifted the curtain to glance back, saw the horse stumbling aimlessly and the girl on its back nearly falling off several times, then let the curtain drop without another thought.

The other curtain was also pulled aside; a middle-aged man leaned out to look back, then lowered the curtain and said, “No harm done. Probably heading the same way. Don’t know whose child this is—couldn’t even prepare a proper horse, and even a donkey would’ve been better. Riding a nag out? Afraid of falling?”

No sooner had he finished speaking than a thud came from behind, loud enough to pierce even the rumbling of the carriage.

The carriage kept moving forward; out of respect for the girl’s dignity, no one turned to look.

Pan Yun climbed to her feet, brushed the dust off her backside, and stared silently at the horse.

Compared to the horse, her eyes were small.

Pan Yun exhaled, resigned, pulled out one last candy, held it to its mouth, then pulled it back, glaring at it: “This is the last one. If you don’t behave, I won’t mind eating horse meat.”

The horse snorted through its nostrils, turned its head away haughtily, ignoring her.

“Insulting me as stupid?” Pan Yun’s eyes narrowed: “Your legs may be weak, but your brain’s not? Don’t think I won’t kill you?”

A pressure descended; the horse’s legs trembled, its hooves shifted uneasily, its large eyes flickering with fear toward Pan Yun.

Pan Yun smiled at it: “Good. The Daoist can understand what you’re saying.”

The girl and the horse locked gazes for a moment; Pan Xiao leapt down from the horse’s back, crouched on Pan Yun’s shoulder, and urged: “Are you done? The carriage ahead’s almost out of sight.”

Hearing the cat speak human words, the nag startled, broke free from the pressure, reared up on its front hooves, and jumped twice in place.

Pan Yun yanked the reins, glared at it again, and the nag immediately bowed its head, knees bending slightly—in submission.

Pan Yun was satisfied.

A stick and a sweet—she placed the candy in its mouth, then climbed onto the horse, holding Pan Xiao.

The rest of the journey went smoothly.

They followed the carriage at a moderate distance, heading west, then turned north; by dusk, the carriage entered a large village.

Pan Yun pulled up at the village’s edge, flew up to a nearby small hill, and surveyed from above.

In the distance stood white walls and gray tiles, a cluster of undulating connected houses—a large village, roughly three to four Company Commander.

Such a large village was rare; it would need three or four village heads alone. If surrounded by walls, it would resemble a small town.

Outside this large village, within five li visible to the naked eye, several scattered clusters could be seen—each with just a few households, some thatched huts, others with gray tiles and white walls.

Right beneath the hill where Pan Yun stood were three households, spaced no more than a dozen steps apart.

It was dusk, the time for evening meals; smoke curled from chimneys, the fragrant scent of rice drifting with the air, and Pan Yun’s stomach growled loudly.

She instinctively pressed her hand against her belly.

Pan Xiao was also hungry, urging her: “This village is so big—just slip in anywhere. Can they even spot us?”

Pan Yun agreed: “Which house should we go to?”

“Whichever smells the most delicious.”

Pan Yun: “I think these three at the foot of the hill are fine.”

Pan Xiao: “...They look poor.”

“So what if they’re poor? As long as there’s rice—I’ve got meat!” Saying this, Pan Yun pulled from her spiritual realm a slab of pork, two pork ribs, and a packet of pastries.

Pan Xiao: “...Didn’t you buy these for Cao Jixiang this morning?”

Pan Yun: “I got so caught up talking, I forgot to give them to him.”

Pan Yun was very polite, very mindful of proper etiquette when visiting—how could she show up empty-handed when inquiring about tax revenues?

Unfortunately, she got so absorbed in conversation, she forgot to deliver the gift.

Pan Yun picked up the items in one hand, held the horse’s reins in the other, and headed down the other side of the hill: “But it wasn’t wasted—it’s still a proper gift now.”

At the foot of the hill, standing beneath a tree, Pan Yun studied the three households scattered in the corners.

All three had yellow mud walls and thatched roofs, each with three large rooms, and side rooms built on either side—also thatched, but with much smaller doors.

The courtyards were enclosed by bamboo fences, each about one-third of an acre—large and open.

Pan Yun thought it was acceptable.

All three emitted the fragrant scent of steamed rice; she thought a moment, then picked up three stones, closed her eyes, murmured twice: “Fusheng Wuliang Tianzun, may fortune favor me!”

She tossed the stones, glanced at them, and decisively pulled the nag toward the central household’s gate.

Darkness had fallen; the entire house was unlit, only the kitchen showed activity.

After knocking for a while, a boy of eight or nine ran out from the kitchen.

He glanced at Pan Yun, then turned and shouted toward the kitchen: “Sis, someone’s here?”

“Who is it?”

“I don’t know! Sis, come quick—she’s so beautiful!”

A girl of about twelve rushed out, wiping sweat from her face; she paused upon seeing Pan Yun, then politely asked: “Miss, who are you looking for?”

Pan Yun said: “I’m visiting relatives, but took a wrong turn. With night falling, I’d like to borrow shelter for the night—is it convenient?”

The girl wiped her hands, came forward to open the gate, and took a moment to study Pan Yun; seeing her kind face and gentle aura, she lowered her guard slightly. She peered down the road—empty, no one in sight—and asked: “Are you alone?”

Pan Yun nodded: “Yes, just me.”

The girl hesitated, then stepped aside to let her in: “You’ve got guts. Even if there are no bandits here, a young girl traveling alone is far too dangerous.”

The boy rushed over to help tie up the horse; once secured, he noticed the meat and pastries in Pan Yun’s hands, his eyes widening.

Pan Yun smiled and handed him the meat and pastries: “It’s hot, won’t keep long—consider this payment for lodging.”

The boy reached to take it, but his sister slapped his hand away.

The girl declined: “No need, no need. It’s cooled down now—leave it outside overnight, it’ll be fine.”

“I’ll buy fresh tomorrow. Meat tastes best freshly cooked. If left till tomorrow, it won’t just spoil—it might get stolen by rats or stray cats.”

The girl couldn’t refuse the meat, so she took it—but refused outright to keep the pastries.

Pan Yun didn’t press; when the girl carried the meat into the kitchen, she opened the paper and slipped one pastry to the boy.

The boy happily snatched it, biting off half in one gulp.

Pan Yun smiled: “I’m Pan Yun. What’s your name?”

The boy didn’t know how to write “Pan Yun,” barely understood it, and replied: “I’m Chunwang.” Pan Yun nodded with a smile: “And your sister?”

“I’m Chunlian.” The girl stood at the kitchen door, glared at her brother, and said: “Go get a bundle of rice straw to feed Pan Jie’s horse.”

Chunwang shoved the remaining half of the pastry into his mouth, mumbled an answer, and ran to the opposite room to fetch straw.

Chunlian brought out a stool and invited Pan Yun to sit: “Forgive us, Pan Jie—the night isn’t fully dark yet, so we haven’t lit the lamps.”

Pan Yun said it was fine; she could still see.

Watching Chunlian wash and chop meat in the courtyard, then send Chunwang to pick a basket of vegetables from the garden after feeding the horse,

Pan Yun rolled up her sleeves: “Let me help.”

Chunlian didn’t refuse.

Together they chopped meat, pounded ribs, picked and washed vegetables.

Seeing Pan Yun’s nimble, practiced movements, Chunlian quietly sighed in relief.

Pan Yun heard it, looked up, and smiled at her: “You thought I couldn’t do this?”

Chunlian: “I thought you were a noble lady.”

After all, she rode a horse.

Like owning a personal flying vessel in the 26th century.

Pan Yun laughed: “Rented. It’s a nag—so cheap.”

Chunlian asked: “Which village are your relatives in, Pan Jie?”

Pan Yun thought of villages near Quanzhou: “Bali Pu.”

“Ah, you took a wrong turn—that’s far from here. Walking would take a full day; even on horseback, it’d be much faster.”

Pan Yun smiled: “Have you been there?”

Chunlian shook her head: “No. My aunt married there. My grandmother took my brother to attend the wedding feast.”

Pan Yun: “Where are your family now?”

Chunlian tilted her chin toward the outside: “Still in the fields.”

Pan Yun turned to look—visibility was now less than five meters; night was nearly complete.

She looked up—the moon had risen, but thick clouds obscured it; moonlight barely pierced through, leaving the ground nearly dark.

She sensed the wind—perhaps after midnight the clouds would clear, and the full moon’s glow would turn the earth pale white.

Pan Yun turned her gaze back: “It’s so late—are they harvesting rice?”

Chunlian nodded: “After the big wind in June, we replanted a few fields. Now they’re ready.”

Pan Yun raised an eyebrow: “You replanted in June?”

“We thought it impossible, but my grandfather said, ‘If you don’t try, how will you know?’ Turned out it worked—even better than last year’s early harvest.”

Pan Yun was delighted: “Your grandfather dares to think and act—excellent!”

Hearing the praise, Chunlian beamed: “Grandfather says we owe this most to the Imperial Astronomical Bureau and the State Preceptor.”

“Oh?”

“The Imperial Astronomical Bureau predicted heavy winds in May. The State Preceptor sent word far and wide. Grandfather remembered last year’s storm and kept a small plot for seedlings, leaving it untouched.”

“When the wind hit, most rice fell over—but those seedlings, thick and strong, stayed upright. We uprooted the fallen rice, pulled out the dead stalks, and transplanted the seedlings. To our surprise, they took root—and grew faster than ever.”

Chunlian gestured with her hands and said, “When you plant it, it’s this long—it sprouts in half a month, then fills out with grain. My grandmother says it’s heaven’s blessing.”

Pan Yun murmured, “It’s because the fertilizer is plentiful and the sunlight is abundant, so it grows quickly.”

“My grandfather said the same thing—he also said our seedlings were grown long enough, and this is the first time we’ve planted them after such extended growth.”

Pan Yun asked, “How many people in the village plant this way?”

“Not many. When my grandfather first planted this way, only five families followed. But I think now that our crop has succeeded, next year many more will do the same.”

Chunlian said, “As long as the Imperial Astronomical Bureau keeps giving us weather forecasts, we’ll prepare in advance.”

Pan Yun smiled and asked, “What if the Imperial Astronomical Bureau gets it wrong?”

She replied, “Heavenly signs change in an instant—even immortals struggle to predict them accurately, let alone the Imperial Astronomical Bureau.”

“If they’re wrong, they’re wrong. A single field of seedlings only needs a pound or two of grain. We just save a little extra when we keep seed each year—it’s no big deal.”

Pan Yun nodded slightly and asked offhandedly, “If you don’t count the late rice, how’s this year’s harvest been after the natural disaster?”

“Not bad,” Chunlian said. “The imperial court waived half the land tax and half the head tax. Our family’s doing well—since the new grain came in, we’ve been eating white rice every day. That’s six days straight.”

Chunwang leaned over, staring at the meat, and added, “It’s like the New Year.”

Chunlian lifted the sliced meat in one hand and poked his forehead with the other. “Go away, always thinking about the New Year.”

“What’s wrong with the New Year? You get meat to eat.”

The brother and sister entered the kitchen—one tended the fire, the other stir-fried.

They had already been cooking; two dishes sat on the stove: stir-fried cabbage and winter melon with tofu.

Pan Yun brought the meat. Chunlian chopped another large piece of winter melon and ribs to stew, then stir-fried the greens with meat—two dishes instantly became four.

Chunlian thought for a moment, emptied the rice from the small pot into the large basin, then rinsed two bowls of rice and started steaming again.

Tonight’s meal was so good—they’d surely eat more rice. Better steam extra, especially with guests here…

Chunlian turned and saw Pan Yun standing by the door watching. She blushed. “I don’t know how to cook many dishes—just boiling and stir-frying.”

And only oil and salt.

Pan Yun smiled. “That’s already very good.”

Better than she was.

Chunwang added proudly, “My sister can weave! When winter comes, she works at the Gu family’s weaving mill—she earns more than any cook!”

“Sis, it’s fine if you can’t cook—I’ll do it. Next time you earn money to buy meat, I’ll cook for you.”

“Go, go, go! Grandfather said next spring he’s sending you to school. Stop thinking about the kitchen.”

As the siblings chatted merrily, a sound came from outside—a deep, cheerful voice called out: “Chunlian, guests have arrived! Steam two more bowls of rice! Chunwang, go fetch the cured meat hanging from the beam… Huh? Whose horse is this in the courtyard?”

Pan Yun peeked out from the kitchen and immediately saw Xue Shao and his servant entering behind the old man.

Pan Yun straightened up and stepped out of the kitchen.

Her gaze swept over Xue Shao, then she raised her hand in greeting to the elder. “Old man, I am Pan Yun. I’m visiting relatives and wish to stay overnight.”