Chapter 255: Various Trivial Matters

Liu Zhuang has been lingering in Jingyun City for a considerable time.

This is not his first time arriving in the city.

Yet, no matter how keenly he investigates, covertly or overtly, and mobilizes forces from all sides, Chi Xiao has vanished as if evaporated from the Human World, and he cannot find any concrete trace.

He stands alone beside the railing of the highest tower in the city, hands clasped behind his back, his gaze piercing the swirling falling snow and reaching toward the lead‑gray, low‑hanging clouds on the horizon.

The snowflakes cling to his brows and robe sleeves, bringing a faint chill, yet far less than the deep confusion in his heart.

He furrows his brow slightly, his eyes full of incomprehension, murmuring softly, his voice almost lost in the wind and snow: "Chi Xiao… where did he go? Where did that person go?"

"It is clear that Jian Er met him in this city and personally witnessed such marvels…"

"I have been searching here for a long time… yet still gained nothing…"

He shakes his head, suppresses the chaotic thoughts for the moment, turns to the attendant who has been respectfully waiting beside him, and his tone regains the emperor's composure and decisiveness:

"Prepare the carriage and set out for Luoyang."

The attendant immediately bows and replies, "Yes! I will arrange it at once."

Before long, a uniquely crafted carriage drawn by four extraordinary Dragon Horses is ready.

These Dragon Horses carry a trace of dragon blood within them; their hooves thunder like drums, leaving no trace on the snow, and their speed far surpasses that of ordinary steeds.

Liu Zhuang steps onto the carriage; the cabin is warm as spring, its furnishings elegant.

With a light rebuke from the driver, the convoy slowly sets off, leaving Jingyun City, following the official road toward the imperial capital Luoyang at a rapid pace.

The wheels crush the snow‑covered road, emitting a screeching sound.

Liu Zhuang leans against the soft brocade cushion, half‑closing his eyes, appearing to rest his spirit, yet still subtly perceiving everything around him.

As an emperor, he naturally cultivates.

It is the technique he learned from the Teacher of Gaozu back in the day, refined by Gaozu and many qi‑refining masters; today, if not the foremost, it can be counted among the top three of the age.

However, though his imperial way is profound, his cultivation is truly lacking; compared with disciples of the great sects, he would likely be defeated within three moves.

Perhaps Heaven does not permit an emperor to attain Longevity… even a Qin Emperor cannot achieve Longevity.

As the convoy leaves Jingyun City, about a dozen li away, passing through a barren, snow‑covered forest—

Liu Zhuang's half‑closed eyes snap open!

A flash of brilliance flashes in his pupils, like lightning in the dark night!

He keenly perceives, in a specific direction behind his side, an extremely subtle wave that, though hidden, resonates faintly with the Jade Pendant in his chest used to sense Chi Xiao Sword Qi, and it suddenly emerges!

"It has manifested!"

He blurts out, his voice tinged with uncontrollable astonishment and certainty.

With virtually no hesitation, he immediately issues a deep command toward the outside of the carriage, his tone leaving no room for doubt:

"Turn back! Head there at once!"

The guard riding the Dragon Horses reacts instantly; though he does not understand, the imperial command is as solid as a mountain.

Only a slightly hurried sound of reins and wheels turning is heard, and without hesitation they abandon the route back to Luoyang, heading toward the direction Liu Zhuang indicated!

Dong Lao Han had taken his last breath two days ago.

He lay there, gaunt and quiet, while Dong Yong kept vigil at the bedside, shedding not a single tear.

Perhaps before departing, the emaciated hand of Dong Lao Han grasped him, whispering the breath‑like "Do not cry", and he truly forced the tears back, his eyes aching and throat tightening.

The body has not yet been buried.

In recent days, hiring a physician and buying medicine have already drained the meager savings he earned over the years by chopping wood.

The family is penniless; even a simple coffin now seems a luxury.

Dong Yong crouches at the low doorway of his home, his gaze crossing the muddy yard, fixed on the blue‑brick manor not far away that stands out among the surrounding thatched mud houses.

It is the estate of Dong Fu, Lord Dong, the biggest landlord of Dongjia Village.

Lord Dong is not overly harsh; in lean years he still distributes porridge and rice, making him a rare "good person" in the village.

The cold wind blows, stirring a few dead leaves and falling snow, striking his thin clothing.

He feels no cold; his heart is a dead, numb silence.

He stared at the manor for a long, long time, his eyes filled with struggle, and finally let out a long sigh.

He slowly stands, patting the snow‑soaked, dusty trousers.

The movement is a bit stiff, as if a resolve has been made.

He glances back one last time at the silent interior silhouette of the house.

Then, he steps forward, walking toward the manor, one step at a time.

He intends to sell himself, exchange a few strings of cash, so his father can be laid to rest.

Dong Yong arrives at the imposing blue‑brick manor's gate, hesitates briefly, then lifts his hand to ring the door knocker.

"Who's there?" a voice calls from inside.

Not long after, the main door creaks open a crack, and a doorman peeks out.

Seeing Dong Yong, he shows a hint of understanding on his face: "Dong Yong, you're here…?"

Dong Yong tries to force a smile to lighten the atmosphere, but his cheeks feel frozen.

He can only lower his head, avoiding the other's gaze, his voice so light it almost gets carried away by the wind: "My father… has passed. The family truly… truly cannot afford to bury him."

He pauses, inhales, then utters the hardest words: "So… I came to ask Lord Dong whether the household…"

The doorman, hearing this, drops the polite façade, sighs: "Ah… wait here, I'll take you inside."

He steps aside to clear the passage.

Dong Yong quickly thanks: "Thank you."

The doorman waves his hand: "Come in quickly, as a neighbor, we'll help if we can."

Dong Yong steps into the grand courtyard that feels like another world to him, hearing the heavy thud of the closing gate behind, his heart sinking with it.

He lowered his head, followed the gatekeeper through the courtyard, and walked toward the warm, bright main house.

Dong Fu sat beside the charcoal brazier in the main house, warmth suffusing.

Seeing the gatekeeper bring Dong Yong in, he lifted his eyelids, set down the warming pan in his hand, and asked, "What's the matter?"

The gatekeeper immediately stepped forward, bent over, and put on a fawning smile: "Lord Dong, it's Dong Yong."

"His father didn't make it through this winter at home; he's passed…… Now he wants to ask you, my lord, whether your household still hires long-term workers—he wishes to sell himself to bury his father."

Upon hearing this, Dong Fu stroked his neatly trimmed beard, pondered, and said: "Well then……"

After a brief moment of thought, he rose and paced into the inner room. Not long after, he emerged carrying a small wooden box.

He opened the box; inside lay neatly stacked, copious copper coins.

He handed the box to Dong Yong, his tone carrying a gracious leniency: "I, Dong Fu, have always revered filial sons above all. Now that a filial son is in trouble, how could I stand idly by?"

"Take this money, buy a proper burial for your father, and let him rest in peace."

He patted Dong Yong's shoulder, which was thick from years of labor but now trembled slightly.

"You needn't mention selling yourself."

"From now on, work for me for three years, and that will repay this wages—how does that sound?"

Having said that, he didn't wait for Dong Yong to say more, turned, sat back in the cushioned chair, and picked up the warming pan again.

Dong Yong lifted the heavy wooden box, then suddenly bowed deeply to Dong Fu.

"Thank you, Lord Dong! Your great kindness, Dong Yong…… I will remember it!"