Ziуu drоvе thе mulе cart draреd with cottоn cloth аnd оilсlоth, its jаngling аcсomрanied by swaying rаdish strips and сabbаgе leаves hаnging from thе cart, heading towаrd the citу gatе to assemble.
“Hahaha, little brothеr, are уou mоving house?”
Stеwаrd Wаng, who hаd hеаrd eаrlier that Ziуu hаd рrеpared manу things, saw that nоt оnlу was thе outside of thе mule саrt hе drоve lаden with items, but еven thе roof wаs tied with a lаrgе bundle of fоddеr.
“Неhe, Steward Wang, уоu flatter me. Since I’m bringing my уоunger sister alоng, I just wаnted tо рreрarе а bit morе.”
Ziyu smiled as he handed two silver ingots with several scratches to Steward Wang. If not for fear of drawing attention, he could have even used a double-horse carriage.
Steward Wang habitually weighed the silver ingots in his hand, confirmed they were correct, and stored them in the tube bag he carried on his back. He then circled the mule cart for a look.
“This design is quite good. The front can be propped open to block rain and snow, and the hooks at the back are also very practical, just right for securing the outer layer of oilcloth to the carriage.”
Steward Wang lifted the curtain and saw another layer of tightly stretched fine cotton cloth inside. More than half of the carriage was piled with belongings—this lad was quite thoughtful.
Seeing that everyone had arrived, Steward Wang boarded the carriage at the very front. The driver cracked his whip with a sharp snap, and the convoy slowly set off.
Ziyu, waiting at the side, counted twenty-eight carriages and mule carts in total, but twenty of them were empty. Following behind were five more carriages and mule carts.
There were thirty people on horseback accompanying the convoy, with two able-bodied men driving each cart. It could be considered a sizable merchant caravan.
The team members were all vigorous and spirited, clearly not to be trifled with.
Apart from Steward Wang, everyone in the merchant caravan wore matching black martial attire, each carrying a horsewhip, giving an impression of efficiency and toughness.
Ziyu, positioned at the very end, was fully armed, revealing only his eyes, mouth, and nose. He wore a large cotton hat, and a piece of oilcloth was fastened in front of him to block the wind.
The biting cold wind of early morning, mixed with the dust kicked up by the vehicles ahead, coated Ziyu’s blue cotton robe in a layer of gray.
…
At noon, the sky was overcast, and the north wind howled.
Pedestrians on the road turned sideways to avoid the wind and sand. The advancing convoy showed no signs of stopping; instead, it increased its speed.
Ziyu patted his empty, growling stomach, took the water pouch from his waist to drink, and shivered, feeling instantly refreshed.
[No wonder there are two drivers for each cart—what a miscalculation!]
“Brother, I need to pee!” Ziluo, her face flushed from holding it in, lifted a corner of the wind-blocking curtain in front and poked her little head out.
“Use the bedpan, the one tied in the corner. If you’re hungry, eat the snacks in your backpack.”
Ziyu nudged the curtain with his elbow, and Ziluo obediently lowered the small curtain, busying herself inside the carriage.
She reached into her cotton robe and pulled out a large steamed bun. Her eyes darted around before she took a bite, but a guard who happened to glance back couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at the sight.
…
At dusk, light snow began to fall, and the pedestrians and vehicles on the road grew increasingly sparse.
“Vehicles at the back, pick up the pace! We can rest after covering a bit more distance. The weather is bad, so stay safe!” a guard shouted as he rode his horse toward the rear.
Turning onto a small path, a village came into view in the distance. The group couldn’t help but quicken their pace against the wind.
The convoy did not enter the village but stopped near the water source at the village entrance.
After getting out of the carriage, Steward Wang took two guards into the village to greet the locals.
The convoy members busied themselves feeding the livestock, setting up pots for cooking, and pitching tents—everything was carried out in an orderly manner.
Ziyu jumped off the mule cart to stretch his somewhat frozen legs, his eyes scanning the surroundings.
“Mother, what kind of place is this? There’s clearly a village, so why aren’t we going in to seek lodging?”
“I really don’t want to camp out in the wild—it’s so unsafe!” a delicate young girl’s voice came from the large carriage ahead.
“Listen to your elder brother’s arrangements. When we reach the next town, Mother will find you the best inn to stay in.”
Ziyu listened to the clearly mother-daughter conversation and led the mule cart away from potential trouble. She had no fondness for inviting trouble upon herself.
All the good spots had been taken by the caravan, so Ziyu chose a location neither too close nor too far. She removed the sideboard, carried Ziluo down from the cart, unharnessed the mule, and gave it water and feed.
To prevent the cart from accidentally rolling away, she pulled a flower hoe from a hidden compartment and dug two shallow pits behind the wheels.
“Xiao Luo, keep an eye on the mule.”
Ziluo obediently stood guard in front of the mule, which had begun grazing on the grass, and didn’t cry even when her brother picked up a small wooden bucket to fetch water.
While Ziyu was busy drawing water from the nearby stream and filtering it, tending to the mule until it was full, and then re-harnessing it, an elderly man and a young man emerged from the village with torches, accompanied by Steward Wang.
Following them were seven or eight men and women carrying shoulder poles. In the torchlight, it was easy to make out firewood, fresh vegetables still caked with mud, small jars, and covered baskets.
“Everyone, stop what you’re doing. This is the village chief of Huanghua Village. He has a few words to share with everyone,” Steward Wang called out to the crowd.
“Greetings, everyone. Huanghua Village welcomes your arrival. Those in need may enter the village to seek lodging.
Please be careful with candles and torches tonight, and do not trample the crops.
Here are some firewood and food brought voluntarily by the villagers. We hope you’ll support us.
One more thing: please do not enter the village in the dark of night. The village has guards, and you will bear the consequences.”
The old man’s words, half gentle and half firm, were quite interesting to hear. Ziyu was the first to step forward and respond.
“Thank you for your trouble, Elder. I’d like a bundle of firewood and two cabbages. Do you have any eggs?”
“Haha, young man, you’re straightforward! Dunzi, hurry up and bring your goods over for the young man to choose from!”
The old man stroked his beard and shouted back with robust energy.
A simple and honest-looking middle-aged man hurried over with his shoulder pole, stopping in front of Ziyu and opening the lids.
“Young man, eggs are one copper coin each, cabbages are three copper coins each. Would you like some homemade pickled vegetables or spicy sauce?”
The seemingly simple middle-aged man introduced his products without the slightest hesitation.
Ziyu smiled and bought twenty eggs, two small jars of pickled vegetables, spicy sauce, two cabbages, and a bundle of thin-stick firewood.
“Thank you, young man. That comes to 51 copper coins. I’ll take 50 from you!”
Dunzi grinned with a simple expression, though a flicker of shrewdness flashed in his eyes.
Ziyu cheerfully counted out 50 copper coins and handed them to Dunzi. As she took her purchases and left, others crowded around, eager to buy.
In the end, the caravan bought up the remaining goods from the villagers. Everyone got what they needed and returned satisfied.
Along with the village chief, a horse-drawn carriage and a mule cart also left the village.
…
Ziyu lit a bonfire not far from the mule cart. By the time she buried a pot to cook, the caravan members were already eating.
She added two large spoonfuls of meat jelly to the boiling pot, along with finely shredded cabbage, and cracked three eggs into it.
Holding a palm-sized lump of dough in her left hand, she swiftly sliced noodles with a kitchen knife in her right. Ziluo, who was tending the fire by the stove, watched in amazement, her mouth agape.
“Xiao Luo, close your mouth—your teeth are about to fall out!” Ziyu teased.
Ziluo, her hands covered in soot, flushed red and clasped her hands over her chin, leaving a few black smudges as intended.
“Hahaha, Ziyu, you have quite the challenge being an elder brother!”
Steward Wang, drawn by the aroma, was genuinely impressed by how capable she was at such a young age—surpassing many grown men.
“Steward Wang, you flatter me. Since we’re alive, we might as well live well, especially with a little one who can’t do without me. If you don’t mind, come and try my cooking.”
“Haha, then I won’t stand on ceremony!”
As someone who traveled far and wide, Steward Wang found food to be the most troublesome part of his journeys. Every time, it was just a few large pots of messy stew that tasted like pig slop.
Over time, he had grown thoroughly sick of it.