“Take this with you, girl,” Chu Fengchun said, pulling out a foul-smelling pouch from somewhere. He handed it to Jiang Yueli, who wrinkled her nose, hesitant to accept it.
“What is this?”
Seeing her disgusted expression, Chu Fengchun explained, “This is valuable. These years I’ve been able to traverse the mountains safely all thanks to this. It’s made from the dung of a white-fronted tiger, mixed with some medicinal residue and fermented. It smells awful, but it can repel wild beasts for dozens of meters—better than beast-repelling powder. The scent lasts only two hours, so we must descend quickly. This is the last pouch.”
Originally, it was sealed in oil paper, only releasing its stench when opened. Even after his explanation, Jiang Yueli still hesitated.
She forced a wry smile, her eye twitching. “Better you keep it, old man. Too smelly.”
Chu Fengchun sighed and hung it from his waist. His tattered clothes and disheveled gray hair made him resemble an old rascal from a drama, like Zhou Botong from her past life.
He was talkative, and Jiang Yueli answered each question patiently. But because of his injured leg, their pace was slow. From sunrise to sunset, they still hadn’t descended. Jiang Yueli had no choice but to fashion a makeshift crutch from available materials. With it, Chu Fengchun’s speed improved significantly, though he still grumbled the whole way. By the time the city gates closed, they had just made it.
Jiang Yueli had originally planned to take Chu Fengchun to treat her grandmother’s leg, but his own injury was severe. She couldn’t send the elderly man with a limp to treat someone else, so she decided he should first recover at home, then later go to the Shen family in Lingnan City to see her grandmother.
Because she was concerned about the gold mine, Jiang Yueli left him in the care of local guards and returned alone to Tianmen City. She had planned to rest at a nearby inn, but upon entering, she overheard a few patrons near a window discussing recent disappearances outside the city—over the past month, over a hundred young men had gone missing. Officials had searched, but with no results.
Being afternoon, the hall was quiet, and their voices carried. Jiang Yueli’s mind immediately connected this with the events in the mountain valley—perhaps these disappearances were related to the gold mine.
Determined, she planned to investigate that night. Having already navigated the mountain once, she moved with confidence. To avoid the dangers of the forest at night, she set out before darkness fell.
At the cave in the valley, the sounds of hammering and falling stones echoed intermittently. The cave had been widened enough to accommodate hundreds of people. At the entrance, a dozen men sorted stones and gold, separating pure gold chunks from ore and placing them into carts for the next stage of processing. Selected gold pieces were transported by designated people and stored deep within the cave.
The gold pieces varied in size—from thumb-sized to as large as a water bucket. Though uneven and rough, they were genuine gold, not ore. Under normal circumstances, anyone seeing this much gold would have been overjoyed. But trapped here, working tirelessly, and witnessing deaths among laborers, the men had long lost any greed. To them, the gold was just another rock.
Scattered gold dust littered the ground, yet none dared pick it up. Those who tried to hoard or escape were often killed. In short, failing to work diligently had fatal consequences.
“Master, this is the last batch. In three days we can evacuate. I can handle the aftermath, but please leave with your men first tomorrow morning,” said a man in black, kneeling on one knee.
At the head sat a man in crimson-purple robes with cloud patterns. His noble, cold, and composed expression betrayed no emotion, but his long, bony fingers tapped rhythmically on the table. Jiang Yueli would have recognized him instantly—he was one of the men she had encountered at the teahouse during the rain.
“Good. The first batch of goods is nearly ready. I’ll leave it in your care. Complete the processing and leave early to avoid complications,” he said.
Bei Chen Yuan knew Shi Ying worried for his safety. This was, after all, Nanyao territory. Mining gold here was like taking tiger’s teeth. Should the Nanyao emperor find out, they would surely be punished.
The gold mine was a timely windfall for Bei Chen Yuan. Though he was the Regent Prince of Bei Chen with full authority, ongoing wars had drained the treasury. Years of struggle had kept the state afloat. Now, with these resources, he could secure the twelve cities of Yanzhou, and within a year, march deep into Nanyao territory. Three years later, conquering Nanyao would no longer be a dream.
Bei Chen Yuan’s ambition had never been the throne of Bei Chen—it was domination of the entire Canglong Continent. With Nanyao under his control, the eastern Chu and western Lan would be negligible. The gold he now secured would sustain his army through the coming winter.