The courier station manager snapped to attention and snatched up the ingot for a closer look. A five-tael gold ingot—no question about it. Five taels of gold. That was five hundred taels of silver. His finest horse fetched fifty taels at most, and the whole station didn't clear a hundred taels in a month. This was no country youth. This was a benefactor. A savior.
Manager Luo's mind raced through every flattering description he could summon, then he promptly ushered Andy to the seat of honor and personally brought out a cup of good tea. After that he stood at Andy's side, briskly dispatching his staff in every direction to see to the young master's needs—carrying himself with all the authority of a longtime trusted steward. He was efficient, too. In under half an hour, with Manager Luo still holding forth at length, his assistants had procured food and drink, new clothing, readied the carriage, and engaged the drivers—leaving Andy without a single thing to arrange himself.
"Young master, your features are refined and your bearing exceptional—a man among men, unforgettable at first glance. And yet I don't believe I've had the pleasure before. Your first visit to Xuanyuan City, I take it? Pity you've hired a carriage—you must be leaving soon. If you had the time, I'd be honored to show you the city's finest sights myself. I've lived here since childhood and know every corner of it." Manager Luo had been watching Andy carefully. Seeing that Andy, though silent over his tea, showed no sign of impatience—in fact, a faint flicker of curiosity—he pressed on:
"The history of Xuanyuan City is no small matter, I assure you. It was planned and built tens of thousands of years ago by the great Emperor Xuanyuan himself. Surely young master has heard the name—the legendary ruler who, by his own hand alone, united nearly a dozen nations across the eastern reaches of the Tianyuan Continent. The Great Xia Empire he founded didn't last long—barely a thousand years—but its influence ran deep and far. In his later years the Emperor withdrew from statecraft and built this city as a personal retreat, and it was here that he lived out his final days. There are even legends that his tomb, said to hold immense treasure, lies somewhere within the city—it has drawn searchers for tens of thousands of years without anyone ever finding it. Others say he left no tomb at all. The man had unusual ways; it's perfectly possible he wanted no grand burial. He was born into poverty, they say, but his gifts were extraordinary. No father, no mother, yet he could read and write at one year old, began martial training at two, spoke with the wisdom of a grown man at three, caught the eye of the local magistrate at five for the sharpness of his mind, astonished the whole country with his talents at six, and was administering an entire prefecture at ten..."
His staff had been just as brisk as their manager. Under half an hour later, while Manager Luo was still extolling the Emperor's legendary deeds with no sign of slowing, everything Andy had asked for was ready and waiting. Andy raised a hand, cutting the by-now parched manager off with a single word—"Luan City"—then stepped into the carriage and left Manager Luo standing behind him. Manager Luo took no offense whatsoever. If anything, he felt this was exactly how a young master from a wealthy household ought to conduct himself, and his confidence in Andy's identity deepened accordingly.
……
Andy had not been gone from Xuanyuan City long when the Baoli Pawnshop on Chang'an Street erupted.
"What do you mean he's gone? What does 'gone' mean? Don't you dare tell me those injuries on you are from him. That boy is no fighter—how could two of you possibly lose to him? I know what you're up to. You two want to pocket those twenty-five taels yourselves and you're using this story to fool me. Let me tell you something—I was running this trick before you two were out of your swaddling clothes."
"What! You did that to each other? Why are you hitting each other instead of grabbing the boy? Don't spin me lies. I was going to split the gold three ways—seven or eight hundred taels of silver each for you two, and you still weren't satisfied? You wanted to cut out my share as well? I'm telling you right now, hand it over and we'll say no more about it. Otherwise I'll find the proof and make sure neither of you sees the outside of a cell again."
"Get off your knees—that won't help you. Hand over the gold and I'll be the one kneeling to you..."
……
Luan City was less than two thousand kilometers from Xuanyuan City, and the road between them was mostly flat and smooth. At Andy's estimate, traveling by day and resting at night, they could cover two to three hundred kilometers daily—seven or eight days at most. He spent the journey with his eyes closed, barely leaving the carriage.
……
"Wind-Fire Leopard!"
Bao Dazhu was a minor bandit chief operating in the Sheyu Mountains. Over a decade ago, a female relative of his had been violated by the son of a wealthy family. Overcome with shame and fury, she had nearly drowned herself. After being pulled from the river, she went to the magistrate's office to file a complaint—only to end up imprisoned on charges of causing a disturbance. Bao Dazhu had been powerfully built since boyhood, with extraordinary strength and a temper as quick as it was fierce. When he heard what had happened, he went to confront the rich family and got beaten bloody by their household guards. In a rage, he waited for a moonless night, doused the family's estate in oil, and set it ablaze, then fled several thousand kilometers away and took to the hills near Luan City.
On this particular day, Wind-Fire Leopard Bao Dazhu was keeping his usual watch over the road below from a concealed position on the ridge when a report came in from his front scouts: a carriage up ahead looked promising. It appeared worn down but was pulled by two horses, with only one driver on the box, and from the depth of the wheel ruts in the road the cargo was clearly heavy. The scout also noted they should move quickly, as another carriage with four horses was not far behind and would likely catch up soon. "Set up an ambush at Falling Phoenix Pass. Move the moment they arrive—fast."
Andy was resting with his eyes closed in the carriage when both drivers suddenly cried out in alarm. It was as if they had rehearsed it—before the carriage had even fully stopped, they dropped off either side, rolled, and bolted. "Stop!" Both the bandits and Andy shouted the word at the same time. But no one gave chase. The two drivers had vanished in an instant, moving at a speed that would not have shamed their horses. The carriage drifted to a halt. Andy stepped out. He had swept the area with his spiritual sense before leaving the carriage and already knew what he was dealing with.
Seven or eight bandits were robbing a carriage up ahead. He had simply happened to pass by. Whether that counted as bad luck for Andy or bad luck for the bandits was a matter of perspective. Either way, now that he had stumbled into it, there was no walking away.
Bao Dazhu was about to finish off the carriage owner kneeling before him when he noticed a richly dressed young man strolling out of the carriage behind, unhurried, saying in a languid tone: "I haven't seen a thing and I won't say a word. Why not just let me through? We go our separate ways—no one bothers the other." The words were a sort of appeal, yet there was not the faintest trace of fear in his voice. Bao Dazhu let out a cold grunt. Nothing irritated him more than these pampered young lords—calm as you please even with death staring them down. He caught the eye of the lean, dark-skinned bandit standing closest to Andy. The man immediately bellowed "You can go—leave your life behind!" and came charging at Andy, blade spinning.
The young man sighed. The lean bandit thought: by the time you're sighing it's already too late. It was the last thought he ever had.
Andy simply released a Fireball Technique as the man came at him. The bandit was reduced to ash in an instant. The remaining bandits stared at the scene for a long, frozen moment. "Run!" someone with a quick enough mind shouted, and every bandit—Bao Dazhu included—dropped their weapons and sprinted for the treeline on both sides of the road.
Andy watched them go without any intention of giving chase. He had no interest in playing hero for a group of mortals. He was passing through on his way to the distant Liuyun Market and would never set foot in this area again, so it hardly mattered that they had seen his face. Cultivators and mortals simply did not inhabit the same world.
"What's this?"
Among the gold, silver, and jade objects scattered across the ground around the old carriage, Andy spotted a strange little bowl. It had three feet, two handles, and a lid. Both the lid and the round body of the bowl were covered in unusual inscribed symbols that, at close inspection, seemed almost alive with detail. It strongly resembled a cultivator's magical artifact—yet there was not the faintest trace of spiritual light about it. What truly shocked Andy was the feeling it gave him: he had seen this bowl somewhere before. The recognition was immediate and certain, yet he couldn't place it no matter how hard he tried.
He picked it up and examined it carefully, turning it over to find what appeared to be characters inscribed on the bottom. He studied them closely—and breathed a stunned, barely audible exclamation: "Heaven and earth. Those are the ancient characters from my past life—heaven and earth."
In that instant, Andy finally remembered where he had seen this bowl before.