Martial Saint with Passives
Chapter 395 - 219: Returning to Lin Yuan City (Part 1)
Lin Yuan City.
In the north of the city, the once heavily guarded Zhao’s Earth Castle had now been expanded several times over.
Atop the towering stone walls were no longer the black-clad household retainers and members of the Nursing Home of before.
They had been replaced by elite soldiers clad in standard-issue leather armor, wielding powerful bows and heavy crossbows.
Their gazes were sharp, their expressions cold. Every movement radiated the iron-willed and grim aura of seasoned veterans.
Within the Earth Castle, it was still a scene of bustling activity.
However, the once-bustling Arsenals had mostly been dismantled.
In their place stood rows of even grander and more imposing pavilions and towers.
This place had clearly become the new center of power in Lin Yuan City.
Ever since the Zhao Family, under the leadership of their new Patriarch, Zhao Kang, had quelled the bandit plague brought by Tuoba Lie and used the opportunity to eliminate all disobedient factions within the city.
The Zhao Family was now the sole and absolute ruler of Lin Yuan City.
Even the Government Office, which symbolized the authority of the Court, was now a hollow shell, having become a complete vassal to the Zhao Family.
...
Deep within the Earth Castle was a district of low, crude artisan dormitories.
A dim, damp room was filled with the pungent, mixed smell of tung oil and sawdust.
Jiang Dawu sat on a small wooden stool, using the faint daylight filtering through the window to focus on polishing a newly-formed axle in his hands.
His movements were as practiced and precise as ever, as if he had become one with the carving knife and the wood in his hands.
Only, compared to three years ago, his back seemed more stooped, and his once broad, powerful hands were covered in even deeper cracks and calluses.
"Cough... cough cough..."
From the bed in the inner room, a sudden, pained, and suppressed cough could be heard.
Jiang Dawu’s hands froze. He quickly put down his tools and hurried inside.
He saw his wife, Mrs. Zhou, curled up on the cold bed planks. Her face was sallow, her lips were chapped, and her forehead was covered in a cold sweat.
She clutched a faded old cloth, washed white from use, tightly against her mouth.
A startling trace of crimson was faintly visible on the cloth.
"Coughing again?" Jiang Dawu looked at her, his weathered face filled with heartache and helplessness. "Did you... take your medicine?"
"Mhm..." Mrs. Zhou nodded weakly, not wanting him to worry.
"Sigh... I’ll go out later and see if I can buy you something nourishing," Jiang Dawu sighed.
Ever since the Zhao Family took complete control of Lin Yuan City, their supervision over them had relaxed considerably.
They were no longer confined within the Arsenal like prisoners.
They could even occasionally ask for leave to go out, though their time was limited, and they had to return on schedule.
But to them, it made little difference.
Their son and daughter had long since vanished without a trace.
They had no other family left in this world.
Aside from performing arduous carpentry work for the Zhao Family day after day in exchange for meager rations and wages, their lives seemed to have lost all meaning.
To make matters worse, six months ago, Mrs. Zhou had fallen gravely ill from years of exhausting labor and heart-wrenching grief. She coughed incessantly, and her health deteriorated day by day.
To pay for his wife’s treatment, Jiang Dawu had spent nearly all his savings.
But how could their meager wages possibly afford those precious medicinal herbs?
Looking at his wife’s increasingly gaunt face, Jiang Dawu’s heart felt as if it were being cut by a knife.
’If only Che’er and Ling’er were here...’
More than once, during the gaps between shifts or in the middle of the night, he had snuck out of the Zhao Family’s estate and returned to their old, dilapidated home in the south of the city.
He always clung to a faint glimmer of hope, thinking that perhaps his children would return.
Perhaps he could glean some small scrap of news about them from the neighbors.
However, he never saw a single soul there.
All he would see was the long-rusted bronze lock and a house full of dust.
As for the once-familiar neighbors, they had either died or fled during the turmoil, their whereabouts unknown.
...
On the official road from Cangzhou Prefecture to Lin Yuan City, a caravan was moving slowly forward.
The wheels of the carriages rolled slowly along the rutted dirt road, making a constant CREAK... CREAK... sound.
Jiang Che sat in a carriage, watching the desolate scenery retreat on both sides of the road.
The thought of his imminent return to Lin Yuan City couldn’t help but stir some excitement in his heart.
In his current guise, he looked for all the world like an unremarkable middle-aged merchant.
Combined with his deliberately concealed aura, even the caravan’s veteran Darts Masters, who were well-traveled and had sharp eyes, couldn’t discern his true depth.
There were quite a few other independent travelers like Jiang Che in the caravan.
A mother and daughter were sharing the same carriage with Jiang Che.
The mother was a kind-faced woman of about forty.
Her daughter, named Xiaocui, was a lively fifteen- or sixteen-year-old with a round face and twin ponytails.
Perhaps because they were of a similar age, Xiaocui and Jiang Ling quickly became good friends who could talk about anything.
"Sister Ling’er, look! What kind of bird is that? Its feathers are so pretty!"
"Sister Ling’er, did you used to live in Lin Yuan City too? Do you know Li’s Tanghulu in the south of the city? Let me tell you, their tanghulu is the most delicious!"
Throughout the journey, Xiaocui chirped away like a cheerful little sparrow. Under her influence, the usually somewhat introverted Jiang Ling became much more lively and cheerful, letting out bell-like laughter from time to time.
However, whenever Xiaocui’s gaze inadvertently swept over Jiang Che, a trace of fear would unconsciously appear in her eyes.
"Sister Ling’er," she leaned in and whispered in Jiang Ling’s ear, "Is that... your dad? He... looks so fierce. He hasn’t said a word the whole trip."
Hearing this, Jiang Ling burst out laughing with a "Pfft!" "He’s not my dad! He’s my brother!"
"Huh? Your brother?" Xiaocui’s face was a picture of disbelief.
Jiang Che’s current disguised appearance made him look to be at least thirty-five or thirty-six. Standing next to the eighteen-year-old Jiang Ling, they did indeed look more like father and daughter.
Jiang Che overheard their conversation and just shook his head helplessly, not paying it much mind.
Besides this ordinary mother and daughter, there were a few special "honored guests" in the caravan.
Their carriage was just ahead of Jiang Che’s.
Although the horses pulling it were no different, the carriage itself was clearly much more exquisite. The window frames were even outlined with intricate cloud patterns in silver thread.
And the driver was no ordinary Coachman hired by the caravan.
It was a Martial Artist with a steady aura and bulging temples, who was shockingly already in the Bone Forging Realm.
Inside the carriage sat a haughty Young Master dressed in fine robes, along with his sister, who was similarly richly dressed and had a cold expression.
This Young Master’s surname was Wang. He was said to be the legitimate son of some second-rate Noble Family from Cangzhou Prefecture.
He seemed extremely reluctant to interact with anyone else in the caravan. Whether it was for a rest stop or a meal, he never left his carriage. His food was always delivered separately to his compartment by his Bone Forging Realm guard.
When he occasionally lifted the curtain for air, his gaze toward the other Darts Masters and attendants was always filled with undisguised disdain.
It was as if breathing the same air as these "mud-legs" was an insult to his noble status.
Of course, being able to afford a Bone Forging Realm Martial Artist as a personal guard and Coachman did indeed give him the capital to be arrogant in an ordinary caravan.
Jiang Che took all this in and felt rather speechless.
’Back in the day, Chen Jiayu, the great young master of Cangzhou Prefecture’s number one Noble Family, was so humble and courteous in his dealings with people. I never saw him act so pretentiously.’
’But this so-called Young Master, who crawled out of who-knows-what corner, puts on more airs than anyone.’
He glanced again at the equally arrogant Bone Forging Realm guard.
’And this Bone Forging Realm guard...’
’Come to think of it, it’s been a long time since I’ve met a Martial Artist this... weak...’
Jiang Che shook his head and retracted his gaze.
As long as this group didn’t have the misfortune of provoking him, he couldn’t be bothered to pay them any mind.
...
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