Welcoming

Jiang Ci rubbed her eyes and looked back at the grand city. Was she dreaming?

She carried Lu Yan on her back, and the heavy weight felt all too real. If it wasn't a dream, could it be an illusion? That seemed to be the only logical explanation for the sudden appearance of this city.

Disciples in blue sect uniforms stood perfectly straight. However, there were very few refugees around the city. Only a few people who looked relatively well-off were passing in and out of the city gates.

Whatever it was, she needed to get inside first. Jiang Ci shook her head and walked toward the city gates.

As she approached the gates, the people around her couldn't help but stare with curiosity. A stunningly beautiful woman carrying an unconscious man on her back, both dressed like ragged refugees, was a highly unusual sight in Everspring City.

Two disciples in blue robes, identical to those atop the walls, stood at the gates, inspecting everyone who passed through.

“Pass.”

“Here it is, Immortal Master.”

A plump merchant directly ahead of Jiang Ci respectfully handed over his pass and entered the city. Then, it was her turn.

“Pass.” The blue-robed disciple's voice was soft but clear. Jiang Ci stood there, staring at him. She didn't speak or move. Behind her back, her hands supported Lu Yan, her fingers gripping the folds of his robe so tightly that her knuckles turned white, as if fearing he would slip off the moment she let go.

The blue-robed disciple looked up at her. His gaze swept over her face, shifted to Lu Yan on her back, and then returned to her face. Another refugee trying to sneak in, he thought. Ever since the Northern Border fell, people like this arrived at Everspring City every day—ragged, covered in wounds, carrying corpses, or dragging children. He had seen far too many of them.

“Pass,” he repeated, his tone slightly firmer and carrying a hint of impatience.

“I don't have one,” Jiang Ci said.

The blue-robed disciple paused, his brow furrowing slightly. “No pass? That'll be one hundred spirit stones per person, or one thousand taels of silver.” He recited the rule in a flat, emotionless voice.

The people waiting in line nearby began to whisper. Some stared at Jiang Ci, others examined Lu Yan on her back, some sighed, and a few even started betting with their companions that the pair would never get in.

Jiang Ci remained silent. She had neither a hundred spirit stones nor a thousand taels of silver. Staring down at her toes, she fell into deep thought. She wondered if she should pawn her sword. But Black Mountain Fort was gone. Even if she could walk all the way to Beizhou City to pawn her belongings, the man on her back wouldn't survive the journey.

What should she do? She was stuck at the very first step of entering the city. She stood frozen, biting her lip so hard it turned white, nearly drawing blood. She had to get Lu Yan into the city. She had to. He couldn't travel any further, and neither could she. Both of them were at their absolute limits.

“Do you have any relatives in Everspring City? If you do, you can wait by the gate and have them come fetch you,” the disciple suggested. Perhaps her stubborn expression had stirred his pity, or perhaps her striking beauty had played a part, prompting him to offer this alternative.

Since the fall of the Northern Border, many people had come to Everspring City to seek shelter with relatives. He had seen plenty of them—some were genuine family, some were distant relatives twice removed, and others were complete strangers trying to leech off someone's name. He didn't know why he was telling this woman all this; perhaps the look in her eyes simply made him feel soft-hearted.

Jiang Ci's eyes lit up instantly. Relatives? She had no relatives; hers had all died decades ago. But Lu Yan had friends. Hong Jiu was here, and Nannan was here. She didn't know where they lived, what their names were, or if they would even be willing to come get her. But she knew they were in the city. Yet, she didn't know Hong Jiu's real name.

When Hong Jiu left, Nannan was the only one with her. She couldn't very well ask Nannan to bring money to bail them out. Nannan was just a child; she couldn't let her travel such a distance alone. But if Nannan was here, Yao Wu had to be here as well. She wracked her brain, trying to recall Yao Wu's real name. She remembered Lu Yan mentioning it before. What was it? Qingzi? Right, Yao Qingzi. Lu Yan called him Qingzi.

The name sounded vaguely familiar. Though she wasn't entirely sure if it was correct, she remembered Lu Yan saying it. She had to treat a dead horse as if it were alive—both she and Lu Yan were at death's door. She couldn't let him die here, just outside the city gates.

She lined up once more and approached the gate disciple. “Excuse me, sir, my relative is in the city. Could you please send word to him?” Her voice was soft, but she enunciated every word clearly. She didn't know if her gamble would pay off; she only knew she had to try.

By the time Jiang Ci stood before him for the second time, it was already afternoon. The sun had tilted to the west, and the humid air felt like a wet quilt pressed against her face, making it hard to breathe. The disciple was exhausted. Sitting in his chair with his eyes half-closed, his register resting on his knees, he was on the verge of falling asleep. He didn't even raise his head. “What's the name?” his voice was listless, like a monk chanting scriptures.

“Yao Qingzi.”

The disciple gave a listless grunt and waved his hand, telling someone to post a notice. “If he sees it, he'll come,” he said dismissively.

The disciple beside him, however, suddenly perked up. He sat up straight, his eyes wide. “Yao Qingzi? The one who came looking for the proprietress of Huamantian last time? The one accompanied by a burly man built like an iron tower?” His voice was loud enough for everyone in line to hear.

Jiang Ci knew he was referring to Chen San and nodded hastily. “Yes, yes! Please, sir, could you pass the message along?” Her voice trembled.

“Ah, looking for Second Aunt of Huamanlou. Alright, I'll make the trip.” The previously listless disciple instantly energized, jumping out of his chair and preparing to leave. The other disciple grabbed him.

“Screw you, I'm the one who remembered! If anyone's going, it's me!” The two of them began shoving each other, neither willing to back down. One grabbed the other's sleeve while the other slapped his hand away, cursing like two children fighting over candy.

Under Jiang Ci's bewildered gaze, the two disciples continued their dispute. It was her first time seeing people fight over running an errand. In the end, the listless disciple won, though it cost him two flasks of chilled Pear Flower Immortal wine for the other. He grinned from ear to ear, stepped onto his flying sword, and vanished in a flash of sword light. The loser stamped his foot in frustration, still muttering curses.

The remaining disciple gestured for Jiang Ci to sit and wait inside the gateway. “Don't just stand there, come inside and sit. Carrying someone like that, your legs will go numb if you stand too long.” His tone was much friendlier now, perhaps because of the promised wine, or perhaps because he genuinely pitied her. Jiang Ci didn't refuse. She walked into the gateway and slowly sat down against the wall, gently lowering Lu Yan from her back and letting his head rest against her shoulder.

An hour later, Hua Er came stomping over to the city gates, her face flushed red from either the heat or her anger. Her shop was swamped with chores! The lunch dishes weren't washed, the afternoon vegetables weren't chopped, and Nannan was still upstairs waiting for her to cook. Then, some disciple had suddenly showed up out of nowhere saying someone was looking for her. Not only would she have more mouths to feed, but she had also been extorted of several flasks of wine! Half a day's hard work down the drain!

She wanted to see exactly which poor relative had come to beg at her door. She cursed as she walked, resolving to drive them away no matter who it was. The thing she hated most in life was those distant relatives who were nowhere to be found in good times but immediately sought her out when trouble struck, freeloading on her food and lodging while complaining that she was stingy.

“Ah, Proprietress Hua is here! That's her, the one who said she knows you.” The winning disciple poked his head out from behind Hua Er, a wide grin plastered on his face. He held two flasks of wine in his hands—the very ones he had extorted from her. He smiled so widely his eyes narrowed into slits, looking as if he had hit the jackpot.

A white-haired woman? She didn't recall knowing anyone like that. It had to be some random person trying to claim a connection. Hua Er opened her mouth to unleash a torrent of abuse, the curses already on the tip of her tongue. Just then, Jiang Ci raised her head.

Hua Er froze. The curses she had been about to spit out lodged in her throat, as if someone had suddenly choked her.

Looking at her, Hua Er's heart skipped a beat. What a magnificent face this was. It was beautiful beyond words. When those grey glass-like eyes, filled with vulnerability and a tiny sliver of hope, looked at Hua Er, she felt her heart squeeze tightly. It wasn't pain, but an indescribable, aching, tingling sensation.

Seeing Hua Er freeze, Jiang Ci assumed she was unwilling to help. She quickly pushed herself up against the wall to stand. Her legs were completely numb; the moment she stood, she wobbled and nearly collapsed. Steadying herself, she hoisted Lu Yan higher and looked up at Hua Er. Her face remained expressionless, but her eyes held a spark—a tiny, fragile glimmer of hope.

Drip. A drop of blood fell to the ground. Hua Er looked down at the blood, startled, and reached up to touch her own nose. It was warm and sticky. She was having a nosebleed.