Chapter Six: Lin'an

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“If I were to tell others that the Mountain God once invited me for a drink, I wonder if anyone would believe me.”

Shen Chang’an pondered this for a moment and couldn’t help but reveal a faint smile.

He had now entered Lin’an City, which lay close to Fang City and bustled with merchants coming and going. The liveliness was apparent. After inquiring about Fang City, Shen Chang’an found the situation rather peculiar. Despite Lin’an City hosting so many merchants, more than half of them were there solely to do business in Fang City.

Why would Fang City require so many merchants to flock there for trade? The whole affair seemed odd.

Following his usual method, Shen Chang’an slipped the inn’s attendant some money, and the attendant quickly spoke truthfully.

“The people of Fang City are generally lazy, but Master Fang is generous, hiring many hands to work for them. The locals do not engage in production and rely entirely on the merchants for supplies.”

Shen Chang’an found this even stranger and asked, “If they don’t produce anything, where do the people of Fang City get their money?”

“It’s all thanks to Master Fang’s great benevolence. His wealth is astonishing—he gives out money by the handful. Everyone in Fang City survives only because of Master Fang.”

Noting the envy in the attendant’s eyes, Shen Chang’an couldn’t help but ask, “If it’s so good, why don’t you settle in Fang City yourself?”

The attendant laughed awkwardly and replied, “I—I’ve tried, but they wouldn’t have me… Only Master Fang can decide who is allowed to stay in Fang City.”

Shen Chang’an’s curiosity grew—just what kind of place was this, truly?

“Mister, you’ve been asking a lot about this area; are you planning to go to Fang City?”

Shen Chang’an nodded. “Fang City is so mysterious, it must be a fine place for pleasure and entertainment. Of course I want to see it for myself.”

On hearing this, the attendant looked at him with a trace of disdain. At first, seeing Shen Chang’an’s Daoist robes, he’d thought him some figure of repute, but apparently he, too, was just another pleasure-seeker. Then again, it made sense—a Daoist who ate meat and drank wine, who had no discipline or rules, could hardly be a proper Daoist.

Shen Chang’an was indeed not a conventional Daoist. Qingping Temple had no rules against meat or wine. Even if it had, as the seventh generation successor of Qingping Temple, he could always amend the rules if he wished. Now that the old Daoist was gone, he was the temple master—what he said was law. The rest could wait until the old Daoist resurfaced.

“Master Daoist, if you want to go to Fang City, it’s best to arrange it with some of the merchants and travel with them.”

Shen Chang’an was taken aback. “Why is that?”

The attendant scratched his head, embarrassed. “Well, too many people like me have tried to move there. Now Master Fang is unwilling to let more in. If you don’t go with a merchant caravan, traveling on your own could lead to a lot of trouble.”

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“I see.”

Shen Chang’an stroked his chin, already considering how he might tag along with a merchant caravan.

As a Daoist, if he claimed to simply wander with the merchants, they’d likely be wary, afraid he might attract bandits along the way.

“Never mind, I’ll try my luck later and see if some kind soul is willing to take me along. If not, I’ll think of another way.”

As he was pondering this, the sound of galloping horses suddenly rose from below, causing Shen Chang’an’s brows to lift.

“What’s going on?”

This was a bustling tavern in the heart of the city. Riding here was akin to someone in his previous life driving a car on a sidewalk. Yet, in this world, there were no traffic laws, so no clear rule forbade it.

Peering out, Shen Chang’an saw a man in a short tunic recklessly riding a fine horse through the crowd, heedless of bystanders’ safety.

The sight reminded Shen Chang’an of his own horse, which he hadn’t ridden for long before trading it for his own two legs again.

“What’s happening down there?” Shen Chang’an asked casually.

The attendant glanced nervously, then lowered his voice. “That’s someone from the Hall of Loyalty and Righteousness. Looks like something big happened in their gang—they’re in a hurry.”

Shen Chang’an instantly lost interest. Another gang and their petty affairs—truly tedious.

But just then, he noticed a young girl on the road, unable to dodge in time. The horseman showed no sign of slowing down—he was about to trample her.

“What a bunch of scum.” Shen Chang’an’s face turned cold. He picked up a chopstick and flicked it with a snap of his wrist.

Whoosh!

The chopstick shot forward, empowered by his great strength, and struck the horse’s foreleg just before it could hit the girl.

Shen Chang’an had been merciful, restraining his force. The horse felt a stab of pain and twisted, forcefully throwing its rider to the ground.

The man leapt to his feet, immediately drawing the knife at his waist, wary and alert.

“Who’s there?”

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He hadn’t seen who made the move, but the chopstick lying on the ground made it clear that an expert was present.

Shen Chang’an ignored him. Making him take a tumble was punishment enough; there was no need to kill him on the spot.

But the man, seeing that Shen Chang’an remained silent, suddenly scowled, strode over to the little girl, and raised his knife to strike her down.

Shen Chang’an’s expression changed drastically; fury flared in his chest. He stepped out, and another chopstick shot from his palm like lightning.

This time, anger sharpened his aim—no holding back. The chopstick pierced straight through the man’s palm, boring a bloody hole.

Shen Chang’an’s figure landed as well. With a swift kick, he struck the man square in the chest, sending him flying into a wall so hard it left a vague imprint of his body.

“He’s beating someone up…”

The crowd gasped and quickly backed away, but not too far, watching warily from the sidelines.

The rider, his hand pierced and face drained of color, glared venomously at Shen Chang’an. “You Daoist, you’ve got some nerve, daring to go against the Hall of Loyalty and Righteousness!”

Without a word, Shen Chang’an slapped him hard across the face, leaving a swollen welt and knocking out a tooth.

“You—”

He tried to say more, but Shen Chang’an had no patience to listen. With a deft hook of his foot, he swept the man to the ground and gave him a gentle kick that sent him tumbling away.

Still, this was a public street, and the man wasn’t a wanted criminal. Shen Chang’an showed mercy and spared his life.

“Get lost.”

Sensing Shen Chang’an’s murderous aura, the man knew he’d be killed if he lingered. Not daring to look at anyone else, he fled in disgrace.

The crowd, seeing the spectacle end, dispersed as well. As they passed Shen Chang’an, however, they each made a point to give him a wide berth, clearly wishing to avoid crossing paths with him—something that made Shen Chang’an frown deeply.

“The Hall of Loyalty and Righteousness… heh…” He shook his head, lost in thought.