Chapter 83: Leaving Fuxu Town
Before dawn, Ding Li regretted leaving Little South Sea. He wandered through half of Fuxu Town before finally finding an inn willing to “take him in.” Of course, that was thanks to the short dagger he carried with him. Still, Ding Li insisted the innkeeper draft a temporary contract, signed it, and handed over a token from the South Sea Guild, instructing the innkeeper to exchange it for cash at the branch of the Zhang Trading Company first thing in the morning.
Even a hero can be defeated by a lack of coins; filled with helplessness, Ding Li treated his wounds simply in the inn, then fell asleep, exhausted. Yet he had a strange dream, the details of which he couldn’t recall. It was only when he woke with a start, drenched in sweat, that he realized something was off.
Turning to look outside, he found he had slept barely more than two hours, but nevertheless felt refreshed. He guessed the innkeeper had already collected the money from Zhang Trading’s branch, so he rose, washed, and called a staff member to his room.
As expected, the staff arrived with several small dishes, a jug of clear wine, and, naturally, the token Ding Li had given the previous night, along with a small pouch of money. Without bothering to check, Ding Li tossed the pouch back to the staff member, instructing him to fetch a set of clean clothes and a sturdy horse as quickly as possible—the rest was theirs for running errands.
With such incentive, the staff member became suddenly efficient. In less than half an hour, Ding Li was dressed in clean attire and leading a horse that looked less than robust out of the inn.
Though everything moved swiftly, by the time Ding Li left Fuxu Town, the sun was high and the morning hours had passed. He mounted, glanced back at the towering city gate with its three large characters above, shook his head slowly, and let a bitter smile touch his lips before turning to leave.
“Hey! Brother! The one on the horse up ahead!” Just as Ding Li was about to spur his horse forward, a woman’s voice called out behind him. Ding Li was startled, but when he looked around, apart from a small caravan just leaving the town behind him, he was the only lone rider.
As a woman leapt down from the caravan’s only carriage, Ding Li noticed the banner flying above—more specifically, the escort agency’s insignia. It was a well-decorated blue-green flag bearing the character “Miao,” and the woman before him was none other than Miao Cuihua, the matriarch of the renowned Miao Escort Agency in Fuxu Town, whom Ding Li had met on the street just days before.
“Brother, where are you headed? If we’re on the same road, why not travel together—better to have some company!” Miao Cuihua’s personality was as forthright as ever. She waved to her escort guards to halt and strode toward Ding Li, grinning broadly.
“So it's Sister Miao!” Ding Li quickly dismounted and greeted her with a respectful bow. Smiling, he replied, “I plan to return to Guangzhou Prefecture. Where is Sister Miao going? If our paths align, I hope I won’t trouble you and your brothers.”
Ding Li’s words were courteous. First, the Miao Escort Agency’s influence in Fuxu Town was formidable; second, Miao Cuihua was at least half a generation his senior. But Miao Cuihua seemed unconcerned with such formalities. She waved him off, eyed him up and down, and remarked with a smirk, “I didn’t expect it—you seemed like a rough-and-tumble brawler, but turns out you’re just a bookish scholar!”
“Hardly, Sister Miao, you flatter me!” Ding Li understood her meaning at once. She was, after all, a woman of the martial world—straightforward, unconcerned with niceties—and his earlier conduct had indeed been a bit stiff. Ding Li straightened up, letting go of any lingering formality. He glanced at the caravan behind Miao Cuihua, frowning slightly as he asked, “Sister Miao, this doesn’t look like a major venture. Why is the head of the Miao Escort Agency personally escorting it?”
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“Wow, you’re well-informed!” Miao Cuihua paused, then laughed and waved it off, thinking her reputation in Fuxu Town was well known, so Ding Li’s knowledge was no surprise. Yet she dodged the question, saying, “Oh, this caravan? Nothing special. I have a relative in Guangzhou Prefecture with some business, so I’m just accompanying them along the way.”
She shifted the topic, pointing at Ding Li and feigning displeasure. “This is our second meeting! I still don’t know your name. Am I supposed to keep calling you ‘brother’ all the way?”
“My oversight, my mistake!” Ding Li quickly bowed again and introduced himself. “My name is Ding Li. You may call me Ali, or simply Ding Li, as you wish!”
“Ding Li? Ding Li…” Miao Cuihua furrowed her brow, her eyes roaming over Ding Li until his smile grew rigid. She shook her head, muttering as if to herself, “Why does that name sound so familiar? I can’t recall where I’ve heard it…”
“My name is plain and rough, Sister Miao, please don’t make fun of me!” Ding Li didn’t wish to reveal too much about himself and smiled as he waved it off. Seeing Miao Cuihua still deep in thought, he glanced at the caravan and quietly reminded her, “Sister Miao, it’s getting late. We should set out soon, or we might find the gates of Guangzhou Prefecture closed when we arrive.”
“Oh, right, right!” Miao Cuihua snapped back to her business, though she eyed Ding Li with lingering curiosity before shaking her head and smiling. “Then I’ll call you Ali! Let me warn you, yesterday several caravans heading to Guangzhou were robbed—bandits from the east, they say. These days, the road isn’t safe! Don’t rush ahead; stick with my Escort Agency, and I guarantee your safe arrival!”
“Thank you, Sister Miao!” Ding Li nodded solemnly, bowing in thanks again. “I just hope I won’t bring trouble to you and your brothers.”
“Nonsense, we’re acquaintances after all—just traveling together! Let’s go, move out!” Miao Cuihua was clearly pleased, straightening with pride at the mention of her agency. She returned the bow, turned to her caravan, and called out loudly, “Let’s go, move out! Keep alert on the road; we take people’s money, we do the job—don’t forget the rules of the Miao Escort Agency!”
Mounted again, Ding Li looked over the group. About twenty guards in martial attire, but the whole caravan numbered less than fifty, half of whom were armed escorts. He didn’t believe Miao Cuihua’s “visiting relatives” excuse; the only explanation was that their cargo was unusually valuable or held special significance for the client.
The journey proceeded smoothly. After two hours, Ding Li found nothing unusual about the road—indeed, it seemed better than when he traveled it with Zhang Wu. There was no sign of the dangers Miao Cuihua had mentioned, nor any bandits.
Still, one thing struck Ding Li as odd: the only roadside teahouse was bypassed by the Miao Escort Agency. Instead, they stopped about two miles beyond it, adjusting their route slightly. After another similar distance, they halted by a stream, where Miao Cuihua ordered a break for both people and horses.
She dispatched four scouts, two pairs riding out to survey the area. Meanwhile, a middle-aged man from the caravan, apparently a manager, joined Miao Cuihua in a tense discussion. After a brief exchange, Miao Cuihua assigned tasks to her guards, and the manager did likewise for his own men.
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The caravan’s cargo was not substantial; altogether, there were only ten wagons—one for Miao Cuihua and one ordinary-looking cargo wagon, while eight others were drawn together in a semicircle. Behind them, a stream murmured.
Ding Li hadn’t expected any stops along the way and thus brought no provisions. Now, he could only guzzle the half-flask of clear wine he had taken from the inn, standing by the stream and feeling that something was off. Yet, as he glanced around, everyone—including Miao Cuihua—appeared calm, eating and drinking as if nothing were amiss, save for the manager’s worried demeanor.
“Ali! Didn’t bring food when you left, did you?” After assigning tasks, Miao Cuihua approached Ding Li with a string of sausages in hand, amused by his solitary drinking. She pressed the sausages into his hand, laughing and patting his shoulder. “Men, honestly, never know how to take care of themselves! How can you have wine without meat? It’s not the best meat, but we make do on the road. We in this trade aren’t too fussy. Don’t take offense, Ali!”
“Not at all, Sister Miao, you jest!” Ding Li took the sausages, smiling awkwardly. He looked around—most others were eating much the same: a string of sausages, a flask, maybe a piece of flatbread. But their flasks, Ding Li suspected, held only water, not wine.
“All right, eat up. I’ll take a walk around.” Miao Cuihua saw Ding Li hesitate and realized it was probably because of her. She waved him off with a smile and walked away.
“Sister Miao, aren’t you eating?” Ding Li called after her, but she merely waved without turning, tossing back, “I ate in the carriage earlier. You go ahead. We’ll be on our way soon!”
Ding Li could only accept it. He looked at her retreating figure and the sausages in his hand, a warm smile appearing on his lips. Since arriving in this world, no one had ever given him anything unprompted; the sunshine felt softer, and his heart warmed.
He ate quickly—within moments, several sausages and the half-flask of wine were gone. Around him, most were only halfway through their meal, and none seemed in a hurry to depart. Ding Li tossed the flask behind him, lay down, used it as a pillow, and closed his eyes, basking in the sun.
“Boom… boom boom…”
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