AEOGA CH37

The next day, the two set off once more on their journey.

Upon leaving Pingcheng, the prosperity faded away, and the scenery along the road gradually turned desolate. Changli was vast and sparsely populated, featuring vast stretches of wilderness with no villages ahead and no inns behind. Xie Chongjin and Lu Xuechao spent almost all their time resting in the carriage while the secret guards worked in shifts day and night to reach the next town for a proper stay.

Exhausted by days of continuous travel, Lu Xuechao felt somewhat listless. Rushing through the night meant the carriage inevitably jolted; even with the softest blankets laid inside, Lu Xuechao found it difficult to sleep peacefully and had to make up for his lost sleep during the day.

Inside the carriage, Lu Xuechao leaned against Xie Chongjin’s shoulder with his eyes closed in deep sleep, an unmistakable fatigue resting between his eyebrows. Bright sunlight filtered through the carriage window, bathing his long, drooping eyelashes in a brilliant golden sheen.

Xie Chongjin tucked the blanket covering Lu Xuechao closer around him, feeling pained for his sake. He lifted the carriage curtain and asked the secret guard driving the carriage, “How long until we reach the next town?”

Qingshu’s constitution couldn’t withstand traveling at such a grueling pace; they had to find a place to rest as soon as possible.

The one driving was An Qi. As secret guards, they couldn’t endure fatigued driving either, so they swapped drivers every two hours.

“In response to the Master, even with continuous travel through the night, we won’t reach Qiuling Town until tomorrow,” An Qi replied respectfully.

Their speed was already very fast; the horses they used were fine steeds capable of traveling a thousand miles a day, or else it would take even longer.

Changli’s territory was far too vast, its transportation underdeveloped, and inns for travelers to rest were scarce along the way—most simply couldn’t stay in business.

It would take another day and night. Xie Chongjin looked at Lu Xuechao’s weary sleeping face and knitted his brows.

Lu Xuechao slept through the entire morning resting on Xie Chongjin’s shoulder, only to be gently awakened by Xie Chongjin at noon: “Qingshu, drink some water.”

Lu Xuechao slowly opened his eyes and asked indistinctly, “What time is it?”

“It’s noon.” Xie Chongjin handed the dry rations to Lu Xuechao. “Eat something. We’ll reach Qiuling Town tomorrow and can rest then.”

Lu Xuechao didn’t take the dry rations, taking a bite directly from Xie Chongjin’s hand before turning his head away without an appetite: “I don’t want to eat.”

Dry rations were the foulest food Lu Xuechao had ever tasted, without exception. Changli’s dry rations were a kind of hard flatbread—dry, tasteless, hard as rock, and difficult to swallow. Lu Xuechao had to wash it down with water just to choke it down. Their sole redeeming quality was ease of storage and portability. Out on the road, where it was inconvenient to cook at a moment’s notice and inns or restaurants were far from guaranteed, dry rations were an essential item to fill one’s stomach.

Having eaten it for several days straight, Lu Xuechao had reached the point where the mere sight of the hard flatbread made him feel like vomiting.

Xie Chongjin felt helpless: “There’s only this right now. You can’t refrain from eating altogether—what will happen to your stomach if you ruin it from hunger?”

Lu Xuechao said weakly, “I feel that eating this stuff is already ruining my stomach.”

He had been listless these past few days; not sleeping well was one part of it, and not eating well was the other.

Xie Chongjin broke off a piece of the hard flatbread and offered it to Lu Xuechao’s lips, coaxing him, “Endure it for one more day. Once we get to town tomorrow, we’ll eat a fine meal.”

Lu Xuechao pressed his lips tightly shut, refusing to eat.

“Qingshu—” Xie Chongjin’s tone deepened, no longer indulging him. “If you don’t eat, I will genuinely be angry.”

Physical health came first, and Xie Chongjin would not allow Lu Xuechao to be willful about it.

Seeing that Xie Chongjin was serious, Lu Xuechao reluctantly took a bite and murmured, “It seems studying restaurant dishes isn’t enough; I also need to figure out how to make delicious dry rations.”

“Once the main transportation arteries are built, inns across the entire nation must also be opened up. That way, travelers won’t be unable to find a place to stay and be forced to camp in the wild. This, in turn, will drive economic trade between various regions. Furthermore, building a courier station every ten miles for imperial messengers to resupply will keep news flowing swiftly…” What started as a mere complaint turned into serious planning as Lu Xuechao spoke.

Xie Chongjin didn’t know whether to laugh or cry: “Just rest a bit, will you?”

Lu Xuechao was delicate and pampered, yet his delicate nature differed from that of ordinary noble families. When others disliked something, they demanded better accommodations from others for their own comfort. When Lu Xuechao disliked something, he crafted something better himself to benefit all living souls under heaven.

Being exceptionally brilliant was truly marvelous.

No matter how Lu Xuechao planned for the future, he still had to eat the hard flatbread to fill his belly for now. He ate less than half before refusing to open his mouth again. Seeing that he genuinely couldn’t eat another bite, Xie Chongjin took the remaining piece and ate it himself, preventing any waste.

Lu Xuechao watched him eat without a change in expression: “Do you truly not find it difficult to swallow?”

Xie Chongjin replied, “It is indeed unpleasant, but there are still many commoners who cannot even afford to eat this.”

The late Emperor and Empress had attached great importance to Xie Chongjin’s education. Only by enduring hardship of hardships could one become superior to others; had he never experienced the suffering of the common people, he might have turned into a monarch who asked, ‘Why don’t they eat meat porridge?’ Therefore, Xie Chongjin had been taken deep among the populace by his imperial parents since childhood to undergo trials, so eating such fare caused him no discomfort.

“When you put it that way, I feel I ought to be ashamed,” Lu Xuechao remarked. “Next time, I will try my best to finish it.”

Xie Chongjin looked over, his gaze earnest and sincere: “My purpose in being Emperor is to let my people and my beloved enjoy blessings, not to make them grow accustomed to suffering. Qingshu does not need to feel ashamed for this, nor do you need to learn to endure hardship. To have Qingshu help me bring blessings to the populace is my privilege.”

Lu Xuechao looked at him for a brief moment, then chuckled softly: “Huaiyun, no wonder I love you so.”

–

Though they had assumed they would be traveling until tomorrow, when the red sun sank in the west, they unexpectedly came across an inn.

“Master, there is an inn ahead. Shall we stop and rest?” An Ying, who had just come to take his shift, inquired.

Xie Chongjin frowned: “In the middle of a desolate wilderness, how could there be an inn? It’s likely a black inn.”

Inns were typically opened in bustling towns with high foot traffic to secure clientele. In a deserted wilderness where human tracks were rare, who would do business here?

An Ying said, “Then your subordinate will not stop.”

Lu Xuechao spoke up, “Let us rest there for the night. I need to rest, and the horses need to rest as well.”

“Qingshu,” Xie Chongjin tried to stop him. “That place isn’t safe.”

He didn’t dare risk Lu Xuechao’s safety.

Having gone through Lu Xuechao meeting with misfortune far too many times, Xie Chongjin was like a bird startled by the mere twang of a bow string; Lu Xuechao’s safety and well-being were his top priority.

“With you and the secret guards around, how could it be unsafe?” Lu Xuechao reasoned. “If it is a black inn, they likely murder travelers to steal their goods and take their lives. In a matter involving human lives, how can we sit by and ignore it when we encounter it? Shall we wait for them to harm others?”

Xie Chongjin thought it over and realized he was right: “Then let us go and take a look.”

–

An inn in the middle of a desolate wilderness was naturally nowhere near as grand as the Ping’an Inn. It consisted of merely a few wooden boards supporting a house, looking thoroughly shabby.

Inside the building, a burly, muscular man was leaning against the counter, picking his teeth out of sheer boredom. In a wilderness devoid of travelers, they might not secure a single transaction in ten days or half a month, but once a big fish came along, it was enough to keep them fed for half a year.

Just as the burly man was picking his teeth, he spotted two young men walking in. One wore black clothes and a mask, while the other wore white clothes and a veiled hat, concealing their faces. Yet judging by their attire and demeanor, they were clearly scions of wealthy families.

The burly man’s eyes lit up, and he exchanged a glance with another tall, skinny waiter in the room who had a monkey-like face—this was a massive deal.

The skinny waiter stepped forward enthusiastically to greet them: “The two guests must be here to stay the night! It’s so late, you two surely haven’t eaten dinner yet. Our humble shop has meat buns and tea—would you like some?”

Xie Chongjin nodded and sat down on a long wooden bench in the main hall—the inn only had one floor, so naturally there were no private rooms.

The skinny waiter retreated with a smirk, returning shortly with a pot of tea and several meat buns: “Please enjoy, honored guests.”

Xie Chongjin asked casually, “Why did the shopkeeper open a shop in such a remote place? I see you don’t raise pigs, chickens, or ducks—where did the meat in the buns come from?”

The skinny waiter’s eyes rolled as he answered, “To tell you the truth, honored guest, there is no shortage of inns in town, and we can’t compete with them. But in this desolate wilderness, plenty of passing merchants can’t find a place to stay, so we don’t worry about a lack of customers. As for the meat, we run to the nearest Qiuling Town every now and then to stock up; it’s guaranteed to be fresh, so please rest assured and eat, honored guests. Speaking of which, you two don’t look like merchants—how did you end up in a place like this?”

This was a mutual probing of backgrounds and origins.

Xie Chongjin said, “We heard the scenery in Jiangnan is splendid, so my spouse and I came out to travel.”

The skinny waiter and the burly man imperceptibly exchanged another glance—there were only two of them, making them even easier to handle.

Having said so much, neither of the two guests had touched the tea or food on the table. A hint of anxiety leaked out from the skinny waiter that was barely detectable: “Why aren’t the guests eating?”

Just as Xie Chongjin was about to respond, Lu Xuechao suddenly leaned over and began to dry-heave.

Xie Chongjin hurriedly supported Lu Xuechao’s arm, bending down to ask in a low voice, “What’s wrong?”

While Xie Chongjin was dealing with the waiter, Lu Xuechao had been quietly inspecting the tea and meat buns.

Lu Xuechao’s face was slightly pale as he whispered, “There are knock-out drugs in the tea, and the buns are human flesh.”

Sure enough, it was the standard fare of a black inn.

Knowing full well the inn was shady, he didn’t feel afraid, but he was utterly disgusted.

Xie Chongjin’s expression turned cold: “Then let us capture them for interrogation.”

Lu Xuechao shook his head slightly: “They have accomplices. This knock-out drug doesn’t take effect immediately; it merely makes one sleep deeply at night, so they will wait until nighttime to move. There are no carriages in the shop, yet there are deep tire tracks outside the door, indicating that carriages frequently travel back and forth here. They definitely have people meeting them at night—we will beat them at their own game.”

Their primary purpose on this trip was disaster relief, so they had no time to waste on this. Capturing these two minions directly might alert their accomplices and cause them to flee, leaving endless trouble behind. It was better to root them out all at once.

Seeing the white-robed man dry-heaving while the two whispered to each other for a long time at a volume he couldn’t hear, the skinny waiter grew suspicious that they had noticed something wrong, his expression turning vigilant: “What happened to this honored guest?”

Behind the counter, the burly man tightened his grip on the axe in his hand.

Xie Chongjin maintained a composed expression: “My spouse is exhausted from the journey, unaccustomed to the local climate, and feeling unwell; he likely cannot stomach meat right now. We will just eat some of our own dry rations. Shopkeeper, rest assured, we will still pay for the meat buns.”

The suspicious look on the skinny waiter’s face faded: “Then please have a cup of tea, honored guest.”

Refusing to eat the human flesh buns was fine, so long as they drank the tea laced with knock-out drugs.

This time, the two did not decline, drinking the tea right before the eyes of the burly man and the skinny waiter.

—As members of the imperial family, their methods of feigning drinking tea while not letting a single drop touch their mouths were thoroughly refined to combat assassination attempts. Even if they had actually drunk it, Lu Xuechao kept antidotes on hand for such low-grade drugs.

Still, neither of them drank it; their lips didn’t even touch the cups.

They found it filthy.

Fooled by the act, the burly man and the skinny waiter relaxed, inviting them to rest in the bedroom before immediately sending a message to their contact.

Though called a bedroom, it was separated from the main hall by a single curtain, containing a large shared brick bed inside.

In the middle of a desolate wilderness, these were the best conditions available.

Seeing this, Xie Chongjin didn’t bother making the bed and simply feigned sleep.

To put on a complete act, since no one slept with masks and hats on, the two removed their face coverings, closed their eyes, and waited to catch the thieves.

Late at night, a pair of hands pulled aside the curtain, and two figures crept inside on tiptoe.

Holding a candle, the skinny waiter shone the light toward the head of the bed. Upon seeing the faces of the two clearly, he gasped in shock.

“Gasp, these two look…” The skinny waiter was temporarily at a loss for words. “Can someone really look like this? Compared to these two, what did the one from the day before yesterday even count for? We sold that one for a high price last time; won’t this one guarantee we won’t have to worry about food or clothing for the rest of our lives?”

The burly man was also dazed, staring at Lu Xuechao’s face while swallowing his spit: “How about we sell the one in black and keep this one for ourselves as a sex slave?”

“I’ve never tasted such a peerless beauty in my life. Let him bear eight or ten children to carry on the family line for the two of us brothers…”

Both were good-looking, but he preferred this fair and beautiful type even more.

The skinny waiter’s mind was swayed as well. They had always been greedy for money, but this one was far too gorgeous—they hadn’t seen such a beauty in eight lifetimes, so who could bear to sell him?

He hesitated, “But didn’t we already tell them two pieces of cargo arrived today, and they’re waiting outside…”

The burly man said, “We’ll just say one was too ugly and was chopped into meat filling. The remaining one is top quality too, so they won’t pursue it… AAH!!!”

He suddenly let out a blood-curdling scream. The skinny waiter gasped in fright, feeling a liquid splash onto his face. Turning his head, he saw the burly man next to him still standing, yet his neck was completely bare.

His feet felt heavy. Trembling with fear, he lowered his head. When the candlelight shone down, he saw the burly man’s head rolling by his feet, staring at him with eyes wide in unappeased death.

“AAAAAHHHH!!!” The skinny waiter shrieked in terror. Dropping the candle to the floor, he tried to scramble out on hands and knees, only to feel an intense agony in his heart as his pupils dilated, and he collapsed face-down.

He never saw who killed him up until the moment he died.

Everything happened in the blink of an eye. Opening his eyes, Lu Xuechao saw Xie Chongjin instantly stamp out the flame on the candle, throw down the slaughtering knife, and gently cover his eyes in the darkness, preventing him from seeing the bloody scene.

Lu Xuechao’s eyelashes trembled.

Xie Chongjin had ordered the execution of many heinous criminals, but he rarely killed someone with his own hands.

He disliked killing, and he possessed a deep fear of the color of blood—a painful lingering aftermath brought on by countless worlds.

“They wanted to harm you,” Xie Chongjin held him tightly, his voice colder and more ruthless than ever before.

“Their deaths are not enough to expiate their crimes.”