Chapter 178: Extra (8)
Several years later.
Bai Jiu had already become the Lord Bai Jiu of the Bai family of the Northern lands.
The old patriarch of the Bai family had relinquished power, leaving all decisions to him. By now, no one dared to casually call him “Bai Jiu” anymore — everyone addressed him respectfully as “Master.”
After the young master of the North took office, his very first business deal extended all the way to Russia. He returned with enormous profits, and from then on, “Lord Bai Jiu” became a golden name — the Bai family of the North shone brighter than ever before.
After resting for over a month upon his return to China, Lord Bai Jiu once again led a group south by ship, reorganizing the Bai family’s trading branches along the way. When their fleet passed through Shanghai, they paused briefly for adjustment, then turned inland along the river route, heading straight toward Sichuan.
The ships moved along the river; jagged cliffs rose on both sides, with only the cries of birds and the rumble of steamers echoing through the gorge.
At the bow of the ship stood a man, silent and cold-faced, simply watching the mountains and flowing waters as the boat carried them toward Western Sichuan.
At that same time, in the upper city of Western Sichuan—
A group of riders filed out of the city whistling, the man in front strikingly handsome and effortlessly graceful on horseback. Even the whip in his hand was decorated with colorful tassels of silk — he was none other than Xie Siquan, head of the Xie family.
Riding closely behind him was a young man whose handsome face bore a strong resemblance to Xie Siquan’s, though still youthful, with rounder eyes full of vitality. His gaze was bright and clear, his lips sharp-edged and spirited like an unsheathed dagger. A gemstone shimmered at the end of his braid, glinting in the sunlight as he rode — this was Xie Siquan’s nephew, Xie Jing.
After leaving the city, the party didn’t go anywhere else but headed straight toward the back mountain. Everyone in Western Sichuan City knew that the young master of the Xie family loved hunting, so no one found it strange. Even in the busiest seasons for salt trading, whenever the young master wanted to hunt, Xie Siquan would always drop whatever he was doing to take his nephew into the mountains.
They roamed the woods all day, hunting seven or eight rabbits and a few golden pheasants — but no larger prey.
Half of Xie Jing’s quiver was empty, his forehead beaded with sweat as he reached out to take a rabbit from a guard.
Xie Siquan rode over and coaxed him, “Don’t rush, Jing’er. Your uncle will stay here with you for a few days. We’re sure to find something bigger.”
“Uncle, I only wanted rabbits anyway. Look, these two are perfect! Mother was just saying the other day that she wants to make a fur vest.” The boy squeezed his horse’s sides, rode ahead, and waved the rabbits in his hand proudly. The silver earring on one ear dangled and caught the light. “We’ll head home tomorrow. I’ll give these to Mother — she’ll be so happy!”
Xie Siquan didn’t answer, glancing around vaguely. “We won’t go back for a few days.”
“Why?” Xie Jing asked curiously.
“Oh, your uncle wants to hunt a couple of mountain goats,” Xie Siquan replied more smoothly this time. “Didn’t the Second Manager say last time that he was craving goat meat? If we find some, we’ll hunt a few and bring them back. It’s almost Mid-Autumn — perfect time for a goat stew.”
Xie Jing squinted at him playfully. “Oh— Uncle’s being nice to the Second Manager, huh—”
Xie Siquan laughed and flicked his whip lightly at him. “You brat! Don’t tease. Let’s split up and look around — we’ll meet at Douxiang village tonight.”
Xie Jing agreed with a grin and rode off with a few men.
This season, mountain goats were hard to find. Xie Jing searched all afternoon but saw none — instead, he discovered a clear spring.
Though it was already autumn, Sichuan was still hot and muggy. The Xie family, unused to heat, suffered easily. As soon as Xie Jing saw the cool, clear water surrounded by white boulders and bamboo shade, he couldn’t move another step. After a day of sweating in the forest, the idea of soaking in that refreshing spring was irresistible.
He circled the pool once and couldn’t bear to leave. Raising his hands, he began unbuttoning his outer robe.
The guard behind him hurriedly protested, “Young Master, you mustn’t — we don’t know how deep this water is. What if—”
Xie Jing tossed the robe at him and said, “I’m a good swimmer. I’ll just soak my feet to relax. Don’t fuss.” Seeing the guard still wanting to argue, he interrupted, “Enough nagging — my ears are growing calluses! Go wait outside. If Uncle comes, whistle, and I’ll come right out.”
The guards could only obey.
Soon, Xie Jing slipped into the spring, naked and gleaming like a silver fish. He scooped water over his face, eyes closing in comfort.
Then came the faint rustle of movement beyond the bamboo. Xie Jing’s ears were sharp; at first, he thought it was his own guards. But then a low voice said, “Withdraw.”
In an instant, Xie Jing reacted — he leapt from the water, grabbed his clothes, wrapped himself hastily, took his whip in one hand, and blew a sharp whistle.
The guards rushed in at once, surrounding him protectively. “Young Master?”
Water droplets still clung to his hair as he swept it back. His tone hardened: “There’s someone in the forest. Two of you — circle behind. Don’t let them get away. Alive.”
The intruders moved quickly through the woods — clearly more than one person — but Xie Jing had grown up hunting in these mountains and knew the terrain better. Before long, he captured one of them.
After losing a man, the leader stopped fleeing and waited calmly for Xie Jing to approach.
The guards, fierce Sichuan men skilled with firearms, were fuming from being outmaneuvered. But before they could act, the stranger spoke first:
“We’re passing merchants,” he said evenly. “There are checkpoints all along Yunmeng Road, so we came this way to scout ahead. Our intrusion was unintentional — please forgive us.”
As Xie Jing drew closer, before even seeing the man’s face, he caught a faintly familiar scent. He had smelled it before — he was sure — but couldn’t recall where.
The man before him was handsome but cold-skinned, with a remote and imperious air, accustomed to command. Xie Jing circled him twice, frowning — that strange sense of familiarity only deepened, but something still didn’t click.
“You’re merchants?” he asked.
The man nodded. “Yes.”
“Then where are your goods?”
“Our ship’s at the dock. If the young master doubts us, you can send men to check.”
Xie Jing snorted. “You just told me to ‘withdraw,’ didn’t you? Is this your spring? Why should I leave?”
The man didn’t flinch even with several rifles aimed at him. His calm gaze lingered on Xie Jing. “I didn’t know the young master was bathing here. My words were rude.”
Xie Jing stared at him.
The man continued softly, “Allow me to apologize, young master.”
His tone was sincere, devoid of mockery. Xie Jing, for some reason, felt a pang of warmth toward him — a strange, inexplicable familiarity that irritated him for being unable to place it. With a frown, he finally ordered, “Let them go.”
The guard hesitated. “Young Master, just like that?”
“They’re not bandits,” Xie Jing replied. “Why catch them for nothing? I was just curious. Now I know who they are — that’s enough.”
As they were about to leave, the man spoke again, giving his surname: Bai.
The guards murmured, but the man waved them silent. His gaze softened slightly, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
Xie Jing turned back, looking him over carefully as if trying to remember something. Then, lazily, he said, “My name’s Xie San. Since I caught one of your men, I can’t let you go for free.” He reached to the man’s waist and snatched off a jade pendant, twirling it in his hand. “I’ll keep this. If you want it back, bring silver to redeem it yourself. Upper City of Western Sichuan — the biggest tavern there is mine!”
Without waiting for a reply, he turned and left with his men.
When he returned to Douxiang village, Xie Jing went straight to his uncle. “Uncle, I want to go back to the city!”
Xie Siquan was surprised. “Why so soon? Didn’t we agree to stay out a few more days? We haven’t even found the goats yet.”
Xie Jing couldn’t explain — he just sat there, tapping his foot impatiently. Suddenly, he looked up and asked, “I heard Yunmeng Road is blocked?”
Xie Siquan replied vaguely, “No… not that I’ve heard.”
The late summer air was still hot. Xie Siquan had green bean soup and fresh fruit brought to cool them down, along with a dish of rabbit meat to coax his nephew to eat.
Xie Jing drank two bowls of soup but soon lost his appetite. He toyed absently with the jade pendant in his hand.
Xie Siquan noticed. “What’s that you’ve got there?”
Xie Jing quickly pocketed it and stood. “Nothing. I’m going for a walk.”
No matter how his uncle called after him, the boy didn’t turn back. But since all the land around Douxiang belonged to the Xie family, Xie Siquan wasn’t worried.
Riding out alone, Xie Jing soon spotted a campfire beneath a tall tree.
There sat the same man from the mountain, calm and composed, with only a single attendant nearby. Before him simmered a small pot filled with mushrooms and pheasant — the aroma rich and mouthwatering.
Xie Jing tied his horse and strode over, frowning. “Why are you here? There’s an inn just ahead.”
The man looked up. “I had my reasons.”
Even sitting on a grass mat, his posture was dignified, elegant — the kind that only wealth and breeding could shape. His cool demeanor was strangely familiar to Xie Jing.
The man smiled faintly. “Have you eaten yet?”
Xie Jing sat cross-legged beside him, raising an eyebrow. “Do you know who I am?”
The man chuckled softly. “Little Jing’er.”
Xie Jing’s expression soured, but he still accepted the chicken wing the man handed him and took a bite.
The campfire crackled, sending sparks flying. The attendant tactfully stepped away, leaving the two of them alone.
Bai Jiu spoke first. “Did you receive my letters?”
“I did.”
“Then why didn’t you reply?”
“Why didn’t you come find me!” Xie Jing shot back, biting his lip in anger.
Bai Jiu looked at him for a moment, then his lips curved gently, his tone soft. “That was my fault. I’m here to make it right — don’t be angry, hmm? I came because I want to make peace with you.”
Xie Jing huffed, gnawing on the chicken wing without answering — but he didn’t get up to leave either.
Bai Jiu served him another, knowing it was his favorite since childhood. The wings were perfectly seasoned — when little Jing’er was happy, he could gnaw on one for ages.
