Chapter 30: The Journey

Qian Dahu, a man of seasoned experience, caught a glimpse of Wang Mingyuan’s staggering gait and pale complexion from the corner of his eye and immediately realized that the scholar could no longer hold on.

He reined in his horse and rode over to the lead merchant—a shrewd-looking middle-aged man dressed in a silk tunic—and exchanged a few whispered words while gesturing toward Mingyuan.

The merchant observed Mingyuan’s struggling form, then glanced at Wang Daniu, who was walking alongside with a mountain of luggage on his back yet maintained a posture as straight as a spear. Finding the brothers rather intriguing, the merchant waved his hand with a casual nod.

"Brother Wang, let the third lad squeeze into the last mule cart! It’s only loaded with mountain mushrooms; it’s light and won't get crushed!" Qian Dahu called out loudly.

Mingyuan’s face flushed with embarrassment, but urged on by his older brother, he allowed himself to be helped onto the final cart.

The cart was indeed piled high with bulging burlap sacks, which emitted a rich, earthy aroma of fungi. He found a relatively flat corner, sat down, and finally let out a sigh of relief—at least he didn't have to walk anymore!

Yet, within an hour, the ride turned into a form of torture.

Every violent jolt sent his stomach churning, threatening to bring up the meager flatbread he had eaten for breakfast. He was forced to grip the side of the cart so tightly his knuckles turned white. Looking at the other merchants nearby, he saw they were already accustomed to the motion, leaning against the cargo and drifting into sleep.

His brother, Wang Daniu, who was walking beside the cart with that astonishing rattan frame on his back, maintained a steady, powerful pace, his breathing rhythmic and deep. He even had the spare energy to check on his younger brother on the cart from time to time.

In contrast, Mingyuan, despite riding empty-handed, was jolted into a state of paleness and cold sweat. This stark comparison made his face burn with shame and ignited a new resolve within him: he would have to train his body properly in the future. How else would he endure the grueling demands of his upcoming examinations?

As dusk fell, Qian Dahu finally ordered the group to set up camp in front of a long-abandoned temple of the Mountain God.

The temple was dilapidated, its doors and windows rotting and its statue covered in dust and toppled over, but at least the walls provided some shelter from the wind. The group worked together to clear a space, lit a campfire, and brought out their cold, hard rations to eat with gulps of water. After a day of travel, everyone was utterly exhausted.

It was then that Wang Daniu began a "performance" that left everyone in awe.

He unshouldered his mountain-like load and nimbly pulled out a pile of items. First, he found a corner sheltered from the wind, laid out a thick, waterproof felt rug, topped it with a heavy mattress, and finally shook out a soft, fluffy cotton quilt. A cozy "nest" was formed in an instant.

Then, under the curious gazes of the others, he took down the large iron pot that Mingyuan had complained about the entire journey. He fetched a full pot of water from a nearby stream, placed it over the campfire, and added dry wood with practiced ease.

Soon, the water boiled. Daniu tossed in several handfuls of coarse rice and stirred it with a long wooden spoon. He then opened a large ceramic jar, took out several oil-paper-wrapped pieces of red, glistening cured meat, chopped them into small cubes, added a handful of dried wild vegetables, and dumped everything into the pot.

Before long, a rich aroma of rice, mingled with the savory saltiness of the cured meat and the fresh scent of wild vegetables, filled the ruined temple, aggressively overpowering the smell of everyone else’s dry rations.

A steaming, hearty pot of meat porridge was ready!

The sound of people swallowing their saliva echoed through the temple.

During the day, the others had only been amazed by Daniu’s strength, but now, watching him produce such a hot meal as if by magic, their eyes were filled with nothing but raw shock and envy. The cold flatbreads and hard buns in their own hands suddenly became difficult to swallow.

Wang Daniu smiled good-naturedly and took out several thick wooden bowls. He first filled a bowl for the expectant Qian Dahu and the shrewd merchant, then served some to the nearby guards who had been watching with longing eyes.

"Have a taste, everyone. It’s just home cooking, nothing fancy, but it’ll warm you up." His voice was soft but sincere.

"Oh my! Brother Wang, this... how could we?"

Though Qian Dahu spoke with hesitation, his hands were honest as he took the bowl; the intoxicating aroma was impossible to refuse.

"Many thanks, Brother Wang!"

"So fragrant! Thank you, thank you!"

The group offered their thanks, their gratitude clear to see.

As the hot porridge went down, it dispelled the chill and eased their fatigue. Mingyuan also held a bowl, sipping it slowly. The warm, thick porridge slid down his throat, spreading heat to his very limbs. Accompanied by a flatbread his brother had toasted by the fire, this dinner in the wilderness felt like an extravagant luxury.

After serving everyone, there was still nearly half a pot left. Wang Daniu used the large ladle to scoop it up, eating it alongside a plate-sized, hard flour cake, devouring it with gusto. His bold manner and astonishing speed once again made the room fill with gasps of surprise.

Mingyuan, long accustomed to this, simply looked away.

The part that truly made people jealous was yet to come.

After dinner, Daniu used a thick rag to clean the iron pot at the stream, filled it with fresh water, and set it to boil again. Once the water was pleasantly warm, he brought out the large wooden tub that had been sitting next to the rattan basket! He mixed in some cold water to adjust the temperature and carried it over to Mingyuan.

"Here, Third Brother, soak your feet. It’ll help with the fatigue. You’ve been walking all day; a good soak will do you good."

Daniu’s tone was as natural as if he were commenting on the weather.

The temple fell silent, save for the crackling of the firewood. Every eye was fixed on the steaming wooden tub and Mingyuan’s embarrassed face.

Envy? No, that was already looking up to him in awe!

Mingyuan’s face burned; he felt as though he were the center of attention. This treatment was far too ostentatious! He quickly tried to refuse:

"Brother, there's no need, really. I can just wipe them off..."

"A soak is good for you. Your constitution isn't like ours, we're just rough folk. Soaking them will help you sleep soundly."

Daniu insisted, pressing him down onto the bedding and removing his shoes and socks. When Mingyuan’s feet, which had developed several blisters and were slightly swollen from the morning, sank into the warm water, he couldn't help but let out a long sigh of relief.

The hot water enveloped his aching ankles, a feeling that was nothing short of ascending from hell to heaven. He could clearly feel the gazes of everyone around him, thick with envy.

Under Daniu’s repeated invitations, the merchant and the guards couldn't bring themselves to join in—they had already accepted the favor of a hot meal, and to join in for a foot soak? They couldn't bring themselves to be that thick-skinned.

After soaking his feet, Mingyuan curled up in the soft, thick cotton quilt, which smelled of sunlight and soap. Beneath him, the thick mattress and felt rug insulated him from the damp, cold ground.

Looking around, he saw most others sleeping on the bare floor, or at best, a bit of hay or a thin mat. The stark contrast made him feel a mix of awkwardness and immense security.

He buried his face in the quilt that carried the scent of home, his eyes growing warm.

Wang Daniu wrapped himself in another heavy, old cotton quilt, leaned against the wall next to his brother, and was soon emitting a soft, rhythmic snore.

The next day, before dawn, the caravan set off again. After the previous day’s experience, the shock of the Wang brothers’ "luxury" luggage had faded into a dull numbness, replaced by pure envy and sighs—to think that traveling could be so comfortable!

The premise, of course, was having an older brother who could carry a mountain, was as meticulous as could be, and was willing to lavish everything good upon you.

The journey repeated the monotony and jolting of the previous day. Mingyuan sat on the cart, tossed about like a ragdoll, while Daniu carried his mountain, his steps steady as he walked alongside the caravan.

Finally, on the third day, as the setting sun dyed the western sky a magnificent orange-red, the guard at the front of the caravan suddenly pointed into the distance and shouted excitedly: "Boss! Look! The county town! I can see the city walls!"

Mingyuan was shocked out of his drowsiness. He struggled to sit up in the jolting cart and looked out into the distance.

Indeed! On the horizon, where the dusk was settling, the outline of a winding, greenish-gray city wall stood clearly against the sky!

The crenellations visible on the walls and the faint movement of people at the city gate silently announced that their destination was just ahead!

Qian Dahu’s spirits lifted, and he urged them on in a booming voice: "Keep your spirits up! Pick up the pace! We must enter the city and find a place to stay before dark! Move!"

The mules and horses seemed to sense their master’s urgency and quickened their stride.

The wheels rolled on, racing toward the county town ahead.