Chapter 37: The Archer Camp: The Temptation of Meat

An Xin felt his life was far too austere.

In Wuren County, which prominent household did not have servants everywhere and maids in droves? The wealthy were accustomed to embracing a maid to sleep at night if they pleased; if they preferred to sleep alone, a single cough would bring the maid on duty from the outer room to attend to them.

Yet, consider him, a dignified county magistrate: he had only one long-term attendant and one gatekeeper. He had to scrounge for meals in the county office canteen, and the small kitchen in his private residence had gathered dust from lack of use. At night, there wasn’t even a soul to run errands; if he wanted a drink of water, he had to pour it himself.

"Sigh..."

An Xin could not help but sigh. Feudalism truly corrupted the heart; he had only been an official for a few days, and already he was fostering thoughts of exploiting the working class.

Lying in bed with his pillows propped up, An Xin held the copy of the *Five Thunders Method* that Wu Damou had sent over today. The so-called "Five Thunders" referred to the lightning of the five elements: metal, wood, water, fire, and earth. Cultivating them corresponded to the five internal organs—the lungs, liver, kidneys, heart, and spleen, respectively. The book was thin, barely ten pages including the annotations, but the content was obscure and written in large seal script. An Xin translated, analyzed, and pondered it sentence by sentence; even after reading until late at night, he had only finished a page and a half.

"If only my computer still had power. If I could import this and use the ancient character dictionary in the archives, I would certainly be able to translate it in no time."

An Xin thought with a touch of regret. With a flick of his finger, a gust of wind extinguished the candle half a meter away on his bedside table.

The loneliness before sleep made him think of Wu Lijun again. He felt that she had a great talent and passion for business. Whenever they discussed commercial topics, she always had endless ideas. When he spoke of modern business models like memberships and loyalty points, she understood them instantly. Entrusting her with the accounts and management in the future would be a good choice.

Rewinding time to the Wu residence.

Upon returning home, Wu Lijun walked in to find Wu Damou sitting in the thatched hall reading. She was just about to tiptoe through the side alley to sneak back to her room in the rear courtyard when she heard a dry cough.

"Ahem!"

"You're back?"

Wu Damou had already put down his book and was looking at her. Seeing that her father was not as furious as she had imagined, Wu Lijun quietly breathed a sigh of relief, though the fear that this was the calm before the storm left her feeling exceptionally unsettled.

"How was it?" Wu Damou beckoned her to the thatched hall and asked with a pleasant expression.

"How was what?" Wu Lijun was extremely anxious.

Wu Damou asked, "How is Young Master Zhang? Did you see him?"

"Father, I—I know you oppose us, but your daughter has grown up. We are a family of merchants; even if we cling to the Su family, we won't gain anything. Besides, as I told you before, I met the Su family's steward at Tuo Mountain. If you don't believe me, there is nothing I can do. But, Father, I must tell you today—I will marry no one but Brother Zhang!"

Although she was nervous, Wu Lijun spoke with great resolve. She was not a delicate young lady raised in a boudoir, but a merchant's daughter who had been using an abacus since childhood. She had her own plans for her future and the courage to resist her fate.

She had expected her father's fury, but instead, she saw his wild joy.

Wu Damou asked, "Say that again?"

"Huh?" Seeing her father’s strange reaction, Wu Lijun was bewildered, but she firmly repeated, "I will marry no one but Brother Zhang!"

"Did he agree as well?" Wu Damou asked urgently.

Wu Lijun, even more confused, nodded blankly.

"Good!" Wu Damou struck his fist into his palm. "Daughter, it is not that I have not respected your opinion these past two years, but that I have had little choice in the matter. Daughter, I agree to your being with Young Master Zhang. But I want to tell you this: if you wish to spend your life with a man, you must be a little more accommodating to him in your dealings and avoid unnecessary jealousy..."

The moment he saw her expression, he knew the magistrate had not revealed his identity to her. Though he did not know why, he felt he should not tell her either. Being a man himself, he assumed the magistrate might prefer this dynamic, and his daughter might fare better if they interacted as they were. If she were to become timid and submissive after learning his true status, she might end up less favored. Even so, he offered earnest advice, urging her not to anger An Xin and to yield to him during their interactions.

Though Wu Lijun was puzzled, she was overjoyed to see the wall that had stood between her and her father finally open a door. She remained in a daze until she reached her room. Even before falling asleep, she could not understand why her father’s attitude had undergone such a complete reversal.

The rooster crowed at dawn, and the sky turned bright. The bailiffs cleared the path, holding high the signs reading "Silence" and "Keep Away."

The gongs sounded to open the way, and the commoners yielded the main road. The official placard behind read "Magistrate of Wuren County." With a retinue of over twenty people, the procession made a grand show of force as it headed toward the military camp outside the city.

There is no such thing as an airtight wall; as soon as the magistrate’s procession left the city, those in the know were already aware that he was heading to the archer camp, which had been conscripted to combat bandits. Some of the commoners who had suffered greatly at the hands of the bandits immediately felt a bit of goodwill toward this new official, believing him to be someone willing to get things done.

Inside the sedan chair, An Xin felt his heart thumping. Just moments ago, he had lifted a corner of the curtain and seen the silent, bowing crowd outside. The sight of that vast sea of people clearing the way and paying respects to him—the very image of "privilege"—had struck his mind in a visceral way, causing his heartbeat to accelerate involuntarily.

"Being an official in a feudal society is certainly more satisfying," An Xin thought with mixed feelings.

Yet, at the same time, a sense of responsibility sprouted in his heart. This time, it was not due to the cultivation of the Panlong Seal, but a personal sense of duty to those who were the actual source of his power. In the end, he had come to this era and adapted, using methods no different from other officials, yet there remained a scale in his heart, a core, and a dash of hot blood that was hard to cool.

By the time An Xin arrived at the south city drill ground, it was seven o'clock, just in time for the meal. Because the canteen had not yet been built, the food was steamed and stir-fried in an open space not far from the field.

The aroma of the food made the stomachs of the starving soldiers growl. Yet, as they stood on the field as if being punished, not one dared to move or speak. The cautionary tales of the seven or eight men who had been stripped, beaten with military staves, and carried away were still fresh in their minds. Those whose buttocks were swollen like steamed buns were not even given breakfast, and they had caused their entire "squad" to miss out on the meat dishes the magistrate had specially prepared.

But the scent of the pork cracklings was like a hook, drilling straight into their noses. Crispy lard cracklings stir-fried with salty pickled vegetables in an iron pot—every sizzle made their throats bob. The sound of the cook clanging his iron ladle against the edge of the pot was more nerve-wracking than the drums of war.

Someone couldn't help but glance sideways—in the coarse ceramic bowls by the stove, the golden cracklings glistened, with a few sesame seeds clinging to the edges, shining like scattered gold in the morning sun.

He had just swallowed a mouthful of saliva when the tip of Wei Shuye’s whip lashed the mud right by his ear, kicking up a cloud of dust with a "snap."

The morning breeze carried the scent of meat across the phalanx, and a chorus of gut-rumbling echoed through the ranks, sounding like a pack of starving wild dogs whining in the distance.