The Oirat men sat in a corner, noisily slurping their mugwort noodles. When they finished, they banged their bowls on the table to signal the owner for more, stacking up a pile of empty bowls at the table’s edge.
Su Yan, Jinghong Zhui, and Aletan sat at the same table, eating and chatting.
Aletan said, “Yesterday, we drove the horses to the grassland by Qingshui outside the east gate. After settling them down, it was already late, so we didn’t enter the city and instead set up tents to sleep on-site. Around noon today, a few people in official Ming uniforms, claiming to be horse procurement officers, came by…”
The officials, upon hearing from the gate guards that a group of Oirat horse traders had arrived with over a hundred fine Northern Desert horses—an exceptionally large-scale operation in recent years—hurried over. They intended to purchase the horses on behalf of the Ming court.
Aletan offered a market price: one horse for 100 jin of tea.
The horse procurement officers only offered 50 jin of tea per horse.
Aletan refused to sell. They raised their offer to 80 jin of tea but added a condition: for each horse, Aletan must pay them a bribe equivalent to 20 jin of tea in gold.
In other words, on paper, the price was 80 jin per horse, but in reality, Aletan would only receive 60 jin, with the difference lining the pockets of these officials.
Aletan didn’t care how they manipulated the accounts, but a net price of 60 jin of tea was unacceptable—it was the price of inferior horses, whereas he had brought robust, high-quality ones.
After repeated refusals, the officials’ attitudes soured. They threatened to mobilize the garrison troops to arrest the traders as spies and execute them. Furious, the Oirat men immediately grabbed their weapons, ready to slaughter the officials on the spot.
Aletan, being more level-headed, used a delaying tactic, saying he needed time to consider and would finalize the deal when the horse market opened. This temporarily defused the crisis.
However, this strategy would only buy them at most two days. If they wanted to continue trading horses at Qingshui Camp, they couldn’t escape the horse procurement officers’ harassment. Worse still, these officials had set their sights on the herd and wouldn’t easily let them leave Lingzhou’s territory, especially with thousands of troops stationed in the city.
Su Yan slammed the table after hearing the story. “The court allocates funds annually to the Shaanxi Bureau and the Ningxia Garrison for horse purchases, yet these officers blatantly take kickbacks, embezzle funds, and engage in coercive trading. Such low-ranking officials dare to act so arrogantly—it must mean they have protection from higher-ups.”
“Protection” was putting it lightly. Su Yan had long suspected that the entire Qingshui Camp, from military commanders to civilian officials, was likely a tightly-knit network. As a collective interest group, higher-ups provided a protective umbrella while subordinates funneled profits upward through extortion, forced sales, and embezzlement.
Corruption had been a persistent issue throughout history. Every ruler had attempted to rectify it, yet it had never been truly eradicated—even in Su Yan’s peaceful and prosperous modern-era past life, it was still commonplace. He couldn’t think of a more effective solution, but if he encountered corrupt officials within his power to handle, he would never let them go unpunished.
Aletan nodded. “I figured as much. I’d heard about corruption at Ming border posts before, but this time I’ve seen it with my own eyes. No wonder—”
He stopped mid-sentence, sparing them the full thought. But Su Yan could guess: No wonder Great Ming has been repeatedly invaded by the Tatars in recent years.
Even Jinghong Zhui, who wasn’t interested in national affairs, felt ashamed and outraged. As for Su Yan, with his modern mindset still partially intact, the words stung deeply.
Isn’t cleansing corruption and uplifting the righteous precisely the purpose of my mission here? Su Yan quickly composed himself and asked Aletan, “Two days will pass in the blink of an eye. How do you plan to deal with this?”
Aletan sighed. “This is a trial task assigned by my tribe’s elders. I thought trading horses in Great Ming would be straightforward, but I underestimated the complexity of the situation here. I haven’t figured out a solution yet—I’ll just have to try raising the price as much as possible when the time comes.”
Su Yan couldn’t think of a solution either. The absence of two critical tools—a royal decree and the Imperial Sword—was a major limitation. Moreover, he lacked the intimidating force of even a small unit of Embroidered Uniform Guard. If he had these, he could crush their opponents with overwhelming power, which would be immensely satisfying.
For now, the priority was to establish contact with Chu Yuan and his group as soon as possible.
Suppressing his inner anxiety, Su Yan said to Aletan, “Although I sympathize with your predicament, my strength is limited, and I haven’t come up with a good plan either. You mentioned earlier that you had a favor to ask—perhaps I can help with that?”
Aletan took out a box from his coat and handed it to Su Yan. “This is a sample tea left by the horse procurement officers. It looks good, but I feel something’s off. Could you evaluate it for me?”
Su Yan opened the box to find a few liang of “Mei tea” with tightly rolled, evenly shaped leaves covered in a frosty green hue. The tea appeared high-quality. He sniffed it—its fragrance was rich, almost overwhelmingly so, as if masking something.
Calling for hot water, he brewed a small pinch in a cup and took a sip.
Within two seconds, he spat it out with a series of “Ptooey” sounds, a look of indescribable disgust on his face.
The tea barely lingered on his tongue for two seconds before he spat it out with a series of “pah pah pah” sounds, his expression indescribable.
Seeing Su Yan’s reaction, Jinghong Zhui assumed it must taste awful. He took the bowl and, drinking from the same spot where Su Yan’s lips had touched, took a sip himself. Surprised, he remarked, “It’s not that bad? The aftertaste is slightly bitter, but the aroma is quite rich.”
Aletan stared at the rim of the bowl where the two had just drunk, a sudden irritation welling up inside him.
He had never been one to care about such details, and in the northern desert tribes, people weren’t as particular as the Central Plains folk. Sharing wine from the same waterskin among a dozen brothers was commonplace. But for some reason, watching the overlapping traces of water sliding down the rim of the bowl felt like a bone stuck in his throat—impossible to ignore, impossible to swallow.
“He’s your bodyguard?” Aletan suddenly asked Su Yan.
Su Yan was rinsing his mouth with fresh water and responded with a nonchalant “Mm.”
“I don’t think he just wants to be your bodyguard.” Aletan grinned at Jinghong Zhui, flashing his teeth like a beast, the scar on his brow arching wildly. “He wants to climb on top of you.”
Su Yan chuckled. “That’s not entirely wrong. Who doesn’t have a bit of ambition? People strive to go higher—seeking greater power and status is only natural.”
Jinghong Zhui’s expression turned icy, his gaze sharp enough to pierce through the ill-intentioned foreigner in front of him. He coldly replied, “I will be my lord’s bodyguard for life—just as you will be nothing more than a horse trader, forever an outsider to my people.”
Barbarians are not of our people; their hearts different. When strong, they are thieves and raiders; when weak, they bow in submission, caring nothing for honor or righteousness—such is their nature.
Su Yan knew that Jinghong Zhui was quoting Wei Zheng to remind him that this Aletan was an inherently untrustworthy barbarian, one whose words should not be believed.
He did indeed remain cautious of Aletan and would not easily show complete trust. However, up to this point, he had yet to see any clear evidence of ill intent. He simply smiled at his personal guard, signaling that he understood and would remain vigilant.
Aletan ignored Jinghong Zhui’s cold words. Picking up his tea bowl, he took a sip and said to Su Yan, “We rarely brew tea like this. We usually boil it with milk and salt to make milk tea, or add butter, milk curd, cheese, roasted barley, and dried beef to make a hearty stew tea. It’s quite flavorful—I’d like you to try it sometime.”
Su Yan chuckled. “I’d love to try it when I get the chance. But precisely because of that, you wouldn’t be able to judge the quality of this tea. And Ah Zhui, who drinks only plain water, wouldn’t be an expert on tea either.”
He tapped the rim of the bowl with his fingers. “This tea has been stored for too long and developed mold. It was re-roasted over a low fire to remove the mold, which left a slightly bitter aftertaste. To mask that, they heavily infused it with spices, making the aroma particularly strong. They deliberately aimed at your Northern Desert tea-drinking habits, knowing you wouldn’t notice the deception.”
Aletan slammed his hand on the table and shot to his feet, furious. “This is an outright insult! Haggling over prices is one thing—there isn’t a trade in the world where people don’t negotiate—but to blatantly sell us inferior goods like this? They clearly look down on us, treating us as ignorant savages!”
His outburst caused the Oirat men who had been eating noodles to leap up as well. Hands gripping their waist blades, they erupted in angry shouts. The restaurant owner cowered behind the counter, and the other patrons, faces filled with fear, were already poised to flee.
Su Yan quickly tried to calm the situation. “Sit down—hey, sit down first! We can talk this through.”
Since meeting Aletan on the road and traveling together, Su Yan had found him to be warm and forthright, someone who spoke with measured courtesy and seemed to have absorbed some influence from Central Plains civilization. This was the first time he had seen him lose his temper like this. With his towering, almost inhuman physique, he now resembled a savage beast from ancient times, one that might open its bloody maw at any moment and tear everything before it to shreds.
Jinghong Zhui, ever sensitive to hostility, instinctively drew his sword in response to the overwhelming tension. The tip of his blade pointed straight at Aletan as he declared sharply, “If you want to rage, direct it at the ones responsible! Don’t you dare act out in front of my young master!”
Sensing the conflict about to erupt, Su Yan quickly patted Jinghong Zhui’s arm. “Calm yourself. Put your sword away first.”
He then walked around the table to Aletan. Initially, he considered patting him on the shoulder as well but hesitated, unsure if the man’s robes had any particular taboos against being touched. In the end, he reached out and lightly tugged at the satin ribbon still tied around Aletan’s left wrist. “You too, Aletan. Cool your head. Sit down and talk.”
The ribbon was tightly wound, with only two short ends dangling. A small jade ornament shaped like bamboo leaves clinked softly as it swayed, its clear ringing sound intermingling with Su Yan’s words, like the murmuring of an icy spring beneath the moon.
Aletan lowered his gaze, meeting Su Yan’s upturned face before shifting his eyes to the ribbon around his wrist. The flames of anger in his eyes gradually faded. He placed his hand on the table’s edge, sat down slowly, and said in a deep voice, “Apologies. That was rude of me.”
Seeing that Aletan had regained his composure and the beast-like aura had dissipated, Su Yan let out a breath of relief. Hooking his foot around a stool, he pulled it closer and sat beside him, speaking in a gentle tone. “I understand. Their actions are both despicable and arrogant, a blatant insult to your people. We, too, have a saying in the Central Plains: A scholar may be killed but not humiliated. But if you lash out and fight them over this, you’re equating yourself with them. An eye for an eye might sound fair, but the question is—are they worth it? If they aren’t, then even if you trade ten lives or a hundred, it’s a loss. Worse, it would only inflate their own worth in the process, wouldn’t it?”
If he had tried persuading Aletan with something like “A man has no choice but to bow under a low eave,” Aletan might not have taken it well—he might even have felt resentment. But telling him “A hundred of their lives aren’t worth even one of yours” carried a different weight. It showed deep respect and consideration, helping to calm his anger while also making him feel even more favorably toward Su Yan.
Aletan disdainfully poured the bowl of tea onto the ground and said to Su Yan, “Thank you for helping me see the truth. I’ll take my men back to Qingshui Grasslands first to discuss our next move. This has nothing to do with you—just go about your business and don’t worry about me. Your guard was right: we met by chance and will soon part ways. No need to trouble yourself.”
He had been warm and friendly before, almost overly familiar, but now his tone had turned abruptly cold. Su Yan knew this was his way of drawing a clear boundary, not wanting to drag him into the matter. With a soft sigh, Su Yan once again tugged lightly at the satin ribbon on Aletan’s wrist and said sincerely, “We may have met by chance, but you’ve left an impression—I won’t forget. I’ll help however I can. I’ll also think of a way; things always work out in the end. Once this is settled, you owe me a pot of your tea.”
Aletan tilted his head and looked at him deeply. His right hand unconsciously brushed over the ribbon, and in that moment, his fingers accidentally touched Su Yan’s as he withdrew his hand. A strange jolt ran through both of them—tingling and hot—making them involuntarily shiver.
Su Yan cursed internally: Sh*t. That felt like a spark?
The original owner of this body might have been into men, but even then, he wouldn’t just start feeling things every time he touched a muscular guy. What the h*ll is this, some kind of pheromone compatibility nonsense? Natural sexual attraction? Absolute bullsh*t. I don’t believe in that cr*p!
As a man with a straight soul, Comrade Su Yan firmly believed that his righteous core values could suppress any deviant impulses from this dead gay shell he was inhabiting. He resisted the urge to bolt 800 meters away and instead maintained a just and honorable smile.
Aletan seemed momentarily dazed but quickly regained himself. He stood, pounded his right fist against his left chest in a slight bow—a tribal gesture of respect—then said something to his men in Oirat dialect.
Seeing one of them walk over to the counter, apparently to settle the bill, Su Yan immediately got up. “I already said I’m treating. No one is allowed to steal the check—leave it to me!”
Aletan glanced at the other table, where stacks of empty noodle bowls were piled high, and looked slightly embarrassed. “They eat too much.”
Su Yan laughed. “I can afford it. A deal’s a deal. Or do you think I can’t?”
Even the Oirat men grinned at this. The one who had been heading for the counter turned around and walked back, saying in broken Chinese, “Words are words! Friends!”
Aletan smiled at Su Yan but said no more, striding out of the noodle shop with head held high.
Jinghong Zhui only sheathed his sword after Aletan’s figure had completely disappeared from view. He said, “This man is no ordinary horse trader. He’s deliberately hiding his identity, likely harboring ulterior motives. My lord, allow me to advise you—it’s unwise to get too close to him.”
Su Yan nodded, “You’re absolutely right.”
The second half of his thought went unsaid: But I might not listen. Jinghong Zhui gave him a helpless look, a wave of frustration surging in his chest. “My lord, are you being so willful because you know no matter what, I’ll always cover for you?”
Feigning surprise, Su Yan looked at him. “Oh? You won’t cover for me? Or was Aletan right—you’re planning to climb on top of me?”
Jinghong Zhui, torn between anger and flustered embarrassment, gritted his teeth and, for the first time, gave Su Yan a cold look before turning to leave.
Now it was Su Yan’s turn to be stunned. Hastily, he took three quick strides to catch up and began coaxing his bodyguard. “Come on, I was joking! Besides, I didn’t say I wouldn’t let you climb. I’ve already told you, everyone should have ambitions. If you really did climb on top of me, I wouldn’t hold it against you…”
Jinghong Zhui, with a stern expression, continued walking forward, though his steps noticeably slowed. With a sigh, he muttered something to himself, visibly conflicted.
Meanwhile, Zhu Yuan and Gao Shuo, accompanied by surviving Embroidered Uniform Guard guards and 500 elite soldiers, were traveling day and night. They were only two days away from the Qingshui Camp in Lingzhou.
