Chương 2: Chapter 46: The Mysterious Peddler of Chengdu

Martial Tales Of Lee Song - 002 The Mysterious Peddler of Chengdu As exhilarating as the move was, the end of the journey was a breath of fresh air. Off to the West and South, the white caps of the Sichuan Mountains were just visible above the horizon. The ground was lush, and full of life. Actual broad-leaved trees, even copses, began to dot the landscape as the craggy arid outcrops of the steppe slowly made way for rolling green foothills and wet meadows.

Changpo claimed the tallest hill, as they always did, and began pitching their yurts. Here, the Yu family claimed pride of place at the top; whether it was through politics or some other method, Song didn't know. The first thing in the ground was not yurt-pillars, but changpo flowers. Most were the worse for wear after all this time in transit, but the Yu's had fertilizers aplenty, rich with Wood qi and the flowers would recover quickly.

Unfortunately, the person in the Lee family currently responsible for planting was too weak to even lift a hand to start.

"I'm sorry cousin cough Song." Mae rasped.

"For making you do my job."

"It's fine," Song whispered, patting her hand.

"I always loved handling the changpo flowers."

"But, but, I wanted to see the peddlers. I saved up for a new doll," Mae tried to sit up, but failed. Tears leaked from her eyes.

"I wannnnaaa."

"I'll get a doll for you, promise. You rest." Song pulled the covers up to his little cousin's chin, and ran his hand over her hair. She fell right back to sleep. Her face was red, and faint flecks of what looked like stone were hardening on her left cheek. Song waited for a minute, then slowly withdrew his hand and walked out of Seok's yurt wagon. Seojoon was waiting for him at the flap, fuming.

"A fever, and a cold. I can't believe I didn't notice," Soejoon hissed. Song felt a knot in his belly. Why were children so good at hiding their weakness?

"Does Physician Minsu know what's wrong with her?"

"His preliminary diagnosis is Earth qi poisoning." Song winced. That was what had killed Granny Bora's daughter, and many others besides.

"How?"

"Who knows!" He snapped, "She could've harvested flowers where the qi was thick, or eaten something she shouldn't, or played with a rock full of Earth qi." Every so often someone in the village would get qi poisoning. Most recovered, but they lost a single person every decade or so. The unlucky victim usually found a pocket of strong Wood or Earth qi, and instead of deviating and becoming a Demonic Cultivator, their body rejected the excess qi and tore itself apart. A process that was both long and painful.

Song whispered, "Is she going to make it?"

"Things have changed a lot since the last time someone got sick." Seojoon rubbed his face.

"The Divine Physician released some new medical journals on qi poisoning, and Elder Minsu thinks he may be able to stabilize Mae long enough for her body to adapt. She might become a Demonic Cultivator, but… she'll live." Song didn't know what to say. Seojoon handed Song ten large bronze coins.

"Here, for the doll." Song felt a pit form in his stomach and pushed the coins away.

"No. I'm still on punishment, remember? I have to do whatever a Lee asks. If Mae wants me to go get her a doll, I'll do it."

"Thank you Song." Seojoon hesitated.

"And… I'm sorry about what happened with Hamin."

"I'm sorry too. How is he doing?" Seojoon scowled.

"Not well. The other warriors aren't happy about him drawing a weapon on family. Especially a… well, a child. Sorry." He shrugged. Song sighed.

"It's fine. Hunter An twists that dagger deep enough that I don't care anymore." Seojoon laughed.

"Now there's a piece of jade in the mud! I've always wondered what brought her to Changpo."

"I don't know. But some of what she's said… I think she ran away from her family. Maybe a suitor, or an arranged marriage."

"What a waste… I need to go, Song. Thanks for your help." Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

"Of course, Seojoon." Seojoon disappeared back into the flap of Seok's yurtwagon, leaving Song alone to trudge down the hill. Well, almost alone. ["I hope she's okay. God, she looked bad. Is qi poisoning bad? Will she be okay?"] Song shot back a quick reassurance that he didn't really feel himself. ["Minsu good. Poison bad."] Song dodged around a small clan setting up their yurt with practiced hands.

He used starlight bridge to hop past an ornery flock of sheep, and then finally arrived at the entrance to the village. Not that there was much of an 'entrance' yet. The burliest and strongest members of the village – mostly Lee family cultivators – were busy digging holes and burying spiked logs to rebuild the village walls. Song was barely able to see Wook around the bend of the hill, his deel off and muscles rippling while he levered a support post into the ground.

Clustered at the foot of the hill beside the still-incomplete gate were several dozen men and women arrayed around various fancy carts and wagons. They wore a mix of garbs, everything from imperial hanfu, to guzhuang like Dami preferred, to eastern style hanbocks and even the occasional deel. Their guards mostly wore the simple mix-matched armour of second or third rate warriors, though a few of the better dressed contingents had guards in matching uniforms, or even martial arts robes.

These were the peddlers of Chengdu. They were racing ahead of the monsoon, hoping to follow the straight road cleared by the movement of Changpo before the rains hit. Nakjo was the most direct path across the wide continent of Lemuria, and allowed for easy travel between the major provinces of Sichuan, Xinjiang, and Silla, and to the ports that lead to the continent of Huoyan beyond. But Nakjo was dangerous.

Which was why the peddlers always appreciated the nomads clearing the plains, even if the Imperial court always kept them under a wary, tight control. It was the little things. Like the fact that they couldn't approach a major city, or that they were required to present the local governors a schedule and route for each year. They were limited on the number of horses they could own and they could only have so many weapons made of imperial steel.

"Ungrateful," Song grumbled, eyeing a contingent of Imperial soldiers who'd accompanied the peddlers from Chengdu's easternmost waystation. They were in a heated conversation with Auntie Eunjie, who was holding up a blackened grasswolf pelt. The money from that kill was currently jingling in Song's pocket, though it'd only amounted to a few silver nyang after being divided between him, Dami, Iseul, and Jinu. Ah well. He was still young, and didn't have to concern himself with politics.

Not when there was the Gangho calling his name! There were several traders that Song recognized. Those who'd built strong relations with his family, or Changpo as a whole. He visited them first, perusing their wares and taking compliments for his new cultivator status. He kept his qi cycling at all times these days, both because he loved how his new meridian lines shone brightly on his hands and neck, and because it allowed him to more easily and quickly talk to Cyrus. The usual traders carried their usual wares.

Pots. Pans. Tools and ropes that were either too difficult or too specialized for the artisans of Changpo to build. In return they asked for exorbitant prices, but not so high that the honour-obsessed cultivators of Changpo would take offence. Song bought fancy lacquered chopsticks for his mother, and a pair of musical shakers made of shells and beads. He sadly passed on a high quality four-stringed pipa, he currently had no time or energy for a new instrument, as well as a set of imperial steel armguards.

Though he made note of them for Wook later. Cyrus kept up a constant stream of questions, most of which were about money. ["So there's no bills, just coins?"] Song quirked his eyebrows, hiding his confusion by examining a wok with far more interest than it warranted. ["Use bills? Bird?"] ["No, not a bird-bill. A paper-bill. Paper money."] ["Paper. Book?"] ["We used it for money too. With pretty pictures. Like art, but actually worth money."] Song considered that. Art was quite valuable to the right buyer.

Painting was seen as one of the three perfections, alongside calligraphy and poetry. In fact, Taeyang's dream was to make his place as a poet in one of the major cities. Too bad he was terrible at it. ["Okay, so I know there's gold. That yuanbao boat thing. Then there's a silver version of it called a nyang. Ten nyang to one gold. Is that right?"] Song nodded. ["Yes, though while the boat is called a yuanbao, we refer to it as gold when discussing payment. Gold yuanbao, silver nyang, big bronze junbgo, small bronze tongbo, iron mun. Ten each."] Song ran a long string of coins through his hand, pretending that he was considering how much he had, while showing them all off to Cyrus. Imperial coins were round and roughly the width of a thumb for the jungbo, and finger for a tongbo and mun. They had a square hole in their center, and it was common to run corded lengths of rope through them for easy counting and carrying.

["Ten mun make a tongbo, ten tongbo to a jungbo and so on and so forth."] Cyrus mused aloud. ["And if I recall correctly, a big bronze jungbo is worth… a cup of tea at the guanz. Is that right?"] ["Yes."] ["So it roughly equal a dollar, then. Assuming economies of scale are the same. It even looks like one, just with a hole through it. Neat."] Song barely kept from rolling his eyes. What exactly about messy Imperial coinage was tidy? This Canadian had such odd turns of phrase.

Moving past the traders he knew, Song surveyed the other peddlers. They were wide and varied, carrying everything from books to parasols. But what caught his attention was a small but ornate and well-made cart off to the side of the path, with a tall black horse demurely eating grass beside it. The beast was easily twice the height of Bongbong, with thick muscles and a gorgeous flank. But what stood out the most were the faint wisps of shadow flickering from its hooves. ["Cool horse."] Cyrus remarked.

Song's eyes shone with curiosity.

"A shade beast."