Chapter 673
Chapter 673
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>Translator: Ryuma
>Chapter: 673
>Chapter Title: The Tanka Folk
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“Not just the Child God?” Hearing this, Li Huowang felt a chill run through his entire body. He’d been in Great Liang the whole time and hadn’t paid any attention to this side at all.
Now that he thought back, Xuanyin was absolutely right. When the Dharma Sect first appeared, the Surveillance Bureau had hunted them down everywhere, even mobilizing the military to deal with them.
Yet even in that environment, they’d managed to wipe out Siqi and Nanping, and even push into Hou Shu.
Even if those countries were in bad shape, plagued by constant wars and inept courts, for the Dharma Sect to expand this fast in just a few short years seemed far too abnormal.
“So it’s not just the Child God—there are other Sages opposing us?” Li Huowang’s expression was exceptionally grave as he asked the Xuanyin before him.
No matter the force involved, tracing it back to the root, the problem ultimately lay with the Dharma Sect backing them.
Xuanyin shook his head slightly. “Opposing us? Why do you assume all Sages will stand on our side? Can you even guess what the Sages are thinking? If they say they’ll help you, do you really believe them?”
Hearing this, Li Huowang’s heart couldn’t settle for a long time. A terrifying suspicion surfaced in his mind. “You’re not saying that every single Sage in White Jade Capital is actually in league with the Child God, are you?”
“Surveillance Bureau, Surveillance Bureau—this heaven must still be monitored in the end, whether they do it or not. Don’t count on anyone else, and don’t hand your fate over to others.” With that, Xuanyin’s massive red Daoist robe began slowly turning transparent.
“No matter what’s secretly aiding the Dharma Sect, be careful once you reach Hou Shu. Beneath these heavens, there are still plenty of things that can kill you.”
“Though I don’t trust you, at least when it comes to dealing with the Child God, you and I are allies. I’ve already spoken to the Superintendent of Destiny—they’ll assist you with anything you command.”
After delivering that final line, Xuanyin’s body vanished completely, leaving Li Huowang standing alone.
In the dim underground chamber, Li Huowang stood lost in thought for a long while with a deeply grave expression before finally turning and striding out of the gloomy room.
Once he emerged, Li Sui and Bai Lingmiao, who had been waiting, crowded around him. “Senior Brother Li, how’d it go? They didn’t give you any trouble just now, did they?”
Li Huowang shook his head slightly before replying, “It’s fine. Tell your people to stock up on supplies quickly. We’re leaving this city.”
“We just got here and we’re leaving already? Where to next?”
“Hou Shu.”
“Hou Shu? You really wanna go there? That place is a war zone right now. These past few years, all I’ve seen are refugees fleeing out—no one rushing in.” The skipper, missing a front tooth, squatted barefoot on the deck as he eyed the two youngsters before him.
One was a teenage boy, maybe thirteen or fourteen, the other a striking woman in her twenties or thirties. Mother and son? The ages didn’t match. Siblings? Their dynamic didn’t quite fit either.
“It’s fine—we’re not heading deep into Hou Shu. We just need a boat to Zhenhai Cape on the edge. Skipper, please do us this favor.”
As the skipper hesitated, Yang Kid handed over the letter from Sun Baolu’s clansmen. “These are chaotic times—I don’t wanna wander blindly either. But I’m Tanka folk, and my parents are still there. I’m going to rescue them. I really have no choice.”
“You’re Tanka? You don’t look it from your getup.” The skipper opened the envelope and scanned it quickly.
Once he finished reading, the suspicion in his eyes eased a bit. “That filial heart of yours is commendable, sure. But our big boat hauling just you alone... isn’t that a bit...”
At this point, he spotted the silver Yang Kid was holding out in both hands. He reached over, took it, and tucked it away in his bosom along with the letter.
“Aw, hell. Who am I to talk—who made me a filial son myself? For your folks, we’ll make the trip.”
Hearing this, Yang Kid thanked him profusely. At last, he’d see his family!
With the sails unfurling swiftly, Yang Kid led the horse and cart aboard the weathered but decent-sized flat-bottomed boat.
The sea wind filled the sail, and the flatboat gradually pulled away from the harbor. As the dock shrank in the distance, Yang Kid’s excitement mingled with his ongoing caution toward the crew.
He’d stocked plenty of fresh water and dry rations—enough for the voyage—so they wouldn’t have to risk being drugged.
He hadn’t forgotten that time on the river with Senior Brother Li, when the water bandits had forced them to pick between rolled noodles or wontons.
The skipper clearly noticed Yang Kid’s wariness. Truth be told, they were just as wary of him.
Chaotic times like these—a half-grown kid and a lone woman running around? They had to have some tricks up their sleeves.
Amid the mutual suspicion, the days slipped by. But as they drew nearer their destination, constant proximity wore down the tension on both sides.
When Yang Kid learned they were almost there, he sidled up to the skipper, who was fishing. “Skipper, how many years you been running these seas?”
“Heh, going on twenty or thirty for me. Factor in my dad and grandpa? Even longer. Old family trade. Some goods can’t take the dirt roads, so they go by sea.”
At this, Yang Kid asked with genuine curiosity, “That long? Skipper, you ever dealt with Tanka folk?”
“Dealt? All the time. You eat off the sea, you deal with ’em.” Saying so, the skipper straightened up on his stool and began jigging the rod left and right.
“So what’re they like? Easy to get along with?” Yang Kid asked, a touch nervous.
He knew by now that his family were Tanka folk who lived at sea, but that was it.
The skipper, reeling in and letting out line by turns, shot him a surprised glance. “Ain’t you Tanka yourself? You don’t know what your own kin are like?”
“I... I got sent ashore right after I was born, so I don’t know what home’s like.”
Lame as the excuse was, the skipper didn’t call him on it. “Tanka folk? What else—men fish, women dive for pearls. Same as any shorebound dirt farmers. Good haul? They’re fine. Bad haul? That’s rough.”
Yang Kid’s face fell a little. After all, he’d been sold off during one of those bad hauls.
“These Tanka may look dirt poor, but the poorer they get, the more customs they got. I generally steer clear.” As he spoke, the skipper kept at it—one reel, two, three—hauling in the line.