Volume One: The Journey of the Useless, Ignition and Demon-Slaying Chapter Thirty-Eight: A Lamb Among Tigers, Calamity Unceasing

Chen San furrowed his brows, incredulous, as he stared fixedly at the long line by the city gate and the copper coins and silver pieces displayed on the table. Swallowing nervously, he stammered, “I—I say, it’s my first time entering the city. Seeing this queue ahead, do we have to pay some silver to get in?”

Chang Yu burst out laughing. “So you stopped just for this? Of course you have to pay an entry tax to enter the city. Towns aren’t like small villages. Every city I’ve been to with my father requires an entry tax. It’s not much, so why are you so frightened? Just look at your lack of nerve.”

Chen San’s greatest weakness was hearing others ridicule him. Hearing Chang Yu’s words, he flushed with embarrassment and retorted, “You’re brave, you’re brave. If you’re so brave, pay the entry tax then.”

Chang Yu pouted. “I never carry silver when I go out. All my money is with Cui’er. If you want me to pay, bring Cui’er from my home and let her handle it. Honestly, she’s been away these days and I’ve felt quite out of sorts.”

“I…”

Chen San, already tongue-tied, was no match for a well-educated girl like Chang Yu. One round and he was defeated. He had to pay the money himself, and on top of losing the argument, he was left with no one to complain to. Chang Yu was sharp-tongued and had never lost a verbal spar. Chen San never got the upper hand, suffering for his lack of education. Such was fate: every person meets their match. Chen San always teased Yang Chengzi, so naturally someone would tease him.

He rubbed his nose and glanced at Yang Chengzi and the others.

“Let’s go, let’s go. It’s just the entry tax. If we run out of money, let your husband tell fortunes again. If worse comes to worst, I’ll go back to the street and drum up business. It’s not the first time, anyway.”

Chang Yu, hearing Chen San mention fortune-telling and hustling for customers, couldn’t help but laugh loudly.

“Hahaha! Who’d have thought you two were so capable? You especially—hustling for customers! Hahaha… Come on, tell me about it, tell me about it.”

Chen San rolled his eyes and waved his hand playfully. “Go, go. We’ve got serious business to attend to. Ask your husband about these trivial matters. Wasn’t it him who foretold all this?”

Chang Yu was laughing so hard she couldn’t catch her breath. Clutching her stomach, she went to ask Yang Chengzi for the details, but before she could speak, Yang Chengzi replied, “No rush, there’ll be another chance. You can watch Chen San hustle for customers yourself.”

Chang Yu was bewildered, imagining them: one solemnly telling fortunes, the other making faces and acting coquettish to attract customers on the street. She couldn’t stop laughing.

To those waiting to enter the city, this group was lively indeed.

They queued at the back, waiting their turn. Eight people paid a whole tael of silver. Though Yang Chengzi had earned the money, it was no small feat, and Chen San felt a pang of heartache, deeply reluctant.

To Chen San, paying silver ought to yield something tangible—like buying clothes that could last a year or more. But here, he spent a tael before even entering the city, and saw nothing for it. He was thoroughly displeased.

Once inside, dusk was falling. The city was indeed different from the small town. Chen Family Town was pleasant enough, bustling with merchants, but it was at night that the differences revealed themselves.

In Chen Family Town, nightfall meant everyone went home or to bed. The streets were deserted, save for the night watchman and a handful of stray dogs.

Wu City was different. Chen San and his companions arrived late and missed the daytime bustle, but the city’s nightlife captivated him so completely he didn’t want to leave.

Every household hung lanterns high, the taverns and opera houses were lively, and the streets brimmed with curiosities that kept his eyes darting from one thing to another. Trinkets and ornaments tempted his hands; he longed to touch and inspect each one like a child of seven or eight.

None of them, except Chang Yu, had ever been to a city, and they were so enchanted by the night market that they forgot they still needed to find an inn.

After admiring a few trinkets, Chang Yu tugged at Yang Chengzi. “Husband, when will we find an inn? I’d like something to eat and a bath.”

Yang Chengzi, unused to Chang Yu clinging to him, brushed her off. “Miss Chang Yu, please don’t call me husband. ‘Daoist Yang’ suits me better—I’m accustomed to it. And don’t lean on me; it’s improper if people see. I am a Daoist, cultivating virtue. I cannot indulge in romance.”

Chang Yu was thoroughly displeased, but being clever, she pouted and said, “All right, Daoist Yang. This young lady will do as you say. So, may we find an inn now? We haven’t eaten all day—aren’t you hungry?”

At that moment, Master Sui Chang spoke up: “Indeed, Daoist Yang. We’ve been traveling all day; the young men are exhausted.”

Yang Chengzi nodded. “The master is right. Everyone’s worked hard. I’ll have Chen San find an inn so we can eat first.”

With that, he wove through the crowd to find Chen San. Before long, the two returned, only to find Chang Yu and the others surrounded by a noisy throng.

Curious, Chen San pushed through the onlookers to see what was happening, and was stunned to find a richly dressed young noble, surrounded by a group of thugs, with four men lying on the ground—none other than the four who carried Master Sui Chang.

Chen San was bewildered, glancing from the fallen men to Chang Yu, and grew furious when he saw the young noble’s hand reaching for Chang Yu’s cheek. Master Sui Chang was pinned to a chair by two burly men, unable to move.

This was intolerable. Though Chang Yu was not his wife and often teased him, only he was allowed to tease her—not let some bully harass her. Without hesitation, Chen San swung a kick at the noble’s outstretched hand.

Caught off guard, the young noble, untrained in martial arts, fell hard, rolling sideways and landing flat on his back with a groan, unable to get up.

The thugs, seeing their master kicked, rushed to attack, fists flying.

Chang Yu screamed, clutching her head in terror.

While she was no fighter, Chen San, though thin, was tougher than most. He’d faced fierce ghosts and monsters; his courage was formidable—he feared no man. He rolled up his sleeves, ready for a brawl.

Suddenly, a dull thud sounded as the Shangqing Sword shot out from behind Chen San, striking the foremost thug, who collapsed instantly. Yang Chengzi darted forward and caught the sword.

The crowd was dumbfounded. Though the Shangqing Sword remained sheathed, Yang Chengzi’s strength was astonishing, and the thug lay gasping on the ground, barely alive.

The rest froze, cowed by Yang Chengzi’s cold gaze and their lack of weapons.

Though weapons were permitted in Wu City, few carried them openly; only martial artists like Yang Chengzi and his companions did so. Ordinary citizens never carried arms.

The thugs looked at one another, then at their fallen master, and finally retreated to help him up. The young noble, now upright, glared at Chen San and his group, grinding his teeth.

“You’d better watch yourselves! No one dares lay a hand on me in Wu City. You must be tired of living. Let’s go!”

With that, his entourage slunk away, leaving the crowd to buzz with speculation.

Some praised Chen San’s group for teaching the bullies a lesson, while others warned they’d soon be in trouble.

Yang Chengzi ignored the chatter, helping Chen San lift the four battered youths and approach Chang Yu.

“Are you all right? Why did they target you?”

Chang Yu, still shaken, replied, “I don’t know. You’d just gone to find Chen San when they came up from behind. That bully touched me, I cursed him, and they started a fight.

Luckily these brothers intervened, but they were outnumbered and quickly beaten. The bully tried to harass me in public, and then you arrived.”

Chen San stuck his head in and asked, “Did he touch your backside?” Then quickly withdrew.

Chang Yu stomped her foot in anger, tears brimming as she looked to Yang Chengzi.

Yang Chengzi’s face remained expressionless. “It’s over. Let’s go. We’ve found an inn, so let’s eat and let you bathe. Rest well tonight.”

Chang Yu pouted, dissatisfied with his attitude but unable to vent, so she followed them angrily.

The inn they found was quite large, with over twenty guest rooms on the upper floor and a bustling tavern below. At the center stood a grand stage, where operas and acrobatic performances alternated, making the place lively.

As soon as they entered, Chen San’s attention was drawn to the stage. Yang Chengzi instructed the attendant to arrange three rooms: one for the four young men, one for Yang Chengzi, Chen San, and Master Sui Chang, and a room for Chang Yu, who as a lady deserved her own.

For safety, Chang Yu’s room was next to theirs, so they could reach her quickly if needed.

With rooms settled, it was time to pay. Yang Chengzi patted Chen San and motioned for him to pay.

“Hand over the silver. We’ll eat downstairs soon; you’ll have plenty of time to look around.”

Chen San, still transfixed by the stage, asked absentmindedly, “How much?”

The attendant replied cheerily, “Sir, two large rooms and one private room—four taels of silver in total.”

Chen San turned, incredulous, and asked again.

“Sir, the prices are posted. Two large rooms, one private—four taels of silver.”

Chen San grimaced and suggested to Chang Yu, “How about you try a beauty trick? If I heard right, this is daylight robbery.”

Chang Yu, still pouting, felt a bit better seeing Chen San’s sour face.

“Look at you—so easily flustered over four taels. And you expect me to use a beauty trick? Bring my Cui’er and I’ll pay for you.”

Chen San rolled his eyes, handed over the silver, and the attendant swiftly led them upstairs. After settling their things, they came down for dinner. The four young men took a table, ordered meat and dishes to reward them for carrying Master Sui Chang all day.

Chen San, Yang Chengzi, and Chang Yu sat together. Master Sui Chang, unable to walk, stayed in his room and had food sent up, which suited him—he found the tavern too noisy for a monk dedicated to quiet cultivation.

Chen San, however, was enthralled. He couldn’t understand the opera, but the lively atmosphere and unfamiliar sights held his gaze.

Yang Chengzi ordered several vegetarian dishes, Chang Yu asked for a mandarin fish, and Chen San, unfussy, ordered a beggar’s chicken and two large bowls of rice. He ate everything, not picky in the least. Chang Yu wanted to offer Yang Chengzi some fish, but seeing him eat only vegetables, she refrained.

Watching Yang Chengzi eat with refined manners, then glancing at Chen San, who wolfed down his food with rice all over his face, Chang Yu looked on in disgust.

“Honestly, Chen San, can’t you learn from the master and eat slowly? You’ve got rice up your nose—have you been starving for eight hundred years? Want me to order you a roast duck?”

Chen San, waving his chicken leg, didn’t look at her and replied solemnly, “No, no, I was going to give you this chicken leg, but I’ve changed my mind. With this, I’m full. Don’t waste silver; I don’t want to go hustling on the streets again.”

Chang Yu, wrinkling her nose at his greasy appearance, said, “Ugh, keep it to yourself. You eat so heartily I feel full just watching. I’m heading up for a bath. If you need me, wait until I’m done. Oh, Chen San, buy me a skirt—I have no clean clothes, and these are filthy after days of wear.”

Chen San, chewing his chicken, replied nonchalantly, “You smell fine; it’s only been a few days. I’ve worn these clothes since leaving Chen Family Town, nearly ten days. No wonder they say young ladies are fussy.”

Chang Yu nearly choked on her fish upon hearing Chen San hadn’t changed his clothes in ten days. She’d been pampered from birth, always dressed in the finest, never wearing the same thing two days in a row. Ten days without a change was unthinkable. She pinched her nose, looking at him with disdain.

“Men are disgusting. I don’t care—I must change. You go buy for me.”

Chen San replied, greasy as ever, “I’m not going. Let your Cui’er buy it. It’s embarrassing for me to buy women’s clothes.”

Chang Yu grew anxious when Chen San refused. “Stupid Chen San! I even keep you company when you’re boring. Hmph! From now on, I won’t talk to you. Go chat with ghosts instead.”

She crossed her arms and turned her head in a huff.

Chen San finished his chicken and, seeing Chang Yu upset, said, “The thing is, your clothes must be expensive. We don’t have that much silver. Be good, no need to change, all right?”

Chang Yu shot him a glare, and just then, Yang Chengzi put down his chopsticks.

“How about this: your current attire draws too much attention. Those thugs were after your beauty. Let’s buy men’s clothes for you—less conspicuous and cheaper.”

Chen San agreed, “Yes, yes, buy men’s clothes. Get smaller sizes so you can wear them. Saves silver.”

Chang Yu gazed at Yang Chengzi dreamily. “Did you just say I’m beautiful?”

Chen San frowned, “He’s a Daoist; your beauty won’t sway him. Save your breath.”

Yang Chengzi, as cold as ever, replied, “Chen San’s right. My only concern is delivering you safe and sound to Master Chang. I’ll have the attendant prepare your bathwater.”

Chang Yu pouted again, clearly unhappy with his response, and vented her frustration on Chen San.

“Men’s clothes? Fine, you go buy them. Get something nice and buy two sets—I need to change. If they’re not pretty, you’ll regret it!” She waved her little fist at Chen San.

Yang Chengzi shook his head and went to find the attendant.

Chen San laughed, “You’re so fierce. Now your hopes are even slimmer. Hahaha!”

With that, he dashed out of the inn, leaving Chang Yu stomping in anger, wishing she could drag him back and tear him apart.

Outside, Chen San strolled leisurely. Though the sun had long set, the city showed no signs of sleep. The streets were ablaze with lanterns, vendors lined up one after another, selling everything imaginable. Chen San wandered, marveling at every novelty.

Eventually, he came to a clothing shop run by a shrewd woman. Chen San asked for two sets of men’s clothes, the cheapest available.

The proprietress, recognizing him as an outsider, brought out three sets of coarse clothes that had been unsold for nearly a year.

Chen San inspected them; aside from being a bit rough, they seemed suitable and about Chang Yu’s size. Most importantly, they were cheap—two sets cost only fifty coins, less than the price of Chang Yu’s rouge.

The proprietress threw in the last set for free, and Chen San grinned ear to ear, paid promptly, and left, pleased with his bargain. After a bit more wandering, he returned to the inn, satisfied.

Back at the inn, Chen San went upstairs to find Chang Yu, who was bathing. He took the clothes to his room and waited for Chang Yu to collect them later.