Chapter 91 (Patreon)

“Next time you try to play hero, try to avoid damaging anything, will you?”

“I said I was sorry.”

Chen Haoran and the old woman wandered down various streets and alleys of Daqing. Chen Haoran had the woman’s carpet thrown over his shoulder like a sack. From within came the clicking and clacking of her bone wares. He thought it was the end of it when the old woman extorted him out of a gold tael for a sculpture he was positive wasn’t worth that much. The old woman still didn’t wasn’t satisfied and had him help pack up her goods and carry them home for her.

“Bah, will your apology cut it if what you stepped on started bleeding instead of breaking?”

He felt his eye twitch. “You know I can just drop your stuff and leave, right?”

The old woman scoffed. “Go ahead. Prove me right that you foreigners aren’t worth a damn.”

“I don’t actually care about upholding anyone’s image.” He really didn’t. It’s not like he was actually from this world, let alone any of the nations here. “How do you even know I’m not from here anyway? You haven’t looked at me once.” It took him a bit to notice, but it was true. She hadn’t lifted her gaze at all when he met her or when the thugs were bothering her. Even now, when he was walking her home, he still didn’t know what her face looked like.

The old woman sniffed. “I can smell the Peacock’s water on you, boy.”

Chen Haoran frowned and sensed her again. Still mortal. But was that true? Lan Fen could hide her cultivation level after all, or rather, the White Tyrant helped her hide it. Xie Jin could seemingly smell the Peachwine river on the Reservoir Town cultivators as well. With how connected his cultivation method was to the Machu river, it wouldn’t be strange if someone could recognize it on him the same way. “Really?” he asked, just to be sure.

“Of course not.” The old woman said. The disdain in her voice was clear. “Do you really think I can do something like that? It’s your accent, you fool. Do you think you sound like my home?”

Chen Haoran was glad the woman wasn’t looking at him. Otherwise, she would see him flush red. Right, why twist himself in knots of doubt when the obvious answer was there?

The sun began dipping beneath the horizon, and the last rays of purple sunset reflected off the time-polished stones of Daqing. Around them, people closed up shops and made their way home ahead of the curfew. They were heading away from the river and deep into the city. Father Time had lovingly worn smooth the bricks of the houses surrounding them and draped them with curtains of crawling moss. The canals thinned out into twisting gulleys that wrapped around the roads and homes like snakes. The water of the Skyspear they carried stole the darkening sky’s reflection and burbled black, purple, and gold.

“It’s a beautiful city no matter what the time is,” Chen Haoran said.

The old woman hummed. “At least you can appreciate art.” She ran a liver-spotted hand along a smooth wall as they walked. “Oldest city continuously inhabited city on the continent. Even when the Snake King poured the coffers of an empire into the city, its age still showed through no matter how new the material.”

The old woman led him to an unlit street. A chorus of crickets chirped in tune from one house to the next. Rising and falling like a conducted orchestra. It was far more pleasant music compared to the monstrous hunting screeches of the Spa Cavern crickets.

The old woman sighed. “If you’re going to steal the dragon, now is the time to do it.”

Chen Haoran was brought up short. “Excuse me?”

“I recommend not to try killing me here, however. I still have some louts I’m playing host for. Heaven forbid I let them try to use my kitchen.”

“Ma’am, I’m not sure what you’re saying.”

“You’re a cultivator, a decent one, I imagine. Why else would you let an old mortal coot take advantage of you like this? That piece of crap wasn’t worth this much.”

Oh. Well, he could imagine it looked quite bad from her point of view. Still, he couldn’t help but ask. “If you knew all that, why go out of your way to be so rude? Cultivators aren’t above killing for a slight from what I’ve seen.”

The old woman scoffed. “I’m old, boy. What do I have to fear that isn’t already coming for me?”

“Crazy lady.” Chen Haoran shook his head, laughing. “I’m going to have to disappoint you. I’m not here to rob you or kill you.”

“Then why?” He could hear the stern confusion in her tone.

“Asking for hundreds of gold taels would be taking advantage of me. Asking me to fight someone for you would be taking advantage of me. A single gold tael and helping you carry your things home are pretty insignificant for me compared to what I can actually do. Why not lend a hand then?” He cocked his head in thought. “Well, you were pretty rude. That’s enough reason not to help. Let’s just say I’m a nice guy.”

The old woman was silent all the way up till they stopped in front of a small house with a vivid red door. A trio of worms were patterned all along the door frame.

“You want me to carry this inside or just leave it here?” he asked.

“Come inside,” she finally said. “I’ll make you a bowl.”

“Oh no I’m fine-”

The old woman whipped out her hand and slapped his arm. “None of that,” she scolded. “No one leaves my home without eating anything. This granny will spit blood and die before that happens.” She still didn’t look at him.

Oho? Was she coming around to him, perhaps? Chen Haoran smirked. “If you insist. How about that dragon statue while we’re at it?”

“Business is closed,” came her blunt reply. She placed her hand on the brass door handle. “I swear. Young men these days are just the strangest sort.”

The door swung open and revealed a single-room. It reminded him of a smaller version of Sister Jia’s home. A roaring fire sent up smoke up through a hole in the ceiling. The light illuminated a table where dinner was already underway.

Chen Haoran stopped.

The two, unfortunately, familiar faces at the table froze.

Wang Xiao let his noodles slip from his mouth. Jiang Lei paused midway through a sip from his teacup.

Wang Xiao and Chen Haoran spoke at the same time. “Fuck.”

He dropped his bowl and pointed an accusing finger at Chen Haoran. “You!”

The old woman kicked him in the shin.

Wang Xiao bit back his curse and glared at the woman.

“Has no one ever taught you pointing is rude? And what kind of language is that? And where did you get this food? Are you trying to say my cooking isn't good enough? What-”

On and on her tirade went. Wang Xiao’s glare didn’t go away but he visibly shrunk under the verbal barrage. Having once also been on the receiving end of an elder’s disapproval, Chen Haoran almost felt sympathy for him.

Almost.

It was his senior brother who came to his rescue. “Our apologies, elder. We did not mean to insult your food. We simply didn’t wish to continue taking advantage of your cooking.”

The old woman coldly snorted, and she imperiously motioned to the table. “Clear away that garbage. I’ll have some real food ready in a few minutes.” She looked back at Chen Haoran for the first time. Cloudy white eyes locked gaze with his own. “Shut the door and come sit.”

She was blind? And she led him to her home without him noticing that? He shook the extraneous thoughts out of his head. There were more immediate issues. He looked at the smiling Jiang Lei and the angry Wang Xiao. “Actually, I have a sloth waiting for me at home, so I’m just gonna go now-.”

“In,” came her clipped command.

“We would be honored to have you join us, Master Chen,” Jiang Lei unhelpfully added.

He didn’t have much choice, it seemed. Joy.

Chen Haoran set down the old woman’s goods with a sigh and considered his options. Does he sit next to the Liquid Meridian Realm or the guy who hates him?

“Please feel free,” Jiang Lei said, patting the cushion beside him.

With another sigh, he sat next to the last person he expected to see again. Xie Jin lied to him. Zumulu wasn’t a big place at all.

“I cannot say I expected to meet again this soon.” Jiang Lei was relentlessly positive.

Neither did he.

“Likewise,” he weakly said. “How’s it hanging, guys?”

Wang Xiao slapped the table. “I demand a duel!”

Right. What did he expect?