Red Pine Martial Academy—or rather, all martial academies across Great Liang—had a public Mission Hall or mission room.
However, no matter what kind of mission it was, it was rarely posted there right away; usually, it would be snapped up within a small circle first.
At its core, posting a mission was asking someone to handle an affair for you.
For the same fee, if the money could be earned by people close to you, why let outsiders benefit?
Missions that ultimately ended up posted in the Mission Hall were either earth-shattering crises or tasks that people close at hand found too difficult to accomplish.
Of course, missions that were unprofitable or offered meager rewards could also end up handled this way.
Wu Youren wanted to get his hands on Guizu-slaying missions, but seeing one in the Mission Hall was practically impossible.
In Liang nowadays, the Guizu were said to run rampant, but in the vicinity of Tianjing, there really were not many, and most were relatively weak.
Weak Guizu were not hard to kill. The crucial part was... they could drop gear!
How could an outsider ever get a turn to take on such missions?
Wu Youren was not entirely clear on the tricks of the trade, but he could guess the general situation.
If one really had to wait until Guizu-slaying missions were posted in the Mission Hall, the situation would probably be... far from optimistic!
Sure enough, despite Salinen and Subar both being freshmen, they actually knew about this.
Not many Guizu appeared near Tianjing, but they did show up, and on a few occasions, the impact had been quite significant.
Yet because Guizu could drop treasures, as soon as word got out, dedicated bounty hunters would rush over.
In terms of being well-informed, bounty hunters were the fastest to react; even the martial academies were a step behind.
Wu Youren was somewhat puzzled. "What about the ability masters?"
"Ability masters..." Salinen let out a contemptuous chuckle. "They only care about advancing themselves. Why would they be interested in taking risks?"
From the sound of it, Great Liang prized ability masters so much that it was reluctant to deploy them lightly.
To the point that some martial artists looked down on ability masters, considering them far too pampered.
Subar, however, disagreed. "Could you not spread rumors? The truly powerful ability masters are out there slaying Guizu!"
"Oh? Care to elaborate?" Wu Youren felt that since his true background had not been exposed to his roommates, they could still get along on equal footing.
"It's nothing much," Subar said, clearly reluctant to say more. "The Guizu are far stronger than you two imagine. It's just that the ones around here are weak."
Wu Youren thought about it, then asked another question: "Then in your opinion, which poses a greater threat to Great Liang: the Guizu, or hostile nations?"
"The Guizu, of course," Subar answered without a second thought. "If you lose to humans, you can still surrender. To the Guizu... impossible!"
"That might not be true," Salinen said, insisting on taking the opposite stance. "To resist aggression from without, one must first pacify within!"
Then he cast a suspicious glance at Wu Youren. "Why are you asking this?"
"Because... I want to slay Guizu," Wu Youren answered nonchalantly. "I just feel fighting among humans is completely pointless."
Many years later, Subar's son would comment on this exact moment:
"My father always regretted being shaken by his words, which led to everything that happened afterward... If only he had killed him right then and there."
In reality, Subar's immediate reaction was disbelief. "Do you really dare to get involved?"
"I'm a native of Jin, yet here I am in Liang," Wu Youren replied calmly. "I just want to do something meaningful with my life."
He really was no actor; he was merely forced by circumstances to dance—on the edge of a blade!
Half a month later, Salinen actually managed to find a connection, saying that when going to slay Guizu, they might consider bringing their roommate along.
However, participating in battle was out of the question; merely watching from the sidelines would be fine.
As for spoils or loot, he shouldn't even think about it; being brought along at all was already something to be grateful for.
This piece of news, naturally, did not come free. That evening, Wu Youren treated his two roommates to another lavish meal.
For three martial artists having a meal, spending two or three silver dollars was quite normal.
Still, the fact that the two Liang martial artists had never once treated their Jin roommate—did that also reflect a kind of discrimination?
In short, that night, Wu Youren choked Salinen by the throat again.
Fortunately, the two roommates were already vigilant enough and had anticipated his move.
This time, things blew up completely. Salinen even fumed furiously, "If you fucking don't want to treat us, you can just say so!"
Wu Youren sighed and said sheepishly, "When I was young, a servant tried to harm me in the night... I once killed someone in my sleep!"
Who didn't have some childhood trauma?
Yet this matter clearly could not be dropped just like that. Even if the three of them reached an understanding, the neighboring dorm wouldn't stand for it!
Killing in his sleep... who he killed might not just be in his own room; it could easily be someone next door!
In fact, Salinen and Subar were thoroughly spooked as well. "Better move him to another dorm."
The relationship among the three had never been that deep anyway—there was a bit of acquaintance, but hardly any real warmth.
After some deliberation, the academy decided to allocate Wu Youren a room of his own—not out of favoritism, but because no one dared to live with him!
This guy had struck three times without success, had gotten thoroughly beaten each time, and was quite contrite afterward, but there was no helping it... he couldn't change!
As for the new accommodations, it went without saying: they were far worse than the dormitories.
It was a small single-story shack not far from the martial training grounds, adjoining a dilapidated equipment shed, with another small copse of trees on the other side.
The building materials were crude—half brick and stone, half adobe—feeling even less sturdy than a shipping container.
What was especially bad luck was that it was not far from the training ground's latrine. Although the stench didn't reach the room, the thought alone was unpleasant.
On the night Wu Youren moved in, the burly man from the Life-and-Death Knot showed up.
With a sneer on his face, he asked, "Just how many secrets are you hiding to pull a stunt like this?"
Wu Youren explained with complete gravity, "I truly do have a habit of sleepwalking."
To those in the know, a lie repeated ten thousand times was still a lie, but he simply refused to budge.
The man already had his own conclusion; even if Wu Youren genuinely suffered from somnambulism, it wouldn't change the man's view. Better to just let each stick to their own story.
The burly man didn't argue with him—it was pointless. Instead, he dropped a threat: "Living alone, you'd best watch out for danger."
Wu Youren replied earnestly, "Staying away from ordinary martial artists also makes it easier to avoid suspicion. Isn't that a good thing?"
He was on guard against them trying to recruit or turn him, but deep down, wasn't the other side also worried he might stir up trouble in secret?
"Hmph, you think too highly of yourself," the burly man replied dismissively.
Still, that was mostly just a posture; whether he truly thought so was hard to say.
Then, his expression turned stern. "What's this about you wanting to slay Guizu?"
Before these people, there really were no secrets! Wu Youren wasn't surprised; those two roommates were never going to keep secrets for him.
"I'm tired of civil strife among humans and want to gain some experience slaying Guizu... Besides, I'm short on cash!"
"Just make sure you don't play any tricks." The man turned to leave. "If you're short on cash, go earn it yourself. It's not like the protection fee is that high."
Watching him depart, Wu Youren pondered deeply.
The fact that this shadow hung around him constantly showed an intent to exert long-term pressure, yet the man didn't seem overly concerned with whatever money Wu Youren might earn.
He didn't believe the other party was being benevolent; struggles between nations were never tender or kind, but ruthless and unscrupulous.
In other words, in their eyes, he was currently just small fry, unworthy of serious attention.
Once he carried enough weight, the pressure he would face would no longer be this light and simple.
Right now, then, was his prime window to keep a low profile and build up strength.
Still, having just moved, he shouldn't act rashly; it was better to lie low for a few days.
Over the next few days, he busied himself cleaning the shack and buying a few pieces of cheap furniture.
In his spare time, he gathered fallen branches and fenced off a small plot behind the shack—about fifty square meters, not even a tenth of a mu.
The branches were stuck into the ground quite sparsely. Just as he was clearing stones from the plot, a staff administrator from the academy came over and asked what he was doing.
He explained that he wanted to grow some vegetables—partly to spruce up the surroundings, and partly to supplement his diet.
He emphasized repeatedly that he wouldn't raise livestock and wouldn't disturb anyone, but the administrator still ordered him to stop.
Presumably, the administrator had rarely seen such an oddball wanting to farm inside a martial academy, so his attitude wasn't overly harsh.
He merely demanded that Wu Youren take down the branches himself; otherwise, once he sent men to tear it down, the consequences would be quite different.
Wu Youren felt in a bit of a bind. He hadn't applied to the academy in advance precisely because he wanted to create a fait accompli.
He hadn't expected that while the academy seemed relaxed on the surface, any unusual development would actually draw administrative intervention!
After thinking it through, he went and bought two jugs of thin wine, concocted them into strong liquor, tore off the labels, and went to find that administrator.
He had already ceded the strong liquor business to Hostage Manor and had no intention of meddling in it again, but making it for personal use... surely that was fine?
The academy's administrators didn't earn very high incomes, and ordinary martial artists rarely went out of their way to build ties with such low-level staff.
The administrator did accept the two jugs of liquor, and then remarked: "It's not that I want to make things difficult for you, but what you're doing is simply too bizarre for the academy."
Administrators had superiors too; if he turned a blind eye and someone reported it up the chain, he would be held accountable.
Two jugs of liquor in exchange for some honest talk wasn't a bad trade.
Yet two days later, the administrator actually came looking for him on his own initiative. "That liquor... do you have any more?"
It turned out he had drunk some, found it delicious, and shared it over drinks with his superior—after all, who living in this world didn't need to socialize?
The superior had also enjoyed it, so he had come specifically to inquire.
Wu Youren stated that this liquor was rather hard to come by, but he would procure two more jugs in a couple of days and bring them over.
He didn't mention the vegetable plot again. A distant magistrate couldn't match immediate authority; building a good rapport with this man would make things easier to negotiate on all fronts.
The administrator felt that the kid was quite tactful, not seizing the opportunity to attach strings.
After receiving two more jugs of liquor, he remarked that the vegetable plot... indeed could beautify the environment.
However, it would be best if two jugs of this liquor could be arranged each month so he could account for it to his superiors.
The administrator also emphasized one point: he wouldn't take them for free—he would pay!
The academy spanned two square kilometers; land was the last thing it lacked. Wu Youren occupying such a tiny plot was simply a matter of whether he chose to intervene.
The boy had already gifted four jugs of good liquor; if he still wanted to take two jugs free of charge every month, that would be pushing his luck and lacking any sense of propriety.
Even if the boy was just a youth and a Jin native, he was still a martial artist.
At an age full of hot blood, if pressed too hard... who didn't walk in the dark of night?
Chapter 17