In the farmhouse courtyard, fruits and vegetables grew in abundance. Beside the earthen stone wall stood a well. A watermelon that had been chilling in the well water overnight and through the morning was hauled up dripping wet and sliced open on the round table in the middle of the main hall.
At the very least, the Little Prince's bladecraft when slicing melon was nothing short of miraculous.
"Aren't you going to sit down and have a slice with us?" Wen Jifei asked, seeing him turn around.
"No," Zhu Jiaming said as he walked toward the small kitchen to the side. "It's getting close to noon. I'll whip up lunch for everyone first."
"That'd be great. I've long heard that the Little Prince's culinary skills are divine. These past few days, eating the food Qingzi cooked, we almost forgot what color, aroma, and flavor even were. Today's a nice upgrade." Wen Jifei watched Zhu Jiaming walk away, then turned back and looked at Shang Nianhua. "Sister-in-law, you first. Have a slice before you keep talking."
None of the others had touched a slice yet.
Shang Nianhua wasn't used to seeing them pretend to be so well-behaved. Frowning with a chuckle, she picked up a slice and took a bite, then gestured for them to eat too—otherwise, with everyone staring at her, it was far too awkward.
They sat in a circle around the table, eating melon.
"With the Qu clan stepping forward this time, everyone who gets word will probably attend. Truth be told, there aren't many clans I've actually met face-to-face, but in reality, the vast majority are the same: cultivating source energy in isolation and clinging to outdated notions and rules of hierarchy—in fact, they're often even harsher. They keep servants and retainers of every sort, and practically all of them have a war slave system."
When Shang Nianhua mentioned war slaves, Han Qingyu and the others immediately thought of Wu Xu.
They had seen Wu Xu's plight in Nepal with their own eyes, and they now knew something of how he grew up—death had essentially kept him company his entire life.
"Then those children raised to be war slaves, they..." Rusty Sister rested her iron arms on the table and tentatively asked.
Shang Nianhua's eyes sank slightly.
"The vast majority are stolen. At least seventy to eighty percent of the war slaves and servants are children abducted from the outside world. Nearly every clan has people specifically assigned to handle this... and our Shang clan is no exception.
"That's probably one of the major reasons I was able to make up my mind to stand on your side. And not because of that Captain Lao of yours."
Hearing this, He Tangtang wiped his mouth and quickly glanced over at Wu Xu.
Rusty Sister did the same.
Was Wu Xu like that too? Could it be possible that his parents were still alive? they wondered.
"No," Wu Xu said flatly of his own accord. "I remember living with other orphans before they took me away."
A brief silence followed.
"...Right. What's past is past." Han Qingyu was somewhat at a loss. He wasn't good at comforting people or managing the mood. Seeing an uneaten peanut left beside his hand, he slid it across the table over to Wu Xu.
Wu Xu reached out, picked it up, cracked the shell open, and tossed the peanut into his mouth.
On the other side, Wen Jifei turned to Shang Nianhua.
"By the way, Sister-in-law, we won't go with your Shang clan this time. Having too mixed a crowd isn't good, and your strength... if something really happens then, you look out for yourself."
"Ah, alright," Shang Nianhua said. "Then are you going with Zhu..."
Just at that moment, Zhu Jiaming brought out a dish of stir-fried bitter melon. On the white porcelain plate, the bitter melon was sliced into crescent wedges, every piece an emerald green.
Having overheard them, he set it down on the table, stepped back, and only then said, "If I were to bring you along like that, it would probably be hard to explain as well. Besides, I'm currently acting as a steward for the Qu clan. Bringing you with me would definitely draw attention."
"Right, and if we can't win the fight and end up dead, it'd also make it hard for the Little Prince to stay undercover... and bide his time to avenge us." Wen Jifei quipped in a teasing tone, giving Zhu Jiaming a predatory, bloodthirsty look.
"Heheh." Zhu Jiaming didn't argue. He just tilted his head back and gave a couple of sheepish chuckles, taking it as a tacit admission.
Thus, even when being a scoundrel, this guy managed to make it feel completely open and candid.
As Wen Jifei put it: using seemingly harmless petty shabbiness on the surface to disguise a much darker scheme underneath—that was roughly the gist of it.
"Then can you help us find a suitable identity? If not, we'll just lie in wait near the location and barge in when the time comes," Han Qingyu said.
"That won't work. By then, there'll be hundreds of war slaves present, if not thousands. It'll always be easier to find an opportunity from the inside." Shang Nianhua pondered and said, "Actually, according to the information those clans received, you're all dead people. So if you have a proper identity, getting inside won't actually be hard."
What identity should it be? She frowned, racking her brains.
"There's a ready-made one right at hand," Zhu Jiaming chimed in from the side, looking at Han Qingyu and Wu Xu. "Major Qing, Lieutenant Wu, do you still remember Pang Jinghe?"
Wu Xu stared at him blankly.
"The one from last time at the He clan estate! He drove past, ran into us, and brought you in. After the fighting started, you even claimed in front of all the clans that he was one of your own."
Zhu Jiaming's tone and expression seemed to say: Aren't you guys being a bit too heartless to forget him?
Han Qingyu remembered. Taken aback, he asked, "He's not dead?!" Given the circumstances back then, Han Qingyu had assumed Pang Jinghe would definitely have been hacked to death by the clan members inside the house.
"Not dead! In fact, with Azure's subsequent mopping-up operation, he was probably the only person present who slipped away. I happened to run across him by chance and observed him for a bit."
According to Zhu Jiaming, Pang Jinghe had indeed escaped, but his situation afterward was rather pathetic. "After that incident, he didn't dare go to either side, so he's just been drifting out in the world."
A guy from the source energy world drifting out in the mundane world... Wen Jifei grew interested and asked, "So what is he doing now?"
Zhu Jiaming: "Working odd jobs."
Well, that's a relief. I was worried he might go rob banks or become an underground fighting champion! Han Qingyu tilted his head and asked, "Can you still find him?"
Zhu Jiaming: "Yeah."
…………
That night, Zhu Jiaming headed back first.
Han Qingyu's squad set off early the next morning and traveled until nightfall.
Rusty Sister and Yang Qingbai stayed behind in the mountains to watch the plane, while Han Qingyu, Wu Xu, Wen Jifei, and He Tangtang changed into civilian clothes and stood together on a bustling street outside an entertainment and performance center.
[Southern Scala]
"Here it comes! Dear audience and friends, coming right up is the long-awaited sexy Latin performance brought to you by Miss Nini! Once again, a reminder: the friend who presents the most flower baskets tonight will get to dance with Miss Nini!"
The host's voice boomed passionately, audible even from outside the entrance.
"So... Pang Jinghe isn't performing Latin dance here, is he?" He Tangtang tilted his chin toward the giant poster hanging above the entrance, on which Miss Nini wore a provocative dance outfit, flaunting alluring thighs.
There was no male dance partner on the poster.
"Probably not," Han Qingyu said, sounding none too sure.
The four of them ducked their heads and walked inside.
"Right this way, gentlemen. Please have a seat here." A waiter led them to an empty table and asked once they sat down, "What would you gentlemen like to order?"
It would have been great if Young Master Shiheng were here for an occasion like this. Wen Jifei had never been to an entertainment venue either. Looking up, he said, "Beer, peanuts, melon seeds, and fruit."
"Right away." The waiter took the order and pointed toward the stage. "And may I ask, would you gentlemen like to send Miss Nini a flower basket?"
To tell the truth, this Miss Nini was explosively sexy. Wen Jifei thought to himself that they were loaded anyway—Young Master Shiheng had left behind several million—so why not splurge a bit?
"No," Han Qingyu said. Completely numb to anything related to "sexy," he pointed toward the stage and asked, "Can we send one to a guy?"
He said it utterly deadpan, but the waiter's look instantly shifted, as did the stares from two middle-aged women at an adjacent table. Such a good-looking young lad—how could he be into men?
"Y-Yes, you can. Miss Nini's dance partner..." What was his name again? The waiter racked his brains. After all, not a single soul had sent him a flower basket over the past few days.
"No, I mean the one who was drawing the curtains and mopping the floor just now. What's his name? Send a flower basket to him for me."
His taste was getting progressively more terrifying.
"Huh?! Sir, you mean... Old Crab?!" The waiter looked utterly dumbfounded.
"Oh, his name is Old Pang... Crab?"
Han Qingyu imagined a few possibilities: for instance, when Pang Jinghe first arrived, he might have said, "You can call me Old Pang... thank you," or "You can call me Old Pang..." where he didn't even dare use his real surname, so he clumsily tacked on a "Crab" sound to cover it up.
It seemed this guy was truly terrified out of his wits. After all, to Azure, he was a remnant insurgent; if he went back, he feared the surviving clans already knew and would execute him as a traitor. In short, he didn't dare expose himself in the slightest...
"That's him. Please send a flower basket up for him."
Having said that, Han Qingyu turned back, grabbed a handful of peanuts, and began cracking them open.
The waiter was quick on the uptake, leaning down to ask Wen Jifei in a low voice, "Excuse me, sir, which kind of flower basket would you like to send?"
"Is there a difference?" Wen Jifei asked, looking up.
"Yes. We have standard flower baskets, then premium, then..."
"Send the best one."
Looking around forty years old, scruffy and unkempt, Pang Jinghe squatted at the backstage entrance clutching a rag, his eyes staring blankly at the stage.
On stage, Miss Nini was dancing fiercely and provocatively—a performance that had already far transcended ordinary Latin dance... Amid the blaring music and the host's endless chorus of congratulations and thanks, gulp, Pang Jinghe swallowed a mouthful of spit.
This chick is seriously gorgeous. What if I mask my face tonight and carry her off?!
But if I do that, what if I expose my martial strength? And what if I lose my job...
Pang Jinghe couldn't bear to part with this job.
Young Master Pang had grown up in a secluded clan and possessed virtually zero survival skills in the outside world. When he fled back then, he had brought nothing except source energy blocks and his weapon harness. At first he scavenged for scrap, then hauled bricks on construction sites... This current job was already the easiest and most interesting gig he could possibly imagine.
"It's all that bastard Han Qingyu's fault!"
"Whoaaa!" The host announcing flower baskets from the edge of the stage suddenly went wild. "Did you all see that?! The Supreme Royal Seine Riverbank Flower Basket! Let's put our hands together to thank Mr. Han and his friends at Table 46, for presenting it to Ni—"
Miss Nini had already stopped dancing. Flashing a sultry smile and flaunting an even more sultry figure, she bowed deeply to the audience.
However, the host choked.
"Fucking loaded!" Pang Jinghe cursed. "More money than brains—no wonder his surname is Han!"
"...For presenting this Supreme Royal Seine Riverbank Flower Basket to... Old Crab."
Having droned out the announcement numbly, ignoring Miss Nini who stood utterly baffled on stage and the roar of laughter throughout the entire hall, the host quickly turned his head to look around.
"Old Crab, get over here, quick!"
Regardless, the one with the money was king. Even if the flower basket was for Old Crab, the host anxiously waved him over.
Pang Jinghe tilted his head up, still frozen stiff. What's going on?! Something feels wrong.
"Hurry up!" The host gave him a fierce glare.
Pang Jinghe poked his head out cautiously and took a look.
He saw someone down below, smiling and waving at him.
"...Fuck! You're still not letting me off?!"
Chapter 381