How could this be!
Quite a few travelers were waiting for the ferry. The stench of an old man's pipe tobacco, the cosmetic powder from a woman, the tang of sweat, the reek of fish, the rotten wood of the ferry landing... all rushed straight into his nostrils.
The mixture was utterly overwhelming.
Li Yan nearly stumbled from the assault.
He understood: his divine sense of smell had suddenly surged once again.
Counting this time, it had exploded upward in strength three times in short order since that night's life-and-death struggle against the cold-altar rampaging soldier.
Aside from these ordinary smells, he could also catch many peculiar scents.
Several hundred paces from the ferry crossing, a frigid, sticky odor lingered. It seemed to have been left behind by some sinister, evil entity, stubbornly refusing to disperse despite the slapping of the river waves...
Out on the water, on a large barge belonging to the Canal Gang, people were burning incense at the prow, tying red cloth, scattering paper joss money, and pouring out livestock blood. A wave of blazing heat swirled around the bow...
Even more daunting was Xianyang City in the distance.
Like a colossal beast crouched upon the plains, it gave off an ancient, desolate aura, permeated with all manner of incense and temple offerings.
Every single one of them was dozens of times thicker than what came from the Earth God Temple in Fort Li.
*Is this what the world is truly like...?*
Li Yan was shaken to his core.
Ever since awakening his divine sense of smell last year, he had remained holed up in Fort Li, having never set foot in Lantian County, let alone Chang'an City.
Now that he had reached Xianyang City, the contrast was immediately striking.
No wonder Widow Wang and her cohort hid in a remote village like Fort Li. Had they gone to Chang'an, they would likely have been exposed in an instant, drawing their mortal enemies upon them.
Just then, Li Yan's vision went black.
Waves of dizziness surged over him, and that astonishing sense of smell vanished right along with it.
Li Yan clamped a hand against a nearby willow tree, taking a good while to catch his breath.
His face was grim, cursing inwardly.
Evidently, such a divine power did not come without a price.
Widow Wang hadn't mentioned it—perhaps because she never expected his divine sense of smell to surge violently time and again.
Even worse, his ability had already slipped out of control.
Losing control of anything was bound to bring massive trouble.
He had to resolve this as soon as possible!
"Ferry's here—!"
The boatman's call broke his train of thought.
Fortunately, the divine sense of smell had shut down by now. Though his head spun and cold sweat ran down his back, Li Yan still made his way toward the ferry.
The boat wasn't large, roughly seven or eight meters long, without any reed mat awning overhead.
After paying the fare, Li Yan found a random spot to sit down.
A cool breeze drifted over the water, and the chatter of the commoners around him filtered continuously into his ears:
"Mother Wang, you're not rushing to reap the wheat—what are you heading into the city for?"
"We hired wheat reapers from Longyou this year. I need to go into the city to burn a stick of incense, praying it doesn't rain over the next few days, then rush right back..."
"Your family has plenty of able-bodied men, hasn't it?"
"Don't even mention it. My second and third sons ran off to Jinmen, saying the factories there pay well. They won't even come back for New Year's. I figured, we don't have much land at home anyway; the eldest gets it, so the younger two need something to strive for..."
What they were talking about was something Li Yan knew from the village as well.
The Great Xuan Dynasty had stood for a century and was now at its zenith.
Yet beneath this golden age, undercurrents were already churning.
Large-scale land annexation had begun to surface, displaced refugees were growing in number across the realm, and a decade earlier, they had stirred up considerable unrest.
At the same time, however, the imperial court had lifted the maritime ban to foster trade, and many port cities had erected vast workshops that absorbed large numbers of refugees.
At court, rumors said things were far from peaceful either, with factions forming and attacking one another.
Naturally, Li Yan had no interest in any of that.
At present, he only wished to resolve his own predicament as quickly as possible.
After crossing the Wei River, Li Yan's head cleared noticeably, and his divine sense of smell returned, albeit very faint, roughly on par with how it had been before he dealt with Blind Old Third.
Unable to dwell on it, Li Yan pulled down the brim of his straw hat and entered the city.
After all, this was an ancient capital of the pre-Qin era, once described in ancient texts as having "detached palaces and separate lodges, pavilions and towering terraces stretching over three hundred li, blotting out the sky and the sun."
Though it had suffered repeated fires of war and undergone numerous reconstructions that shrank the city considerably, it remained prosperous enough. The moment he stepped inside, a wall of clamor washed over him.
Unlike the chessboard grid of Chang'an City with its one hundred and eight wards, Xianyang City's layout was far less orderly. Li Yan entered through the South Gate, which was close to the ferry crossing and led directly into an old commercial district crisscrossed with streets.
Shops lined the thoroughfares, shop banners and signs fluttered overhead, hawkers called out unceasingly, and mule carts from the docks wove among pedestrians, creating a scene both prosperous and chaotic.
Naturally, beggars were not lacking either.
Perhaps because Li Yan wore a saber at his waist, no one troubled him. But other unfamiliar merchants and travelers were mobbed by a swarm of child beggars the moment they entered the city.
Clad in tattered rags, some even missing limbs, they surrounded their targets with desperate pleas: "Kind master, have mercy, may you reap a thousand pieces of gold this year!" "Good madam, bestow your grace, may you hold children and grandchildren in your arms..."
Li Yan cast a glance their way and turned to walk off.
In the jianghu, the Beggars' Gang was divided into an Eastern Line and a Western Line.
The Eastern Line engaged in soft begging, mostly performing street arts to earn their keep. They had a wide variety of acts, such as "rattling clappers," "civil and martial tunes," "paying homage to divine tablets," and "roaming the five lakes."
These beggars mostly traveled north and south, drifting with the currents. The Western Line, on the other hand, consisted mostly of rooted beggars. They usually entrenched themselves in a particular city, led by a beggar chief who took a cut from each day's begging spoils.
Whenever beggars of the Eastern Line journeying through the jianghu arrived in a city, they had to pay respects to the Western Line's local beggar den to seek permission before they could perform, and they still had to pay a share.
If one failed to observe the rules, they would end up a cold corpse before nightfall.
Among the beggar chiefs of the Western Line, there were also many "fake beggars" whose status was passed down through generations. They controlled the city's beggar dens, wearing rags by day only to change into fine silks by night, carousing in entertainment quarters and pleasure houses.
Even more detestable, some engaged in kidnapping and mutilating children to beg, maintaining close ties with the city's human traffickers.
What they specialized in was hard begging. Miserable as those child beggars appeared, they were ruthless and malicious—ordinary folk could not afford to cross them.
Sure enough, when the child beggars saw the unfamiliar merchant refuse to give coin, their expressions turned instantly. Clattering their cracked bowls, they chanted curses to the rhythm of Lianhualao:
"Give no coin, and off I steer, spend what's left on a coffin here!"
"You won't give, I won't plead, let's see how much this grandson bleeds!"
Enraged, the merchant gave chase to strike the urchins, never realizing his money pouch had already been stolen from his waist...
Of course, there were plenty of Eastern Line beggars roaming the jianghu as well.
As Li Yan crossed the street, a blind old beggar was telling stories on the street corner.
With milky eyes and a weathered voice, his cadence carried an archaic resonance:
"Fame and fortune chase each dawn, wealth and glory swiftly gone.
The mortal realm rolls like the tide—how many attain immortality...
And grasp the Dao!"
...
"Excuse me, is Daoist Wang Daoxuan here?"
Outside a small shop, Li Yan inquired of the proprietor.
Near the Xianyang City God Temple, apart from vendors selling snacks and breakfast foods, the area was dominated by paper-effigy shops, incense and candle stores, coffin makers, and shroud suppliers. Establishments offering physiognomy and divination were numerous as well.
The place Li Yan was asking at, for instance, was an incense and candle shop. Its shelves held everything from ordinary earthen joss sticks to arm-thick altar sticks, standard red and white candles to magnificent dragon-and-phoenix tapers, as well as all sorts of paper money and silver ingots—virtually anything one could want.
Upon arriving here, Li Yan found the scent of incense from the temple so overpowering that it left him dizzy and headache-ridden. Consequently, he had avoided going too close, looking directly for the address Sha Lifei had given him instead.
According to Sha Lifei, Wang Daoxuan ran a shop here as well, taking on all kinds of work: fortune-telling by glyphs, feng shui and site selection, weddings and funerals, subduing demons and catching monsters.
Yet the storefront at the address had already changed owners.
Left with no alternative, Li Yan could only ask around.
"Wang Daoxuan?"
The proprietor of the incense and candle shop, a squint-eyed fat man, looked puzzled at first. Then, as if something clicked, understanding dawned on him. "Ah, customer, you must mean Old Droop Wang!"
With that, a smirk crept into his eyes. "He was up to his ears in debt and already sold the shop to me. Nowadays he runs his business from home."
Old... Droop Wang?!
Li Yan's expression stiffened, a surge of irritation rising within him.
Sha Lifei was truly unreliable.
Although Sha Lifei had mentioned beforehand that Wang Daoxuan took on any job and was most likely a charlatan, at least he was supposed to be a man of Xuanmen from whom Li Yan could glean some information.
Yet judging by what this proprietor said, the man was probably even more pathetic than imagined.
Drowning in debt, unable even to keep his own shop...
The name 'Wang Daoxuan' was probably just like 'Sha Lifei'—a self-aggrandizing stage name trumpeted to the outside world!
Li Yan was already on edge from his out-of-control divine power, and this only stoked his temper further.
Seeing his reaction, the proprietor made his own calculation. Stepping forward with a nod and a smile, he offered, "Customer, whether you're seeking divination, glyph analysis, or arranging a wedding or funeral, feel free to speak up. I know every shop along this street, and I can get you a better price..."
"Thank you, but perhaps another time."
The offer sounded pleasant enough, but Li Yan wasn't about to believe him.
He had seen plenty of such people. If they undermined their own peers in the trade, wouldn't they be even more ruthless toward customers?
Besides, one sniff of the wares in this incense shop was enough to tell him they were utterly mundane goods. Even the consecrated idol in the back lacked the essence of true incense smoke. The man was a complete layman.
Sure enough, seeing that Li Yan wasn't interested, the proprietor's demeanor turned frosty at once.
A thought crossed Li Yan's mind. Letting a flicker of anger show on his face, he cupped his fists and said, "I have an account to settle with that Old Droop Wang. Pray tell me where to find him."
The proprietor glanced out of the corner of his eye, noticing the saber strapped to Li Yan's waist. A spark of schadenfreude glinted in his gaze, and he pointed down the street. "Easy enough. See that alley over there, customer? Head in about three hundred paces, and on your right you'll find Wendao Hall!"
...
The place the shopkeeper pointed out was an old residential alleyway.
As Li Yan walked inside, ancient compounds filled his view. Though each was an independent courtyard, they were secluded and cramped, clearly the residences of common folk.
Still, quite a few courtyard walls were built from salvaged Qin bricks of ancient Xianyang, and paired with the mottled bluestone paving underfoot, they exuded a distinct aura of antiquity.
Heading in about three hundred paces, he soon found the place.
Above the gate of an old compound hung a plaque.
It was carved from ordinary jujube wood and coated with only a simple varnish, inferior even to those of roadside taverns. Yet the three characters "Wendao Hall" were rendered with vigorous, ancient strokes, displaying remarkable skill.
Li Yan's irritation subsided somewhat, for reasons he couldn't name.
Then, he twitched his nose.
From within the small courtyard came quite a few peculiar scents...
Chapter 20