Mengmeng said earnestly, "Six years ago, a famine struck right on top of a snowstorm, yet the alliance still demanded we send troops. While they fought on the front lines, we women and children in the rear were practically starving to death!
"I heard the adults say that even if the alliance had taken Mount Lutai back then, the Yao Kingdom wouldn't have collapsed overnight. To crush the Yao Kingdom would have dragged on for years at least. How could it be as simple as that ignorant fool of a woman made it out to be? The Yao Kingdom is so strong, and behind them they have..." Mengmeng continued, "If the war had dragged on for years, what would we have eaten or drunk? When the chieftain withdrew from the alliance, he immediately secured grain and supplies from the Yao Kingdom. How many of our people did that save?"
She looked at A'xun and said firmly, "No matter what anyone says, I believe the chieftain did nothing wrong!"
A'xun took her hand. "Thank you."
"Next time they say that kind of thing, curse right back at them!" The girl winked. "They don't know jack shit."
A'xun smiled faintly. If only things were that simple.
Although defecting back then had indeed secured food and supplies, the Ying people's circumstances had not improved over the years. They were forced to do all sorts of dirty work for the Yao Kingdom and had fought seven or eight battles, big and small. Many of the clan's able-bodied youth had been killed or wounded, and the bereavement payouts alone had become a crushing burden.
On top of that, this had only deepened the neighboring powers' hostility toward the Ying people, making it increasingly difficult for them to trade with anyone nearby.
A'xun felt that this was terribly amiss, and it filled him with unease. The grasslands were so vast, yet the road open to the Ying people grew narrower by the day.
Why was it that the Luodian Kingdom, who had turned traitor just the same, were doing quite well, while they could barely take a step forward?
Just then, his father returned from the market and waved him over, cutting his thoughts short. "A'xun, come here."
A'xun nodded goodbye to his childhood friend and followed his father into the tent.
From behind, his father had sprouted a few more white hairs. His shoulders leaned slightly forward, and his back was no longer as straight as it used to be.
Wounds had forced an old age upon a hero long before his twilight years.
The chieftain entered a small tent, and the Ying people inside immediately stepped out to give them privacy.
"Sit."
"Do you know why I came to this market?"
A'xun shook his head.
Usually, they traded at dedicated horse markets and rarely attended large general markets like this one.
Nor did the Ying clan care for the strange looks from outsiders.
"I asked someone to fetch something for me so I could confirm a vital piece of intelligence." Travelers gathered at markets from all directions, bringing news from every corner. Some herders and wanderers moved from place to place only by following these fairs. His father said slowly, "Intelligence regarding the Luosheng Armor."
"The Luosheng Armor?" A'xun was slightly surprised. "That's only a legend!"
Stories about the Shanjin Empire and the Luosheng Armor were among the most widespread tales across the western Shanjin Plain.
A story was just a story. Hardly anyone took it seriously, and children stopped believing once they grew up.
"There is no smoke without fire," his father said in a deep voice. "I have investigated in secret for years, and I finally obtained this lead!"
Seeing the look on his father's face, A'xun knew this boded ill. "Where is it now?"
"Mount Jing."
"The last imperial retreat of the Shanjin Empire?" A'xun was skeptical. "Father, your information..."
"It is reliable." As soon as his father grew agitated, he began to cough.
Three years ago, his lung had been pierced in battle, and ever since, his breath had lacked strength when speaking.
A'xun immediately poured him some water.
Catching his breath with difficulty, his father did not drink, but instead drew a small cloth pouch from his robe and opened it.
Inside lay three plants. They resembled both fungus and moss, mottled in gray and white. Their shape was peculiar—diamond-shaped with serrated edges, packed so tightly together that there were almost no gaps between them.
"Snakeskin? No, wait."
At first glance, A'xun had not thought it was a plant at all, but rather the shed skin of some python.
"This is dragon armor fungus. In ancient times, it grew only within dragon territory. Very few people alive today have seen or recognized it; I only learned of it from an obscure ancient text," his father murmured. "Guess where my informant found it?"
"Mount Jing?"
"Yes, Mount Jing!" The chieftain smiled. "When I was your age, I saved a celestial master. But his injuries were too severe, and he died a few days later. Among his belongings, besides celestial arts, was a booklet devoted to peculiar tales and wonders he had witnessed firsthand. One secret recorded within noted that dragon armor fungus is very likely to grow around the Luosheng Armor.
"Now that dragon armor fungus has appeared on Mount Jing, it means the Luosheng Armor has returned there." He said solemnly, "I set out tomorrow. I leave the clan's affairs in your hands."
A'xun hesitated. "Do you truly believe that armor can make its wearer invincible, Father? If so, how did the last monarch of the Shanjin Empire fall?"
"Others who wore the Luosheng Armor later achieved great deeds as well. If they could do it, why can't we?" The chieftain laughed. "Don't forget, we are descendants of the Shanjin imperial family too! The Luosheng Armor rightfully belongs to me, so of course I am worthy to wear it."
It was just that they had changed their surname along the way.
After the collapse of the Shanjin Empire, descendants of the imperial Pang clan changed their surnames one after another to evade disaster.
A'xun scratched his head.
These were all legends, impossible to verify. Who wouldn't want to burnish their ancestors' reputations? After all, if one's forebears were famous, one became the descendant of an illustrious house, which gave plenty of face when boasting to others.
Naturally, he was not foolish enough to dispute it. He merely said, "Yet the sinister power in that armor is formidable..."
His father was full of confidence. "It all depends on the user. As long as my will remains resolute, I can master the armor.
"Outsiders show us no mercy, your second uncle covets my position, and my health has deteriorated these past few years. And the Yao Kingdom..." At this point, his father let out a soft sigh. "The Yao Kingdom heaps more and more tasks on us—if not shaking down debts, then killing people. They treat us like nothing more than hired thugs."
A'xun fell silent as well.
Other clans and tribes hated the Ying people, viewing them as traitors, and clashes had been frequent over recent years. On two occasions, neighboring peoples had even united to launch punitive campaigns against the Ying. To protect themselves, the Ying people had no choice but to throw their lot in with the Yao Kingdom, however unwillingly.
Yet seeking shelter under the wings of the strong came at a price.
The Yao Kingdom constantly assigned tasks to the Ying people, which A'xun and his father could not refuse. But carrying out those orders only deepened their enmity with neighboring powers.
They were pushed deeper into passivity, offending more and more people.
The vicious cycle formed a knot they could not untie.
The clansmen voiced great dissatisfaction over this, and the chieftain's younger brother—A'xun's second uncle—had publicly expressed his discontent with the chieftain on more than one occasion.
Without the intervention of great power, this vicious cycle could never be broken.
From that perspective, his father's pursuit of the Luosheng Armor and the hopes he pinned on it made sense.
"If I find the Luosheng Armor, your second uncle at least won't dare make a reckless move, and when I go into battle, I can return to my prime!" The chieftain clapped his son on the shoulder. "Given our clan's present plight, I have no choice but to be resolute!"
"You are the chieftain, Father; heavy responsibilities rest on your shoulders," A'xun said at once. "Let me go retrieve it in your stead!"
His father snorted and said bluntly, "Your cultivation progresses quickly, but you are far too soft! You hesitate when taking a life, and you dilly-dally over everything you do. With a temperament like yours, you cannot touch the Luosheng Armor!"
He let out a long sigh. "If only A'lei were still here. Fierce, brave, and resolute, he would have been the best choice to claim the armor."
A'xun's face flushed hot and cold under the scolding, and he lowered his head once more.
A'lei was his older brother, once the pride of the Ying people and the heir upon whom his father had pinned high hopes. Who could have foreseen that he would perish in inter-tribal strife three years ago?
His father had been stricken with grief, aging ten years overnight.
A'xun knew that in his father's eyes, A'lei was the warrior most likely to grow into a hero, the truest successor.
Yet now, A'xun was the only son he had left.
"Look at you. You are clearly angry, yet you don't even dare talk back. How does that resemble a Ying warrior?" Disappointment showed on his father's face. "You look more like one of those Yao people."
"Father!" A'xun's face turned completely red—red with anger.
Comparing his courage to that of the Yao people was the ultimate insult!
"In any case, while I'm away for the next few days, look after the clan well and don't let your second uncle find an opening," his father said with a smile. "Aren't you fond of Mengmeng? Her father will only allow her to marry the son of a chieftain. Guard the home well, and when I return in a few days, I'll go propose the match for you!"
Hearing this, A'xun's face turned red once more.
Just then, rain began to fall outside again, pattering heavily against the tent.
A streak of lightning flashed across the sky, followed by a violent crack of thunder.
The snail-toad leapt up from beneath the earth. Ahead lay a small town, where a few specks of light diffused into a soft halo through the rain.
Dong Rui yawned. "Where did you say our destination was again?"
"Baitou Ridge. Supposedly right next to the Yao Kingdom." Having just surfaced from underground, He Lingchuan's sense of direction was not at its best either. "Where are we?"
"Come on, let's go ask!" Dong Rui pointed toward the small town. "We've been traveling for three days straight; one night won't hurt. Besides, I'm dying for a bowl of hot noodle soup."
His reasoning was sound, so the two climbed down, put away the snail-toad, held up paper umbrellas, and walked into town.
The small town had about two or three hundred households and only a single small tavern. Its storefront was dilapidated, and the cloth shop-banner was plastered flat by the rain.
When He Lingchuan and Dong Rui walked inside, the proprietor was dozing with his hands tucked into his sleeves. The shop had room for five tables, but there was only a single customer.
Business was slow. But in this downpour, who would wander outside without good reason?
Dong Rui rubbed his hands together and strode forward, slapping the table to startle the shopkeeper awake. "Two bowls of hot noodle soup first! What else good to eat do you have?"
The proprietor rubbed his bleary eyes. "A mountain hunter bagged a large deer yesterday..."
"Oh?" Venison was highly nourishing. Dong Rui was delighted, hardly expecting game meat in such a rundown joint. "Slice up two plates of venison for me—make sure it has tendon!"
"Sir, I wasn't finished," the shopkeeper mumbled. "The venison is all sold out. Even the head meat is gone. All that's left is a bit of blood rice cake made from deer blood. Care for some?"
Dong Rui's shoulders slumped. "Fine, bring whatever you've got. And give us a pot of wine."
The hot noodle soup arrived first: two large bowls. At first glance it looked ordinary, but the moment it hit the mouth, it proved spicy and sour.
There were not many toppings—the strands of scrambled egg were almost invisible, though the carrots were shredded as fine as hair, showing off the cook's impressive knife work. But the sour broth was well seasoned, the multigrain noodles had good chew, and a touch of mint was added for flavor.
Dong Rui took a mouthful of noodles followed by a sip of soup. After slurping a few times, he let out a contented sigh. He was finally comfortable.
Chapter 1146