Volume 1, Chapter 30: A Hero Saves the Elder

How long had Xiahou been in Anyi? He often felt like a puppet, controlled by invisible strings manipulated by others, performing trivial and tedious tasks. The idea that duels between guests could determine the honor of a major Wu clan in Anyi seemed as absurd as a tooth wolf challenging a tyrannosaurus in Yunmengze.

However, the greater the cost, the greater the reward, right?

Defeating a few warriors of similar strength had somehow elevated him in the eyes of the Xingtian brothers. The bizarreness of the world could hardly be surpassed.

Yet, the treatment he received as a favored individual was something Xiahou found difficult to get used to. The glitter of nightlife, fine wines, and women—luxuries that many pursued—held no real appeal for him. Despite having the physique of a barbarian, his heart remained out of sync with this world's values.

"Ah, Bai, this feels so comfortable."

Xiahou's massive frame was curled up in the corner of a tall tavern on the street. The clean stone slabs were warmed by the sun, and a lively earth energy naturally seeped into his body, making him feel as though he were in a sauna. The bright sunlight generously bathed the street, rooftops, and everyone around, giving everything a golden glow, creating a spacious, bright, and fresh atmosphere.

This was undoubtedly the widest street in the center of Anyi, directly leading to the palace's main gate. The expansive, impeccably clean avenue was clearly divided into several lanes.

In the middle, on two intricately carved stone paths adorned with floral and bestial designs, moved figures cloaked in black robes, their faces hidden. These were the high-ranking Wu from the Wu Hall, representing the highest echelon of the Xia dynasty. It was Xiahou's first time seeing such esteemed representatives of the realm. These Wu seemed to wander aimlessly, yet no matter where they went, they always occupied the central path, symbolizing their lofty status.

On the slightly outer lanes, nobles, officials, and clan members of the Xia dynasty rode various mounts and vehicles. Their attire was neat and dignified, and their expressions exuded superiority. Discreetly but visibly, they bore small jade or gold tokens, engraved with simple, emblematic designs—likely representing their family or official positions.

The interactions among these people were harmonious. Xiahou saw two carriages coming from opposite directions stop in the middle of the avenue. Two elderly men with white hair leaned out of their windows, engaging in a joyful conversation and exchanging bows before continuing on their way. Riders and carriage drivers frequently paused to salute the robed Wu in the center lane, clearly recognizing these figures as respected individuals from the Wu Hall.

Xiahou couldn't understand how people could identify specific Wu among those walking down the street when they all wore identical black robes, devoid of any distinctive markings, with their heads hidden under hoods.

Further out from the center, the lanes were reserved for those adorned in luxurious attire. These individuals emanated the power of the Wu, representing a crucial segment of the Xia Dynasty's strength—the noble commoners. Often, their display of authority surpassed even that of the noble officials. While many high-ranking officials traveled with just a couple of attendants, dressed in plain, even monotonous, robes, some of these noble commoners paraded down the street with hundreds of guards in tow. Their garments were lavishly adorned with gold and jade. Yet, upon encountering anyone in the central lanes, these noble commoners would immediately lower their previously high-held heads, groveling with fervent salutations. Even after these esteemed individuals had passed, the wealthy noble commoners continued bowing profusely.

Xiahou gave a hearty slap to Bai, who lay beside him, basking in the sunlight with squinted eyes. "Bai, look, the rules here are just like those in the wilderness. The strongest beasts roam the deepest parts of the forest, while the weaker ones have to scrape by on the outskirts."

Bai opened his eyes, shaking his head drowsily and drooling as he scanned the passing pedestrians, his gaze lingering hungrily on their plump thighs and buttocks, clearly seeing them as potential snacks.

Seeing Bai in such a state, Xiahou shook his head and sighed. "No wonder they don't allow large dogs in residential areas."

With a pat on Bai's head, Xiahou continued observing the street scene.

Compared to the high-ranking Wu, nobles, and noble commoners, the ordinary people without Wu power—the so-called commoners of the Xia Dynasty—formed the bulk of the city's population. They bustled about, overseeing various caravans and trading groups passing through the city, conducting business in guilds, and retrieving stored goods in a flurry of activity. The streets were designed with dedicated commercial lanes, separated by trees and flanked by main roads, to facilitate the swift movement of trade caravans.

Aside from the caravans, the pedestrians moved with purpose, engaged in their livelihoods. Their clothing wasn't luxurious, but it was neat and clean. The nobles and noble commoners did not excessively discriminate against or oppress them, maintaining a state of peaceful coexistence.

Meanwhile, the slaves, belonging to nobles, noble commoners, or even commoners, bore branded faces and cautiously walked along narrow, gravel-covered paths. They kept their heads low, carrying various items or miscellaneous goods, trailing several paces behind their masters.

"What a pitiful bunch," Xiahou muttered, resting his chin on his hands as he watched a group of slaves, including a young girl whose pretty face was marred by a dark brand. She clutched a few boxes tightly, eyes fixed on the richly dressed men ahead, maintaining a careful distance. "Slavery is an abomination, but I'm no savior. I don't have the power to rescue them," Xiahou thought with a resigned clarity.

"Hey, Bai, let's just look out for ourselves. You eat meat, I'll drink wine, and we'll find a way back home. Who knows, you might even end up in a research lab at the Chinese Academy of Sciences, though as a subject of study."

With a swift swipe, Bai playfully clawed at Xiahou's face, their contact sparking tiny flames due to Xiahou's tough skin.

Bai's control was precise—enough not to injure Xiahou but still causing a stinging sensation in his nose.

Xiahou, fully aware that Bai could understand human speech and discern subtle hints of ill intent, could only rub his nose and chuckle awkwardly. He stretched out his long legs on the ground, paying no mind to the curious stares of passersby. Sitting comfortably, he hummed contentedly, "What beautiful sunshine, pure and unpolluted. Bai, An Yi is a wonderful city, don't you think?"

Bai nodded vigorously, a guttural hum of agreement emanating from his throat. His small eyes squinted, and a sly smile crept across his face. Indeed, it was a great city, filled with numerous domesticated animals in every household. Bai's natural predatory instincts could keenly sense the presence of these plump animals. The density of livestock in An Yi far surpassed that of the dense forests near Xiahou's village. It was a promising place, though the challenge lay in figuring out how to feast on these blood meals.

Bai, eyes half-closed, dreamily fantasized about rampaging through An Yi, devouring all the delectable livestock. His mouth watered at the thought, a long string of saliva dangling to the ground, glistening in the sunlight.

Xiahou chuckled, craning his neck to keep a watchful eye on the pedestrians. The streets were full of beautiful women. If only he had a cup of coffee, it would be perfect. He reminisced about similar leisurely days before meeting his beloved Xiaohua. In the vibrant autumn sunlight of Vienna's city center, the harmonious sound of an organ playing, sipping coffee with Qinglong and Baihu on a bench under a large oak tree, the three young men secretly rating the women's figures.

"Ah, those passionate days of youth! Damn, how I miss them! How did I end up here? What exactly is that Jiuzhou Ding?"

Xiahou gazed up at the sun, which seemed to hang directly overhead, large yet gentle in its radiance. Since the day in the palace when the Jiuzhou Ding had inexplicably infused him with a strange power, perfecting his golden core, the sun appeared to him as a translucent red sphere, no longer blinding.

Stretching his arms wide, Xiahou let out a deep yawn and muttered, "If possible, sneaking into the palace to take a closer look at the Jiuzhou Ding might be worth it. It brought me here; maybe it can send me back. Even if it's a long shot, I'll give it my all." However, the thought of the powerful Wu guards near the palace gate sent shivers down his spine.

As he pondered these thoughts, a sudden commotion broke out in the street. Angry shouts were followed by the sound of a scuffle, and a long stick came flying through the air, landing squarely on Xiahou and Bai's foreheads. It was a heavy, pitch-black wooden staff, denser than steel. With a loud clang, sparks flew from Xiahou's earth-colored forehead and Bai's white, blade-like head.

Xiahou managed to keep his temper in check, but Bai had never been so insulted. In the mountains, there was a saying that a tiger's butt was untouchable, which applied doubly to a pixiu. No creature could strike a pixiu's head and live to tell the tale. Bai's head was off-limits to everyone except Xiahou.

With a wild roar, Bai leaped seven or eight meters into the air, his long arms whirling like windmills, a ball of white light shooting towards the direction the staff had come from.

Xiahou was alarmed. If Bai attacked, someone would surely die. He knew that killing wasn't something one could easily walk away from, no matter the circumstances. He sprang into action, dashing to the street center and grabbing Bai's hind legs just as his claws were millimeters away from a stunned young man's head. Using all his strength, he managed to pull Bai back.

With a hissing sound, Bai's claws scraped the ground, shredding the thick stone slabs into dust and scattering stone chips everywhere.

Bai turned to glare at Xiahou with a fierce look, but recognizing his friend, the anger in his eyes subsided slightly. He jumped around, chattering and complaining loudly, rubbing his head with exaggerated motions of indignation.

Xiahou couldn't be bothered with Bai's antics. Bai, nearing adulthood, had scales tough enough to withstand a velociraptor's claws. The wooden staff, despite its considerable weight, probably didn't even scratch him. Bai was just using this as an excuse to cause some havoc. A fierce beast at heart, Bai had gone too many days without shedding blood and was getting restless.

The staff had come from a spot where an old man lay on the ground, curled up, his beard and hair tangled together, and his face covered in dirt and dust. The young man, who had been terrified by Bai's speed and ferocity, was retreating quickly, surrounded by several guards.

The old man reached out with a trembling hand, groping around the ground. "My cane, my cane."

Xiahou felt a pang of sympathy, while Bai, always efficient, darted over, grabbed the staff, and tossed it back beside the old man. Bai then extended a long arm, poking and prodding the old man curiously, especially focusing on his hips and thighs. Finding the old man's flesh not to his liking, Bai sneezed and bounded back to Xiahou.

Grasping his staff, the old man struggled to his feet, trembling. His eyes, clouded with cataracts, fixed on Xiahou. "Thank you, young man. Why did someone attack me?" Now standing, Xiahou saw that the old man was nearly as tall as himself. It was surprising that he could curl up so small on the ground, likely due to the pain.

Noticing several dirty footprints on the old man's robe, Xiahou brushed them off, then took his money pouch from his belt and pressed it into the old man's hand. Guiding him toward the roadside, Xiahou said, "No need to thank me. Your eyesight is poor. You should have someone guide you when you go out. Running into such scoundrels isn't good."

The old man tightened his grip on the pouch, the clink of coins audible. He looked at Xiahou with his blind eyes, trying to return the pouch. Xiahou frowned and whispered, "Keep it. Don't argue with me. You're old and were kicked by those brutes. Go see a Wu doctor before you end up with internal injuries."

Cutting off the old man's protests, Xiahou added sternly, "The Wu doctors in An Yi don't treat injuries for free like the ones in my village. This money came easily to me, and I have nowhere to spend it. Take it and go."

The old man, puzzled, looked at Xiahou for a long moment, unwilling to leave. After a dry cough, he muttered, "But wouldn't that leave trouble for you?"

Xiahou laughed at the old man's conscience. Worried about causing trouble for him? If the old man had run faster, Xiahou could have delayed the guards and then fled himself, avoiding the hassle.

Just as Xiahou was about to speak, the young man who had nearly been struck by Bai's claws screamed furiously, his voice shrill and grating like shattering glass. "Seize that giant! I want to break his bones one by one. Kill that filthy old man! And capture that pixiu for me!"

The young man's guards didn't move, but from the surrounding crowd, thirty hulking men emerged. They wore matching green outfits and heavy swords at their waists, their eyes gleaming with power, clearly strong Wu warriors. The leader, a calm and composed man carrying an ebony box, had an emblem of two green cauldrons embroidered on his left chest—a high-ranking Wu warrior of the second rank, stronger than Xingtian Dafeng by far.

Xiahou cautiously took a step back, his eyes narrowing as a dangerous glint emerged. Bai, sensing the immense power of the leader, more formidable than Xiahou and himself combined, bristled. His scales rose, and white fur stood on end, his eyes flashing blood-red. The two positioned themselves protectively in front of the old man.

The crowd gasped in awe, while the young man looked like he had swallowed a dragon egg, his eyes bulging. Even the old man seemed shocked, quickly glancing up at Xiahou's towering figure.

A young girl in a green dress, radiating arrogance and impatience, pushed through the crowd. "What are you doing now? Yiling, if you damage the pearls I just bought in a fight, I'll have your head."

The second-rank Wu warrior hesitated, then laughed and handed his box to a guard before stepping forward.

A terrifying spiritual pressure surged towards Xiahou and Bai. Xiahou stood firm, but Bai, defiantly resisting the pressure, took a step forward. Both coughed up blood simultaneously. Xiahou remained steadfast, but Bai, weakened, retreated a step.

The girl, frowning in disgust at the blood on the ground, snapped, "What is going on? Brother, you finally agreed to accompany me shopping, and now you're fighting a lowly Wu warrior and an old beggar?"

The young man who had ordered the attack chuckled nervously, cautiously approaching the girl. With a cold glance at Xiahou, he said, "I didn't start this. The old beggar wandered onto the noble path, so I had him beaten. Then this guy and his pixiu intervened. Yiling was fetching your things, so I was almost killed by that pixiu."

The girl looked at Xiahou with extreme disdain, almost as if bestowing a favor upon him. She spoke coldly, "I've finally returned home from the Li Wu Temple and want to buy some rare items to present to Master Li Wu. Don't waste my time. Kill this old wretch. As for the Pixiu, give it to me as a gift. And this man, since he's a Wu, cripple him."

Xiahou's anger flared, and he shouted, "You little brat! How can you be so vicious at such a young age? You all deserve to die for your disregard for human life!"

The young man and the girl were stunned, taking a moment to process Xiahou's words. After a brief silence, they and their guards burst into laughter. "Big guy, where did you come from? Look at this old man; he's a wretch, worse than a slave. And you're a Wuzhu, yet you defend him?"

Yiling, who had used his spiritual pressure to make Xiahou and Bai cough up blood, shook his head disdainfully. "Kid, which Wu clan are you from? Don't you know the rules? Wretches like him aren't even allowed into Anyi. He dared to walk down the noble's path. My lord killing him is sanctioned by Da Xia law; he could even claim a reward. Do you understand?"

Xiahou furrowed his brow, glanced at the trembling old man behind him, then turned back resolutely. "Damn it, this old man just has poor eyesight and walked the wrong way. You could have just let him leave. Why kill him? Everyone has parents. He's so old, and you..."

The girl sneered, "Old and useless, these wretches are the most worthless creatures, worse than livestock."

Xiahou roared, "Shut up, you vile woman!"

The crowd gasped.

The girl, the young man, and Yiling were all taken aback. Not only was Xiahou's voice loud, but his words also left them utterly astonished. A Wu insulting another Wu of higher status for a wretch? They were bewildered.

Yiling recovered first, enraged, "Kid, no one in Anyi can save you now! Do you know who our master and young lady are? Our lord is the Anyi Magistrate under Zhong Tianhou! And you, a mere Wuzhu, dare to insult our lady?"

In his past life, Xiahou was occasionally impulsive and fervently passionate, almost blindly so. He held a stubborn commitment to his beliefs, which explained his ruthless actions during his missions.

In this life, influenced by his relatives like Chihu Xiong, Xiahou had developed a fearless and almost wild demeanor. When something crossed his bottom line, he became incredibly impulsive.

The son and daughter of the Anyi Magistrate before him had crossed that line. Xiahou, influenced by traditional scholars in his past life, did not look down on the old man due to his status as a wretch. To him, this was a pitiful old man nearing the end of his life. Killing an old man for some absurd rules was intolerable. He could not watch an old man be killed for a ridiculous reason right in front of him.

With veins bulging on his forehead, Xiahou spat out a string of venomous insults, "Vile woman! You're young, but you look decent enough. You have a figure, a decent face, and a bit of charm. Yet, with such a vicious heart, I doubt you'll ever get married! A woman with a heart like yours wouldn't even be touched by men in a brothel!"

Spewing these harsh words felt incredibly satisfying for Xiahou. He hadn't cursed someone so freely in ages. Though he regretted not being more skilled in insults, he felt it was enough.

The noble children of Anyi had never heard such harsh and venomous words.

The girl turned pale and fainted. She was a Wu, one of the highest-status members of the Da Xia dynasty, and a member of the esteemed Pei Temple. She couldn't fathom that someone could hurl such vile insults at her, comparing her to the women of Pink Tone Lake, and even saying she was worse than them. A lower-tier Wuzhu openly commenting on her figure and appearance was beyond her comprehension.

Her brother, panicking, caught her small frame, desperately shaking her to wake her up.

As Yiling's silent punch cut through the air with a force that seemed to vacuum the entire street, it barreled straight toward Xiahou's chest.

Xiahou rolled his eyes and closed them. "Damn it, I should remember that heroics without power are foolish. How did I forget about this loyal second cauldron enforcer?"

The punch, capable of obliterating Xiahou, Bai, the old man, and half the street, was intercepted mid-flight. The wind rings around Yiling's arm were crushed by an unseen hand. In an effortless motion, the punch's full force was sent back into Yiling's body. His body expanded then contracted, and blood began to seep from his seven orifices.

Xiahou opened his eyes, astonished to see a black-robed Wuzhu standing before him. The onlookers had already scattered, fleeing the danger.

Yiling and the Anyi Magistrate's son glared at the black-robed figure, their faces turning deathly pale as recognition set in.

The black-robed Wuzhu spoke coldly, "Regardless of your reasons, Da Xia law forbids private duels among cauldron Wu in Anyi. Violators will be executed."

Yiling retreated in fear, unable to speak. In his rage, he had forgotten this rule. The black-robed Wuzhu was not someone he could afford to offend. Even his master's superior, Zhong Tianhou, wouldn't dare cross this person.

With an emblem of six small green tripods and a discreet black star on his chest, the black-robed Wuzhu sneered at Yiling before vanishing into thin air.

Sensing danger, Xiahou and Bai fled, taking the old man with them. Xiahou had no interest in chivalry and wasn't about to stick around to see the outcome. With Yiling unable to act, the thirty high-level Wuzhu could still easily tear them apart. Only a fool would stay.

After zigzagging through several streets, Xiahou finally set the old man down.

Coughing violently, the old man studied Xiahou with a complex expression. "Anyi is too dangerous. I should leave. What is your name, sir?"

Xiahou, uninterested in any melodramatic gratitude, swiftly told the old man his name and escorted him to the western gate of Anyi before sneaking back to Pink Tone Lake.

This incident could have serious repercussions. Could a mere Anyi Magistrate dare to challenge the powerful Xingtian family, one of the four great Wuzhu families?

He needed to consult with Xingtian Dafeng.

As he made his way back to Pink Tone Lake, Xiahou cursed under his breath, "Nobles are the same everywhere. These spoiled brats of Da Xia, tsk tsk!"