Chapter Forty – Thus, Contact with the World Beyond the Mountains Began

Guo Xin’s mind was a mess, still unable to make sense of what had happened, when Xu Wenshan called for the servants to escort Guo Xin home and help carry grain from his house. Guo Xin stumbled back in confusion, measured the remaining grain in a haze, and watched the Xu family empty his storerooms, all without understanding what sort of contract he had signed with Xu Wenshan.

He called over his brightest fourth son and asked, “Four Dog, was today’s business a profit or a loss?”

His son calculated mentally and replied, “In terms of goods and money, it’s a profit. Our fields yielded five buckets of grain per acre last year. If we continue like this, the interest they ask comes to only two strings of coins a year. We borrowed twenty strings and only need to pay two in interest—a good deal. Moreover, he bought our surplus grain above market price, so we profit again.”

The Guo family had fifty-six buckets of millet left, sold to the Xu family at forty-two coins per bucket. The money, of course, was recorded by Xu Wenshan in the “Shopping Ledger,” and now the Guo family had twenty-two strings and three hundred fifty-two coins noted on it. Guo Xin considered this and saw it was true, but added, “Yet our surplus grain is gone, and I’ve not seen any of that money.”

His son replied, “But for the next five years, the Xu family will provide our grain and meat. Isn’t that a good thing?”

Guo Xin was finally at ease. That night, while lying in bed, a thought struck him: “The Xu family bought our grain at forty-two coins a bucket, but we can buy theirs at forty coins a bucket. That’s a net gain of one hundred twelve coins. Plus, they lent us twenty strings—enough to buy ten acres, which yields fifty buckets per year, two strings in value. They ask so little interest; my family’s still earning… But where has all this money gone?”

As he puzzled over it, he drifted into a mysterious state.

…

With the Guo family settled, the Xu family’s loyal retainers looked at Xu Wenshan with reverence. As he saw them off, some even bowed deeply to him.

These men served Xu Changshui, not Xu Wenshan. If the elder Xu passed, they would follow him in death. Still, they could not help respecting the next family master.

For now, the “Shopping Ledger” tactic had tied the Guo family’s interests to Xu Wenshan’s oil and grain business, ensuring they wouldn’t cause trouble in the short term. When the Guo family eventually realized they’d been outmaneuvered, they would undoubtedly make a fuss again, but by then Xu Wenshan would have returned.

It was time to depart.

This time, Xu Wenshan’s destination was the county seat.

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He had learned from a Daoist priest that his current location was a remote mountain valley in the state of Chen. The genuine wealth of Chen lay on the Zifu Plain—a vast basin among the mountains, fertile as far as the eye could see, crisscrossed by rivers, a land blessed by heaven.

It was said the rice there was fragrant, the fish fat, and lately a food called “noodles” had become popular.

It was said the region was vast and populous; any prefecture boasted a million souls, and the cities had everything imaginable.

It was said merchants thronged the markets, peddlers swarmed like weaving shuttles, and anything could be found for sale.

It was said there were traders from the Western Regions, bringing exotic foods and strange fruits.

One morning, Xu Wenshan, accompanied by Lu Ze and a cart loaded with pelts and jerky, drove his ox cart into the mountains.

This journey was not only to sell his goods, but also to bring back new products and techniques from this world, to ensure Luhe Valley’s technology matched that of the wider world.

Apart from two servants, Xu Wenshan told no one else of his departure. He took only Lu Ze, and together they set out before dawn.

Luhe Valley connected to the county seat by a single narrow path. The two—no, one man and one demon—traversed the mountains, eating jerky and dry rations, drinking from mountain streams, resting by campfire and meditating to cultivate when fatigued.

Whenever they cultivated, demonic energy surged around them. The beasts and poisonous insects of the mountains, sensitive to such aura, knew these travelers were not ordinary prey and stayed clear. The occasional foolhardy creature merely became an extra meal.

To maximize his cultivation, Xu Wenshan deliberately shortened his sleep. Once in the county seat, he would have to conceal all trace of demonic aura, so he pushed to strengthen himself before arrival.

After seven or eight days, as they slowly pushed the ox cart down the road, Xu Wenshan suddenly spotted an old man ahead.

The elder, gentle-faced and kindly, wore a gourd at his waist and leaned on a staff. Catching sight of Xu Wenshan and Lu Ze, he bowed and said, “You two young fellows, do you have any water?”

Xu Wenshan replied, “Yes. Do you need some?”

The old man smiled. “Could you spare me a drink? I haven’t had water in days.”

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Xu Wenshan shared some water with the old man, who was deeply grateful, chatting with the pair and cheerfully inquiring about their origins and destination.

The elder seemed utterly harmless, showing no sign of danger, so Xu Wenshan relaxed his guard somewhat. He merely said he was a mountain man, heading to the county seat to visit relatives.

Before leaving, the old man tapped the ox cart and asked, “What do you have in here?”

Xu Wenshan’s pelts were stowed beneath a tattered cloth, tightly bound with hemp rope.

He answered, “Just dried grass and rations.”

The old man nodded and soon departed.

Seeing nothing unusual about him, Xu Wenshan quickly put the encounter out of mind and continued on his way. Suddenly, he heard the twang of a bowstring, rolled aside, and saw an arrow embedded where he’d just stood.

Looking up, he saw seven or eight men emerge from the mountain, clad in short garb, wielding bows, broadswords, and daggers. The old man from the road was among them, squinting at Xu Wenshan with a sly look in his eye.

Xu Wenshan instantly understood: he’d run into bandits, and the old man was their scout.

“You’re alert, boy, but it’s a pity you crossed paths with me. Did you think I couldn’t read your cart tracks or guess what you’re hauling? Pelts, isn’t it? Just right—my brothers and I need new clothes,” the elder called.

Another leader, with a defiant look, barked, “Hand over your goods and I’ll let you walk away. Refuse, and you’ll pay with your life!”

Xu Wenshan’s face was expressionless; he reached beneath the cart and drew out his trusty bow.

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