4: Chapter 4 The Blue Wolf Gang

In September, the heat in Qingyang County had not yet dissipated.

When Jiang Yan walked into the city gate, the two old veteran guards were leaning against the wall, dozing off.

One of them lifted his eyelids and saw a young man wearing coarse cloth clothes, with a cloth-wrapped blade tucked into his waist and a tattered bundle on his back. Thinking he was just a poor refugee, he couldn't even be bothered to stop him.

Jiang Yan did not stop and walked straight into the city.

Qingyang County was a gateway city in the south of the Jin Kingdom; it was not large, but it was considered prosperous.

Along the main street, shops were lined up one after another—cloth shops, grain stores, blacksmiths, and pharmacies. Their signs varied in age, some faded by wind and sun.

The streets were bustling with people. Peddlers carrying poles on their shoulders shouted to sell their wares, and an old man selling candied haws squeezed through the crowd holding a straw target. The air was filled with the scent of fried pastries mixed with the smell of mule and horse manure.

Jiang Yan walked for a while on the street and stopped in front of a pharmacy called "Jishitang."

Inside the shop, the fragrance of herbs was overwhelming. On the counter were a copper mortar and a steelyard balance. An old shopkeeper of about fifty was leaning over the counter using an abacus, the beads clicking and clacking loudly.

Jiang Yan walked in and placed the bundle on the counter to untie it.

The old shopkeeper looked up, just about to speak, but when his gaze swept over the items in the bundle, the sound of the abacus stopped.

It was a wild ginseng root with a dense rhizome, intact root hairs, and a yellowish-brown, lustrous skin; its quality was excellent.

Beside it were several pieces of fleeceflower root and Solomon's seal, none of which were small.

The old shopkeeper picked up the ginseng and examined it repeatedly for a long time, then leaned in to smell it before looking up to size up Jiang Yan.

The young man was dressed in rags, but his hands were very clean, with no dirt under his fingernails.

His skin was too fair for a farmer, and his features were refined—high brow bone, straight nose bridge, and thin, well-defined lips.

What was most special were his eyes, black as deep pools. When he looked at people, he lacked the evasion and awkwardness a seventeen-year-old should have; he was so calm that it made one's heart creep.

"Little brother, this ginseng..." the old shopkeeper deliberated his phrasing, "where did you dig it up?"

"In the mountains." Jiang Yan's voice was neither high nor low.

The old shopkeeper waited, but when no further explanation came, he knew this young man did not want to say more.

He had been in the pharmacy business for thirty years and had seen all kinds of people. Although the person before him was dressed shabbily, his bearing was not that of an ordinary person.

"This ginseng is of good quality; I will give you one hundred and twenty taels." The old shopkeeper held up two fingers to gesture, "Added with these pieces of fleeceflower root and Solomon's seal, it totals one hundred and fifty taels. The price is fair; you can ask around the whole county, no one will offer you higher than me."

Jiang Yan looked at him.

The old shopkeeper felt a bit uncomfortable under his gaze and coughed dryly: "How about... one hundred and sixty taels?"

"That is acceptable," Jiang Yan said.

The old shopkeeper breathed a sigh of relief, turned around, took out banknotes and loose silver from under the counter, counted out one hundred and sixty taels, and handed them over.

Jiang Yan took them, folded the banknotes and tucked them into his chest, and put the loose silver into an old cloth bag at his waist.

When he left, the old shopkeeper shouted from behind: "Little brother, come back if you have good medicinal herbs in the future."

Jiang Yan did not turn back and waved his hand.

He first went to a clothing store to buy a new outfit.

The shopkeeper was a woman in her forties with a round face and a loud voice.

Seeing Jiang Yan come in, she habitually wanted to greet him with "Feel free to look around, customer," but when she saw his face clearly, the words choked in her throat, and her eyes lit up.

"Oh my, Young Master, with your looks, anything you wear would look good!" She enthusiastically pulled out a cyan long gown, "Look at this one, cloud brocade material, the color is perfect, it complements your skin tone."

Jiang Yan took it and looked; the material was average, but it was much better than the coarse cloth he was wearing.

He also picked out a dark gray short martial arts outfit, a black belt, and a pair of new cloth boots, spending a total of one tael and two mace of silver.

He re-wrapped Chief Constable Zhao Tieshan's waist blade with clean cloth, and after changing into his new outfit and hanging it at his waist, he was completely transformed.

Wearing the cyan long gown, his shoulders were shoulders and his waist was a waist; although the material wasn't considered high-quality, it didn't matter because the person wearing it had a well-proportioned figure.

He stood in front of the bronze mirror at the shop entrance to look at himself. The person in the mirror had cold, clear features and a calm temperament, like a blade wrapped in cloth—no edge could be seen, yet it made people afraid to treat him lightly.

The female shopkeeper clicked her tongue in amazement from the side: "Young Master, could you be a Young Master from some prestigious household? With this appearance and this bearing, our Qingyang County could not raise someone like you."

Jiang Yan did not reply, paid the silver, and walked out.

It was nearly noon, and there were even more people on the street. Jiang Yan turned into a restaurant called "Zuixianju," and a waiter came up to greet him, leading him to a seat by the window on the second floor.

"What would you like to eat, customer?"

"Bring four signature dishes and a pot of wine."

The waiter agreed and went off.

Before long, the dishes were brought up—braised pork knuckle, steamed sea bass, scallion-fried lamb, a plate of seasonal vegetables, and a pot of warmed yellow wine.

Jiang Yan picked up his chopsticks and picked up a piece of the pork knuckle.

The meat was stewed until tender and melted in the mouth; the sauce was salty with a hint of sweetness, and the aroma of the fat dissolved on the tip of his tongue.

He ate neither fast nor slow, chewing carefully with every bite, as if rediscovering the taste of food.

In his past life, he had practiced abstinence from grain for many years, and his desire for food had long since faded.

But in this Mortal body, eating such a meal gave him an indescribable sense of groundedness.

There weren't many people in the restaurant. At the next table sat two men, one fat and one thin, drinking and boasting.

The fat man said: "The Green Wolf Gang collected protection money again yesterday. My uncle's shop paid two taels of silver this month, which is one tael more than last month. He was so angry he cursed, but dared he not pay? Last time Old Li was tough, and the next day his shop was smashed, and he had a leg broken."

The thin man lowered his voice: "Keep your voice down, the owner of this Zuixianju is protected by the Green Wolf Gang."

The fat man was dismissive: "What are you afraid of? The Green Wolf Gang isn't here. Speaking of which, among our county's three major Gangs—the Green Wolf Gang, the Iron Blade Society, and the Axe Gang—which one isn't troublesome?"

"Gang Leader Liu Zhen of the Green Wolf Gang is a Second-rate Martial Artist; his iron palms once cleaved a cow to death."

"Society Leader Wei Tiedao of the Iron Blade Society is also a Second-rate Martial Artist; his fast blade is said to be able to split a three-inch-thick door plank in one strike."

"And there is also a vice-leader who is a Second-rate Martial Artist. Although he suffered a severe injury and is in a semi-crippled state, if pushed to the limit, he might still be able to unleash the strength of a Second-rate Martial Artist."

"Gang Leader Cheng Biao of the Axe Gang is slightly worse, at the Peak of a Third-rate Martial Artist, but the Axe Gang has many capable people, and if a real fight breaks out, they fear no one."

The thin man sighed: "In this world, having martial arts skills means being above others. People like us can only honestly pay the protection money."

Jiang Yan held his wine cup, the wine swaying slightly in the cup.

Second-rate Martial Artists. Three of them.

He took a sip of wine; the yellow wine was warm, sliding down his throat, leaving his stomach feeling warm and cozy.

After the meal, Jiang Yan settled the bill, went downstairs, and walked onto the street.

He found a stall selling sugar figures by the side of the street, spent two wen to buy a sugar figure, and walked toward the south of the city while eating it slowly.

After walking for the time it takes to burn an incense stick, he turned into a quiet alley.

He stopped and turned around.

Two men who looked like thugs were following behind him—one with a sharp, monkey-like face, the other with a face full of flabby flesh; both were clutching short sticks in their hands.

The sharp-faced one grinned: "Heh, the kid is quite alert."

The one with the face full of flabby flesh took a step forward, patting the short stick in his palm: "If you know what's good for you, hand over the silver. I saw you take out money at the clothing store just now; you must have quite a few banknotes, right?"

Jiang Yan finished the last bite of the sugar figure and threw the bamboo stick away casually.

The bamboo stick embedded itself into a crack in the wall, three parts deep.

The eyelids of the two thugs twitched simultaneously.

"I have a few questions for you two," Jiang Yan said, his voice neither high nor low, "Tell me clearly about the strength of the three major Gangs in Qingyang County."

The sharp-faced one's expression changed; he exchanged a look with his companion, and his hand gripping the short stick tightened involuntarily.

"Who... who are you?"

Jiang Yan did not speak and took a step forward.

This step was not fast, but the sharp-faced one felt as if he had been targeted by something; the hair on his back stood on end.

He couldn't describe that feeling—when the young man's eyes looked at him, it didn't feel like looking at a person; it was more like looking at a piece of meat on a chopping block.

"I'll talk! I'll talk!" The sharp-faced one's short stick slipped from his hand and fell to the ground, "The Green Wolf Gang is in the west of the city. Gang Leader Liu Zhen is a Second-rate Martial Artist who practices the Iron Sand Palm. He has hundreds of men under him, and there are two or three Third-rate Martial Artists."

"The Iron Blade Society is in the east of the city. Society Leader Wei Tiedao is also a Second-rate Martial Artist who wields a thirty-six-jin ghost-head blade. The vice-leader is also a Second-rate Martial Artist; it is said he suffered a severe injury and can hardly exert the strength of a Second-rate Martial Artist."

"The Axe Gang is in the north of the city. Gang Leader Cheng Biao is at the Peak of a Third-rate Martial Artist and specializes in using twin axes. They have the most men, and it is said there are seven or eight Third-rate Martial Artists."

Jiang Yan asked: "Where does Gang Leader Liu Zhen live?"

The sharp-faced one swallowed a mouthful of saliva: "The Green Wolf Gang's main headquarters is at the very end of Willow Alley in the west of the city. Gang Leader Liu Zhen lives in the backyard of the main headquarters."

The one with the face full of flabby flesh realized at this moment that it was too embarrassing for two grown men to be scared by a young man, so he braced himself and said: "Why are you asking about the Green Wolf Gang? Let me tell you, we brothers make our living following the Green Wolf Gang, you—"

Before he finished, Jiang Yan's hand landed on his shoulder.

That hand was slender and fair, looking as if it had no strength at all.

But the thug with the face full of flabby flesh felt as if his shoulder had been clamped by iron pliers; his bones creaked, and the pain made his legs tremble.

"Lead the way," Jiang Yan said.