171: restless

The city gate passage was deep and long, the light dim, and footsteps echoed between the rock walls. The moment they exited the passage, a wave of noise and mixed odors assaulted them.

Iron Rock City was much larger on the inside than it appeared from the outside.

The streets were wide, all paved with bluestone slabs, with sand filling the gaps between them, making the ground solid and level underfoot. The buildings on both sides were uniformly built from iron rock, square and sturdy, with low eaves and thick doors and windows, clearly constructed to resist the severe cold and sandstorms from beyond the border.

The streets were bustling with people of complex origins:

Groups of three to five fully armored soldiers of the Zhenbei Army (Zhenbei Army); traveling Martial Artists covered in dust and carrying weapons; merchants wrapped in furs leading packhorses; and one could even spot a few merchants from the Northern Desert (Northern Desert) with high noses, deep-set eyes, clad in animal hides, with bone ornaments woven into their braids, haggling with Central Plains merchants under the guidance of interpreters.

The air was thick with the gamey smell of sheep and cattle, the slight sourness of tanned leather, dust, sweat, the stench of low-quality wine, and an elusive, yet persistent, mixed scent of blood and rust.

That was the unique aroma of a frontier military town.

Chen Linsheng walked slowly, leading the Date-Red Horse, his perception of Tracking Perfection quietly spreading out.

He noticed that almost every street-facing wall was plastered with notices of varying sizes. Some were government decrees, but most were 'Bounty Lists' written in black ink on white paper, stamped with vermilion official seals or the insignia of some organization.

The contents were varied:

"Bounty: Three spies from the Northern Desert 'Blood Wolf Tribe.' Descriptions as follows... Dead or alive, fifty taels of silver per person, ten Military Merit points."

"Wanted: Three pairs of adult 'Sand Scorpion' stingers, must have the venom sac intact. Price thirty taels per pair or equivalent supplies."

"Recruiting: Those proficient in the Northern Desert language to accompany military movements. Two taels per day. Dangerous. Requires assessment."

"Wanted: The bandit 'A Gust of Wind' and his accomplices. They are operating in the northeast of the Black Wind Gobi, having robbed seven caravans and killed twenty-seven people. Reward for capturing the bandit leader is two hundred taels of silver and fifty Military Merit points; thirty taels of silver and five Military Merit points for each accomplice."

People often gathered around the bounty lists, pointing and whispering. Some Martial Artists who looked capable would tear off a notice and report to a certain place in the city.

"Military Merit Hall..." Chen Linsheng recalled the name mentioned by Captain Wang Lang.

He needed to settle down first.

He walked about half a li down the main street and found an inn on a relatively quiet side street. The sign read 'Old Soldier's Post.' The facade was simple, several horses were tethered in the courtyard, and the stable was cleanly swept.

The innkeeper was a one-armed old man wearing a faded, washed-out old military coat, his left sleeve tucked empty into his belt. Seeing Chen Linsheng enter, he lifted his eyelids, glanced over, and said in a dry voice: "Lodging? Ten wen a night for the communal room, thirty wen for a private room. Horse feed is extra."

"Private room, for three days first. Good feed for the horse." Chen Linsheng handed over ninety wen.

The one-armed innkeeper took the money and tossed over an iron key: "Room C-7. There is a well in the back courtyard. For meals, go to 'Old Cao's Eatery' on the front street; I don't provide food here."

Chen Linsheng thanked him, led the horse to the stable in the back courtyard, unloaded his baggage, and entered the room to tidy up slightly.

The room was small, containing only a bed, a table, and a stool. The window was set quite high, and the walls were thick, providing excellent sound insulation. Although simple, it was clean and tidy.

Putting down his baggage, Chen Linsheng went out, intending to fill his stomach first before gathering news.

The 'Old Cao's Eatery' on the front street was a large open shed with over a dozen rough wooden tables and benches. It was noon, and it was about seventy to eighty percent full. Most patrons were dressed like Martial Artists, traveling merchants, or mercenaries. The noise was clamorous, and the air was thick with the smell of alcohol.

Chen Linsheng found an empty spot against the wall, ordered two large bowls of mutton soup noodles, a plate of braised beef, and a pot of coarse tea.

While waiting for the food, he quietly listened to the discussions around him.

"...Did you hear? The 'Blood Wolf Tribe' snuck into 'Eagle Beak Whistle' the night before last!"

"Real or fake? Eagle Beak Whistle is less than one hundred and fifty li from here!"

"Absolutely true! My cousin is a squad leader in the Zhenbei Army; he told me when he came back yesterday to transport supplies. Seven brothers died, and several were injured, but those wolf cubs didn't get away unscathed either—three were pierced by the 'Mountain-Breaking Crossbows.'"

"Damn it, these wolf cubs are getting more audacious! I say, we should ask the masters from the Army Breaker Manor to sweep north again!"

"Army Breaker Manor? They seem to be busy with other things recently... Up north near the ruins, I heard the fighting is even fiercer. The 'Sand Scorpions,' the 'Vultures,' and several Noble Families from the interior are all fighting for territory."

"Ruins? What good stuff did they dig up to cause such a commotion?"

"Who knows! Anyway, ordinary people shouldn't even think about getting involved. That area is a meat grinder now; without some real skill, going there is just signing your own death warrant..."

As they spoke, the waiter brought the soup noodles and braised meat. Chen Linsheng lowered his head to eat, his ears continuing to filter information.

At that moment, loud laughter suddenly erupted from the table next to him.

There were five or six burly men, wearing half-worn leather armor, swords hanging at their waists. Every one of them had bulging temples and a formidable presence, clearly local mercenaries or rogue soldiers. They were surrounding a young Martial Artist, who looked about twenty years old, with a fair complexion, wearing a silk tunic and carrying a long sword—the appearance of a Young Master from a noble family. At the moment, his face was flushed red, and the hand gripping his sword was trembling slightly.

"Young Master, the mutton here is gamey, and the noodles are hard. Can your delicate stomach handle it?" a scar-faced man sneered, reaching out to pat the young Martial Artist's shoulder.

The young Martial Artist sidestepped and said coldly, "Please have some self-respect."

"Self-respect?" Another one-eyed man laughed loudly. "When I was out here chopping up wolf cubs, you were still drinking milk in your mother's arms! Why are you putting on airs here?"

The group of men laughed even louder. Surrounding diners glanced over, but no one spoke up. The innkeeper, Old Cao, kept his head down counting accounts behind the counter, as if he hadn't noticed.

The scar-faced man suddenly picked up his bowl of murky strong liquor and staggered over to Chen Linsheng's table—his original target was the young Martial Artist, but he changed his mind midway because Chen Linsheng's quiet eating and apparent disregard for the commotion seemed 'more interesting' to him.

"Hey, kid." The scar-faced man loomed over him, his breath reeking of alcohol. "You look new here, must be from the interior, right? Brother invites you to have a drink and make friends?"

As he spoke, he flicked his wrist, and the strong liquor in the bowl was flung directly toward Chen Linsheng's face!

This move was completely unexpected and swift and tricky; an ordinary Martial Artist would find it almost impossible to dodge.

But Chen Linsheng acted as if he had foreseen it. The instant the man's wrist moved, he had already put down his chopsticks, lightly pressed down on the edge of the table with his left hand, and slid his body, along with the stool, half a foot to the right.

"Splash—"

All the liquor splashed into empty space, spilling onto the floor.

Chen Linsheng sat back down, picked up his chopsticks, and continued eating his noodles, without even lifting his eyelids from start to finish.

The scar-faced man froze for a moment, then became enraged: "Hey! I offered you respect—"

Before he could finish speaking, he suddenly froze stiff.

Because Chen Linsheng had looked up.

Those eyes were calm and waveless, yet as deep as an ancient well, showing not the slightest hint of fear or anger, only a heaviness as solid as a mountain and an icy indifference, as if he were looking at a stone.

What terrified the scar-faced man even more was that at the moment their eyes met, he felt an invisible yet majestic Aura flash past the young man—it wasn't an external release of True Qi, but an oppressive feeling naturally emanating from a magnificent Foundation that seemed to bear immense weight and was perfectly integrated!

The men behind him also sensed something was wrong, and their laughter abruptly stopped.

Chen Linsheng slowly put down his chopsticks, took a few copper coins from his pocket, placed them on the table, and stood up.

As he passed by the scar-faced man, his steps did not pause, only his calm voice remained:

"I paid for the liquor."

With that, he walked out of the eatery, his figure disappearing around the street corner.