Immortal Connections - Chapter 48 preview

Chapter 48 - Wu Ying

A week of foraging through the forest had left the pair of gatherers – one by profession, the second following along like a lost puppy – rather bedraggled. While Wu Ying had an assortment of gear to make existence outside of civilization more comfortable, he had never been one to need elaborate amounts of luxury.

A tent or two, pots and washbasins for wiping oneself down, the occasional river and hot spring was more than adequate. Even the soaps that he utilized were often purchased from special merchants who understood that the lack of scent in their products was a selling point, rather than a detraction.

“We look like a pair of beggars,” the boy complained, staring down at the dirt that covered his clothing, the stains that had refused to come out. Unlike Wu Ying, he had not a change of clothes, the bandit camp when the boy eventually chose to ask for them to swing by abandoned and empty. “No one is going to trade with us.”

“You look like a beggar.” Wu Ying gestured to the small grouping of huts. “But it’s because of our state we’re starting here.”

“I don’t even think they have a proper inn…”

“They do. Part of the stopping point along the road we saw.” He had been tracing the road and the travellers along it for the last few days, keeping track of the coming and goings in the village before they had made their way over. 

While the village did have a few fields for farming, most of the farming was subsistence farming, supplementary foodstuff for the occupants of the village rather than farming meant to trade. There were not enough fields for that, nor did the village require it. After all, they had a much closer and profitable source of funds nearby.

The plum orchards stretched quite a distance, covering a number of hills, having replaced the natural forest. Large, solid fences and a deep ditch surrounded the furthest fields, such that it blocked the easy entry by spirit beasts. The packs of roaming dogs – not foo dogs, but actual canines – traversed the ground around the village, both eager to play with their masters and watchful of newcomers.

It was the presence of the packs that dictated their point of entry, their slow ambling walk to the village via the pressed earth roadway. Wu Ying kept his head down as they walked, dragging one foot across the ground as he did so and then turning back a little to stare at the tiny furrow. 

"What?" Ze Mu said, tiredly.

"This isn't normal earth."

"It's a road. Of course it's not normal earth." Ze Mu did not need to be asked to explain. "Conjured and pressed by an immortal. How do you make earth?"

"I don't." Wu Ying shrugged. "But generally, stamped earth, gravel and stone and then more dirt and clay and pressed earth. Sometimes wood or stone slats in-between to help with drainage."

"Sounds like a lot of work. Just get an immortal back if it gets damaged." Ze Mu gestured down the way. "Takes the royal roadworks a day or two to make all this."

"Huh." Wu Ying rubbed his chin, trying to understand the difference. Peasant living that was so familiar, and then massive use of chi and dao in ways that he could not even imagine. "Why even bother with roads?"

“Not everyone is as strong as you.” Ze Mu crossed his arms. “Most people can’t fly for that long, so we need to rest. Nevermind children and our elders who also need to travel at times. And then, of course, there’s all the goods that need to be transported.” He waved at Wu Ying, taking in his storage rings that gave the man unprecedented amounts of transportation ability, even if they were breaking down. “We can’t all carry a household with us.”

“Ah…” Wu Ying rubbed his chin. “My jobs going to be hard enough, without storage rings it makes it even more difficult. Are they truly that rare?”

“Down here, for sure. I believe the capital and other realms have more.”

“Right.” By this point the pair had managed to make it most of the way to the small buildings where a few curious villagers were staring at them. They looked concerned when they spotted the weapons the pair wore openly, parents drawing curious children back while a trio of braver residents with a maul, pitchfork and spear walked over to the two.

“Halt! Who are you and what business do you have with us?” the leader, a big bear of a man that still wore a blacksmith apron hefted the maul as casual threat.

“You don’t want to do that,” Ze Mu said, warningly. That, of course, was the wrong thing to say to the group as the trio bristled.

“My name is Long Wu Ying. I’m a new Ascendant.” Raising his hands high to bring his hands away from his sword, he continued. “We have been traveling in the woods for a little while, gathering some herbs in hope of trade. If we could have a room, a bath and be pointed to your local merchant – or whoever might be interested in what we gathered – we would be grateful.” 

“You went into the woods?” the shortest member of the group, a good half-foot shorter than the burly blacksmith asked. Slightly pudgy with the baby fat yet to be melted from his face, he glanced past the orchards to where the woods begun. “How are you still alive?”

“Told you, you don’t want to be threatening this one.” Ze Mu touched his chest, remembering a nasty kick. “He’s a lot tougher than your usual Ascendants. Scared all the beasts off with his aura.”

Wu Ying shot the boy a glare, not having wanted to reveal his strength. Yet, now that it had come to that, he found himself pulsing his aura at the three just to punctuate the point. It made the spear wielder drop his weapon, the blacksmith to pale and audibly gulp. 

“Uh, yes. Honored Ascendant. Our apologies for the greeting. We have had problems with bandits lately. Terrible trouble…”

“No need.” Wu Ying assured them, offering a smile as he let his hand drop. No point in trying to act harmless any more. “So. The inn and bath?”

“This way, this way.” The blacksmith turned and hissing at the shaking spearman who took off, forgetting his weapon on the ground. It was the man with the pitchfork who bent low to grab it, startling and dropping it again as he realized that Wu Ying and Ze Mu had chosen to walk closer while he was bent over.

Ignoring the man’s antics, Wu Ying engaged the blacksmith in conversation as the other led him to the only inn in town. 

“So, tell me about your merchant and what you’re in need of. I have a little funds, and even more needs; so I fear I’ll be trading mostly.”

“Of course, that’s no concern, not at all. No…”

Resolving to deal with the stumbling, mumbling blacksmith – and village chief as he quickly learnt – Wu Ying made note to keep an eye on the boy. After all, he was already strutting down the road as though he owned it, borrowing Wu Ying’s importance.