Floating Immortal Order

Chapter 211: A Few Pieces of Silver

Chapter 211: A Few Pieces of Silver

Volume 2: Supreme

Chapter 211: A Few Pieces of Silver

The three bright silver moons hung in the heights of the sky. In the provincial capital below, many colored lanterns were lit, basking the city in the warm glow of fire.

Zhang Shun bore the cold, biting wind, wrapping his raggedy cotton jacket tighter around himself. His cotton clothes were covered in numerous patches of varying sizes. While the clothes were shabby, they were clean and the patchwork was meticulous, hinting that the clothes were frequently mended and washed by someone.

“I really wonder sometimes, when will these bitter days come to an end?” Peng Laosi said, sniffling to keep his nose from running. He was rubbing both of his hands together in a futile attempt to keep the chill of the frosty night at bay.

Zhang Shun stayed wrapped up tightly in his cotton jacket for a while to warm himself up. After a while, he took both of his hands back out from his sleeves, exposing them to the icy wind once more. He shook his head and said, “Let’s hurry up and get to work. If a supervising soldier comes by, we’ll be in for another beating.”

With that, he hoisted one of the massive, heavy limestone bricks in front of him up and onto the stone platform in front of him.

Peng Laosi also tried to lift a limestone brick, but after several attempts, he still didn’t manage to succeed. He sighed and said, “I’m getting old, far too old for this. I don’t have as much strength as you youngsters anymore.”

Zhang Shun kept his head down, laying one brick after the other onto the neatly arrayed bricks on the stone platform. Peng Laosi instead helped him to lather on the glutinous rice-gravel mortar, and they began to set the bricks neatly layer after layer.

Zooming out a bit, it was possible to see that this limestone platform was around 40 meters wide, and over 300 meters long. There were countless people dressed in similarly shabby clothes working on the lone stone platform, neatly laying down bricks. Occasionally, someone would collapse from exhaustion. Once a supervising soldier discovered them, they would ruthlessly thrash the fallen workers with a sinister-looking steel-barbed whip, sending flecks of blood flying through the air.

“Provincial Lord, the welcome platform will be completed in three days at the current rate of progress,” a general wearing black armor said respectfully to the old man standing beside him, his expression cruel and callous.

The old man was dressed in a long, ornate black robe. He was standing at the edge of a pavilion’s balcony, looking down at the long platform made from blue brick that was cutting lengthwise across a large majority of the provincial city. When he heard what the general said, he nodded.

The young general was sensible, adept at observing expressions and body language. After a moment of hesitation, he said, “Provincial Lord, why do you seem unhappy? Perhaps this one would be able to help relieve any difficulties.”

The old man looked down at the winking lantern lights densely dotting the city. Most of the residents were already fast asleep, leaving only the people from poorer cities and towns that were drafted into this difficult labor that didn’t pause even throughout the night.

The old man flicked his sleeves and turned around, returning to the warm pavilion. With a light sigh, he said, “Five days from now, the ruling sect’s two newly appointed envoys will arrive here in Anxi Province. I’m just a bit uneasy.”

The young general lowered his head, glancing at the countless people toiling away bitterly below the pavilion. Then, he turned back and followed the old man into the pavilion. He cupped his hands and said, “My lord, there is no need to be nervous. Didn’t Envoy Liu, who just left a few days ago, always place you in high importance? Even if two new envoys come in, they would still have to give Envoy Liu a bit of face, wouldn’t they?”

The old man frowned, knitting his brow. “Foolish!” he rebuked.

Inwardly unreconciled, the young general gritted his teeth and spoke once more. “Lord Patriarch has already been at the peak Xiantian stage for over 10 years. As soon as Envoy Liu came here, he immediately appointed Lord Patriarch as the ruler of the province. By now several years have passed, and my Xu Clan is deeply rooted in the provincial capital. Those two new envoys have to overlook a thing or two, no?”

The old man in the ornate long robe was called Xu Wenxuan. Aside from being the ruler of the Anxi Province, he was also the Patriarch of the Xu Clan.

(TL: This is a different ‘Xu’ character from Xu Disheng’s surname. Just a reminder that it’s a different Xu Clan.)

Xu Wenxuan gave the young general a cold sideways glare. “You’ve already been following me for two years. How can you still be so foolish? In the eyes of the envoys from the ruling sect, we’re hardly much more than ants. Before, all of that was just because Envoy Liu disdained any further interactions with us.”

The young general, Xu Sheng, opened his mouth, wanting to say something. But in the end, he hesitated and quietly closed his mouth.

Heedless to his inner thoughts, Xu Wenxuan shook his head once more and sighed. “We have no idea what the temper of these two new envoys will be like. We can only hope that they are like Envoy Liu, finding it beneath themselves to interact with us.”

… …

Three days passed.

There were a few more gaping tears in Zhang Shun’s shabby cotton-padded jacket compared to before. From time to time, some of the cotton filling would come out, along with seeping traces of blood. His body, which was normally as strong as an ox, was battered and exhausted. He was teetering and tottering unsteadily on his feet as he walked through the provincial capital.

As he looked at the tall houses lining both sides of the main street, Zhang Shun could hardly hide the envy in his eyes. The people that lived in the provincial capital were almost all scholars or from rich families. Not only did they not have to do any manual labor, but they were also showered in the respect of any onlookers, which was something that he had never had the pleasure of experiencing.

Zhang Shun rubbed the few loose pieces of silver he had in his pocket, thinking of his wife and child that was still at home waiting for him. His steps seemed to lighten a bit, and a hint of a seldom-seen smile appeared on his young but weather-beaten face.

He walked out from the provincial capital, dragging his weary body down the public road. After a few dozen li, he finally spotted the Zhang family village off in the distance. Zhang Shun hadn’t slept a wink for over 3 days by this point, and all he had to eat or drink was a bit of the watery gruel provided by the provincial government. His swaying, sleep-deprived body threatened to fall to the ground at any moment, where a deep slumber would await him.

He pinched himself hard on the arm to keep his wits about him, then resumed his steps towards the Zhang family village.

Several days ago, the Anxi provincial capital issued a labor draft to all the surrounding villages under their jurisdiction, initiating the construction of a welcoming platform. The Zhang family village sent out 5 young able-bodied workers, including him. After the others had received their pay, they hadn’t gone to a restaurant to eat to their hearts’ content—instead, they went to a brothel in the provincial capital to let loose. Only Zhang Shun, completely tired and spent, wanted to return home as soon as possible to see his wife and son that were waiting patiently for him.

Zhang Shun patted the pieces of loose silver in his pocket once more, feeling reassured by their presence. He pushed open the wooden gate to the small courtyard, but noticed that it was unusually quiet.

“Xiuxiu?” Zhang Shun called out, worry bleeding into his tone.

No response came back.

His mother died when he was still a child, and his old man couldn’t stand the hard labor tending the Golden Feather Fields demanded. He died last year, and Xiuxiu was just a frail woman. His mother and father both died young, so where would she take Zhang Xiaoniu, their son who wasn’t even 1 year old yet?

“Xiuxiu?”

Zhang Shun looked high and low throughout the simple wooden 3-room house, but he didn’t find anyone. His voice couldn’t help but begin to tremble.

As he stood there racking his brains over where she could be, a loud sound from outside the courtyard suddenly interrupted his thoughts. Zhang Shun’s eyes gradually returned to focus, and he watched as several slave martial artists dressed in short jackets charged into the courtyard.

A sturdily built slave was in the lead. When he caught sight of the shoddily dressed Zhang Shun, an ominous glint appeared in his eyes. He leapt forward towards him with a fierce flying kick.

Zhang Shun hadn’t slept for 3 days already, and he was overtaxed. Against an opponent like this slave martial artist, he couldn’t put up the slightest resistance. The flying kick slammed into his chest with powerful momentum, directly breaking several of his ribs. He flew back several meters, spraying out a large mouthful of blood and minced viscera. Lying there on his back, he gasped and wheezed for breath.