163: caravan

On the seventh day after leaving Jiuqu Prefecture, Chen Linsheng finally spotted a winding, snake-like procession on the northern official road in the distance.

It was the caravan of the "Shunfeng Trading Company," consisting of over twenty camel carts laden with goods, with more than thirty sturdy guards on horseback accompanying them at the front and rear.

In the center of the convoy, a green flag with gold trim, embroidered with the characters for "Shunfeng," flapped loudly in the dry, fierce wind of Mobei.

Chen Linsheng quickened his pace and reached the end of the line half a candle stick's time later.

"Halt!"

Two guards turned their horses around, pointing their spears diagonally with vigilant eyes. Both wore travel-worn leather armor with sabers at their waists, and their temples bulged slightly—clearly experts who had practiced external martial arts.

Chen Linsheng stopped and cupped his hands, saying, "I am Chen Lin, a traveling Martial Artist, heading to the Northern Border. I wonder if I might travel with your caravan? I am willing to pay a fee."

He looked young and spoke calmly. His dark-green martial attire, though faded from washing, was neat and clean. He carried a longbow and a grey cloth bundle on his back, with an ordinary iron sword hanging at his waist, appearing to be just an ordinary traveling Martial Artist.

The older guard on the left sized him up for a few moments before saying deeply, "The road to the Northern Border is dangerous. Are you alone, little brother?"

"Indeed," Chen Linsheng nodded. "I've just left home and wish to see the sights of the borderlands. Traveling together would allow for mutual support."

The guard looked back toward the front of the convoy as if asking for instructions. A moment later, a middle-aged man who looked like a manager rode over. He was about forty years old, with sallow-black skin, a mustache, and shrewd eyes.

He looked Chen Linsheng up and down and said, "Three taels of Silver to accompany us to Blackstone Town. If there is bandit trouble on the way, you must follow the orders of the guard captain and not act on your own. If you agree, go and follow the supply cart at the end of the line."

"Thank you, Manager." Chen Linsheng took out three taels of broken Silver from his robe and handed them over.

The manager's expression softened after taking the Silver. "I am Manager Zhou Fu, the manager of this Shunfeng Trading Company convoy. The one riding at the front is the guard captain, Zhao Iron Eagle. I'll introduce you when we reach the campsite. Remember, ask fewer questions and watch less on the road; don't cause trouble."

"Understood."

Chen Linsheng followed the instructions and walked to the flatbed cart at the end of the line, which was loaded with water skins and dry rations, following behind on foot. The convoy moved at a moderate pace; with his current stamina, keeping up was effortless.

The official road gradually became desolate.

Farmland and villages on both sides grew scarcer, replaced by vast stretches of withered yellow meadows and scattered low shrubs. The sky took on a grey-blue hue unique to the borderlands, polished by wind and sand; the clouds were thin, and the sunlight beat down directly, dry and scorching.

The wind also began to change—losing the moisture of Jiangnan and gaining the coarseness of Gobi dust, stinging slightly against the face.

Every twenty or thirty li along the way, dilapidated beacon towers stood lonely on earthen mounds. The brickwork was severely weathered, some with only half a base remaining, silently telling of the border wars of the past.

As Chen Linsheng followed the convoy, he circulated the Five Viscera Absorbing Essence Art.

Within his heart, liver, spleen, lungs, and kidneys, five vortices rotated slowly, drawing in thin Five Elements essence from the world and converting it into wisps of Origin Qi to nourish his body.

Although not as efficient as meditating, it had the advantage of being continuous, keeping him full of spirit and vigorous in blood and Qi even during the long journey.

He deliberately restrained his aura, suppressing the faint gold Golden Garment Qi membrane on his skin to its lowest level, maintaining only the most basic protection.

Even so, his steady pace and long, deep breaths still caught the attention of some observant people in the convoy.

By afternoon, the convoy stopped to rest behind a leeward low slope.

Several guards were dispatched to watch the surroundings while the others took out dry rations and water, finding places to sit and eat. Chen Linsheng also found a clean rock to sit on and took out the flatbread and dried meat Su Wan had prepared from his bundle.

"Little brother, traveling alone?"

A slightly raspy voice came from nearby.

Chen Linsheng looked up and saw an old man of about fifty years approaching.

The old man wore faded brown short-sleeved martial attire, with a copper-wrapped tobacco pipe hanging at his waist. His face was wrinkled like knife carvings, with a shallow scar on his left cheek, but his eyes were warm and smiling.

"I am. Does the elder need something?" Chen Linsheng stood up and cupped his hands.

The old man waved his hand and sat on a rock beside him. He took down his pipe, lit it, took a deep puff, and exhaled blue smoke. "My surname is Han, given name 'Shi.' I've run escorts on this road for over thirty years. Now that I'm old, I hold an idle post in the Shunfeng Trading Company, mentoring newcomers. Seeing your steady steps and long breath, you must be a practitioner, right?"

"I know a bit of martial arts, just for health," Chen Linsheng said vaguely.

Han Shi chuckled and didn't pry further. Instead, he asked, "Heading to the Northern Border alone—are you looking for relatives? Visiting friends? Or... are you also here for the rumors of that 'Immortal Cave ruins'?"

Chen Linsheng's heart stirred, but his expression remained unchanged. "Immortal Cave ruins?"

"It seems you really don't know," Han Shi tapped out some ash. "About half a month ago, after a Black Sandstorm deep in the Northern Border wilderness, a set of ancient ruins was revealed. It's said to be the Immortal Cave of an ancient Cultivator. Once the news spread, many Jianghu folk, Loose Cultivators, and even some noble families and Schools sent people there to try their luck."

He paused and lowered his voice. "However, I advise you: if you just want to experience the sights, wandering around Blackstone Town or Iron Spine Pass is enough. The location of those ruins is five hundred li deep into the wilderness. Along the way, there are not only sand bandits, wolf packs, and Yao Beasts, but also wandering Barbarian Tribes. Without real skill, going there is just seeking death."

Chen Linsheng nodded. "Thank you for the advice, Elder Han. I am indeed just traveling, going wherever the road takes me."

Seeing that he was receptive to advice, Han Shi's expression became even friendlier as he talked more about the borderlands:

"This Northern Border is very different from the Central Plains. The hardest currency here isn't Silver; it's 'Military Merit'."

"Military Merit?" Chen Linsheng showed a curious expression at the right moment.

"Yes," Han Shi pointed toward the northwest. "Another four hundred li north is 'Iron Spine Pass,' the premier stronghold of the Northern Border guarded by the Army Breaker Manor. Beyond the pass is the true wilderness—Barbarian Tribes, Yao Beast dens, and ancient ruins. Danger is everywhere, but so are countless opportunities."

"The Army Breaker Manor is constantly at war with barbarians and Yao Beasts, so they established a 'Military Merit System.' Whether it's slaying barbarian warriors, hunting Yao Beasts, scouting dangerous areas, or completing various tasks issued by the Army Breaker Manor, all can be converted into Military Merit based on difficulty. Military Merit can be exchanged at the Army Breaker Manor for Cultivation Techniques, weapons, Medicinal Pills, and even the qualification to enter certain Secret Realms to Cultivate."

He sighed. "So, nine out of ten Martial Artists in the Northern Border want to accumulate Military Merit. But this merit... it's not easy to earn. Every year, the number of Martial Artists who die outside the pass is at least eight hundred to a thousand."

As the two were talking, a sharp whistle suddenly came from ahead!