45: Chapter 45: Settling in Xiangyang, Guo Jing Gifts a Luxury Mansion

Yang Yuan led his family through the gates of Xiangyang.

The city walls were higher than Yang Yuan had imagined.

A long queue snaked at the city gate, consisting of merchants, refugees, and patrolling soldiers.

The guards checked travel permits one by one, inspecting them with great care.

Yang Yuan walked at the front, carrying Xue Jian.

Cheng Ying followed behind him, while Lu Wushuang brought up the rear, her hand gripping her blade.

Once inside, a wide street stretched straight ahead.

Both sides were lined with shops—selling cloth, medicine, and steamed buns.

The cries of peddlers rose and fell in an endless chorus.

Xue Jian lay on the shoulder of Yang Yuan, her eyes wide and round.

Just as Yang Yuan was about to ask someone for directions, a man in a green robe suddenly emerged from the crowd and cupped his hands in greeting: "Young Hero Yang, Hero Guo is waiting for you at his estate."

Yang Yuan was taken aback for a moment.

"Who are you?"

"I am a Disciple of the Beggar Sect.

Elder Lu instructed that if I saw someone carrying the bamboo token, I should lead them directly to the estate of Hero Guo."

Yang Yuan fished the bamboo token from his waist.

The man took a glance and nodded.

"Follow me."

The man led them across two streets and stopped in front of a large, vermilion gate.

A plaque hung above the lintel—Guo Estate.

The characters were written in a steady, heavy hand; one look and you could tell it was the work of an honest man.

The man pushed the door open and gestured for them to enter.

Yang Yuan took a deep breath and stepped over the threshold.

The courtyard was spacious, paved with blue bricks.

Two rows of weapon racks stood against the walls, filled with swords, spears, and halberds.

A stone path ran through the center, leading straight to the main hall.

A burly man stood at the entrance of the main hall.

With thick brows and large eyes, a square face, and a broad mouth, he wore a grey cloth robe.

When he saw Yang Yuan, he strode forward to greet him.

Once inside the hall, Guo Jing invited them to sit and had tea served.

Cheng Ying sat beside Yang Yuan, holding Xue Jian, while Lu Wushuang stood behind him.

Guo Jing took a look at the belly of Cheng Ying, then glanced at Lu Wushuang, but asked nothing.

He picked up the teacup and took a sip.

Then he spoke: "Lu Youjiao has told me all about your situation."

Yang Yuan nodded.

"I am very glad you are willing to come to Xiangyang," Guo Jing said, putting down the teacup.

"The Mongols are massing their forces outside Xiangyang; a great battle could break out at any moment.

I am short on manpower here, especially for capable fighters like you."

"Hero Guo, you are too kind," Yang Yuan said.

"I am just an ordinary martial artist."

"Ordinary?" Guo Jing waved his hand.

"To be able to escape alive from the Mongols and Li Mochou with your wife and child, and to have studied martial arts under Island Master Huang for a year—that is not something an ordinary person could do."

He paused, then added: "If you stay in Xiangyang, I will ensure the safety of your family."

Yang Yuan opened his mouth, wanting to decline.

But Guo Jing did not give him the chance: "There is a vacant house on the outskirts of the city; take it and live there.

It is a three-courtyard residence with a backyard, plenty of room.

If you need anything, just let me know."

"Hero Guo, this is too generous…"

"Do not talk nonsense.

Just settle in."

Yang Yuan was stunned for a moment.

Then he stood up and cupped his hands to Guo Jing: "Thank you, Hero Guo."

The house was in the east of the city, less than two miles from the Guo Estate.

Yang Yuan pushed open the courtyard gate and walked in.

The courtyard was large, paved with blue bricks, with an old locust tree standing in the center.

Walking through the yard, there were three main rooms, with a row of side rooms on both the east and west sides.

There was also a training ground in the backyard.

It was not large, but it was sufficient.

What surprised him most was that there were several peach trees planted in the yard.

The trunks were as thick as a bowl.

The peach blossoms had already fallen, but the branches were lush, casting a cool shade.

Yang Yuan stood under the peach trees, silent for a few seconds.

He clenched his back teeth—Guo Jing must have had these transplanted.

Cheng Ying walked into the courtyard and, seeing the peach trees, was taken aback.

She then turned her head away.

Lu Wushuang stood behind her, looking at the peach trees.

After a while, she reached out and touched the trunk.

She said nothing.

Yang Yuan moved the luggage into the main rooms and led the horse to the backyard to tie it up.

Xue Jian ran back and forth in the courtyard, chasing a butterfly.

She tripped as she chased it, but when she scrambled up, the butterfly had already flown high away.

She stood on her tiptoes, staring blankly for a long time, then giggled and ran off.

Cheng Ying sat on a stone stool under the locust tree, watching her daughter with a smile on her lips.

Lu Wushuang was tidying up her room in the west wing.

Yang Yuan stood in the middle of the courtyard.

A line of text suddenly appeared in his mind—

[Detected that the host has acquired a permanent residence in Xiangyang.

Quest "Build a New Home" Progress: 50%.

Remaining time to complete: 25 days.]

He silently asked: "What is needed to set up the array?"

The System did not reply.

That evening, Yang Yuan went to the Guo Estate.

Guo Jing was waiting for him in the study.

The two sat facing each other.

An oil lamp was lit on the table.

Outside the window, the footsteps of patrolling soldiers could be heard, along with the sound of bugles from the distant city towers.

Guo Jing poured a cup of tea for Yang Yuan: "Tell me, what did you encounter along the way?"

Yang Yuan did not hold back.

He recounted everything from beginning to end—the Mongol pursuers, the mysterious person from Zhongnan Mountain, Lu Youjiao delivering the letter, and the pursuit by Li Mochou.

After listening, Guo Jing remained silent for a long time.

"The target of the Mongols is Xiangyang," he said.

"They have been probing, waiting for an opportunity."

"What about that person from Zhongnan Mountain?"

Guo Jing picked up the teacup but did not drink.

"That mysterious person from Zhongnan Mountain comes from the lineage of the Ancient Tomb Sect."

The heart of Yang Yuan tightened: "The Ancient Tomb Sect?"

"Yes.

But it is different from the current Ancient Tomb Sect."

Guo Jing put down the teacup, his fingers tracing the rim twice.

"He is a 'Reversed Meridian Cultivator,' practicing a reversed version of the Nine Yin Manual.

His methods are extremely sinister."

He did not continue.

Yang Yuan waited for him to go on.

After a moment of silence, Guo Jing finally spoke: "Have you fought him?"

"Not head-on yet," Yang Yuan said.

"But he has been stalking me."

"Then be careful."

Guo Jing stood up.

"If you need anything, come directly to me."

Yang Yuan nodded.

As night fell, Yang Yuan stood in the courtyard of the new home.

The moon was full.

Moonlight spilled onto the blue bricks of the courtyard, casting a layer of white light.

The shadow of the locust tree swayed on the ground like an ink wash painting.

Cheng Ying walked out of the house and stood beside him.

The two were silent for a while.

Cheng Ying suddenly spoke: "Are we… really staying here?"

Her voice was very soft, carrying a tone of uncertainty.

Yang Yuan took her hand.

"Yes.

We are staying."

Cheng Ying did not answer.

But she gripped his hand back, holding it very tightly.

In the distance, on the towers of Xiangyang, torches burned as bright as day.

The sound of bugles carried over from the city walls, low and lingering.

Footsteps sounded from behind.

Lu Wushuang walked out of the west wing and stood beside them.

She said nothing, just watching the distant city walls with them.

The three of them stood under the moonlight, quiet and still.

The leaves of the locust tree overhead were stirred by the night breeze, making a faint, rustling sound.

It was as if someone were speaking, and yet, perhaps not.