Chapter 887
It's freezing outside!
Aunt Wang stood there, watching his figure disappear around the street corner, before letting out a heavy sigh and murmuring:
"The gentleman has lost weight... we need to fry more for him."
The streets gradually became lively.
Grandpa Liu, who sells candied hawthorns, was pushing his wheelbarrow past when he saw Zheng Yi. His wheelbarrow nearly tipped over. He quickly steadied himself and grinned, revealing his missing two front teeth:
"Sir! Oh, you've finally come out! My granddaughter said the day before yesterday that she dreamed you were standing on the city wall with a sword, splitting the dark clouds in the sky!"
Zheng Yi stopped and looked at the little girl, about five or six years old, behind the car.
The little girl, with two pigtails, was holding a small chick made of cattail fluff and staring at him with wide eyes. Seeing Zheng Yi looking over, she suddenly tucked the chick into her arms and spoke in her childish voice:
"Uncle...did you beat the bad guys?"
Zheng Yi squatted down to be at eye level with her.
"Yes, we won."
The little girl's eyes lit up, and she stuffed the speckled chicken from her bosom into Zheng Yi's hand:
"Here, take this! My mom says chickens lay eggs, and laying eggs means you can have enough to eat... Uncle, you need to eat your fill too, so you can fight more bad guys!"
Zheng Yi took the crooked reed stalk, gently pinched it with his fingertips. The reed stalk was not tied very sturdily, but it was tied very carefully.
He looked up at Grandpa Liu:
"Sir, how much is this chicken...?"
Grandpa Liu waved his hand: "Sir, you're joking! My granddaughter gave it to you, how could I accept money?"
Zheng Yi shook his head seriously, took out a small piece of silver from his sleeve, and stuffed it into the little girl's hand:
"Take it."
"Next time I weave chickens, I'll weave two, one for Dad and one for Mom."
The little girl held the loose silver coins in her hand, her eyes curving into crescent moons:
"it is good!"
Zheng Yi got up and continued forward.
Behind them, Grandpa Liu's voice caught up:
"Take care, sir! I'll prepare extra candied hawthorns tomorrow, and save the biggest ones for you!"
Halfway down the main street, Zheng Yi turned into a narrow alley.
The alley was much narrower than the main street, with low mud-brick houses on both sides, their walls overgrown with foxtail grass, and strings of dried red peppers and corncobs hanging under the eaves. At the alley entrance, a little girl of about seven or eight years old was squatting on the ground setting up a stall.
The stall was actually just a broken door panel, on which were placed a dozen or so small clay figures. Some were holding swords, some were carrying bows, some were riding horses, and one was particularly large with a crooked paper crown on its head, which was obviously the "master" in her mind.
The little girl was wearing a patched-up cotton-padded jacket, her face red from the cold, but her fingers were very nimble as she was making boots for a clay figure.
Zheng Yi stopped in front of the stall.
The little girl looked up, saw the person who came, was startled at first, and then her eyes widened.
"……gentlemen?!"
She slammed the clay figure down, stood up, and hurriedly brushed the mud off her hands, her voice thin and urgent:
"Sir, what...how did you get here? I...I only have mud stuff here, it's worthless..."
Zheng Yi squatted down, his gaze falling on the clay figure with the paper crown on its head.
The clay figure has sword-like eyebrows and bright eyes, with a small wooden stick hanging at its waist as a sword, and a small "鸿" character dotted on its chest with red clay.
He reached out and gently picked up the clay figure.
The clay figure was crudely made; the eyebrows were two crooked strips of clay, and the eyes were made by pressing black beans on. One of them had fallen off, leaving a small black hole.
But that wooden stick sword was carved with great care, and fine blood grooves were even drawn on both sides of the blade with fingernails.
Zheng Yi's voice was very soft:
"Did you make this?"
The little girl's face turned as red as a boiled shrimp, and she twisted the hem of her clothes with both hands.
"Hmm... I heard from the neighbors that you defeated the Li family patriarch with a sword... so I wanted to make one... but it's not very good... please don't laugh at me, sir..."
Zheng Yi didn't laugh.
He placed the clay figure back on the door panel and gently touched the red clay character "鸿" with his fingertips.
"No jokes."
"You sculpted it very well."
The little girl's eyes lit up immediately:
"real?!"
Zheng Yi nodded, took out a small silver ingot from his sleeve, and placed it on the door panel.
The little girl quickly waved her hand:
"Sir, you don't need the money! I... I'm giving it to you for free!"
Zheng Yi did not withdraw his hand.
He looked at the little girl's fingers, which were purple from the cold, and then at the tattered cotton shoes on her feet that exposed her toes.
The sound was kept very soft:
"Take it."
"Go buy a new pair of shoes."
"Buy some more charcoal."
"It's getting cold, don't get cold."
The little girl froze, tears streaming down her face.
She didn't take the money; instead, she took a step forward, her voice trembling with tears:
“Sir…I’m not cold…My mother said you’ve been standing on the city wall for days, the wind was sharper than a knife, and you didn’t complain of being cold…How could I be more delicate than you…”
Zheng Yi remained silent.
He suddenly reached out, took off his outer robe, and draped it over the little girl's shoulders.
The robe was too big, dragging on the ground like a black cloak.
The little girl froze, then looked up at him.
Zheng Yi's voice was very low:
"Wearing it."
"You can pay me back when you grow up and can earn your own money."
The little girl clutched the hem of her robe tightly, tears streaming down her face, but she nodded vigorously:
"I...I will definitely pay it back!"
Zheng Yi got up and continued walking forward.
Behind him, the little girl stood still, clutching her robe.
The wind blows through the narrow alley.
The hem of the robe was blown up by the wind, like a small flag.
Zheng Yi walked out of the alley and turned back onto the main street.
There are already more people on the streets.
Vegetable vendors, water carriers, cart pushers, donkey drivers... all stopped what they were doing when they saw him.
Someone shouted:
Good morning, sir!
"Hello, sir!"
"Sir, you look much better today!"
Zheng Yi returned the greetings one by one.
He walked slowly, but steadily.
Stop every now and then to listen to the vendors chat about everyday life.
Old Zhang, the tofu pudding vendor, said that soybean prices have gone up recently, but business is good and he can afford to pay for his grandson's tuition.
Sister Li, who sells cloth, said that the newly opened dye house in the city uses new pigments from upstream, which are colorfast and cannot be washed off, and she wants to stock up on more.
The old shoemaker said that business has been booming lately, with all the boots that were damaged during the battles on the city walls being sent to him. He can't keep up with the demand even if he stays up all night.
Zheng Yi listened very attentively.
Occasionally nodding, occasionally asking a question:
How much will the price increase be?
Are the new paints expensive?
Are boots easy to mend?
The vendors' eyes lit up when they answered.
They weren't talking to a high and mighty monk.
They were talking to someone who... understood their suffering and was willing to listen to their suffering.
By the time we reached the vegetable market in the west of the city, it was already broad daylight.
The market was bustling with noise, and the sounds of chickens, ducks, and geese filled the air.
Zheng Yi stopped in front of the fish stall.
The stall owner was a man in his forties, with tanned skin and arms covered in fish scales. When he saw Zheng Yi, he paused for a moment, then grinned.
"Sir! You're here to buy fish? These crucian carp were just caught from the Blackwater River this morning, they're still lively and jumping around!"
Zheng Yi looked at the wooden basin.
A dozen or so crucian carp huddled together in the basin, their scales shimmering silver in the sunlight.
He suddenly asked:
"Is it easy to catch fish lately?"
The stall owner was taken aback, then gave a wry smile:
"They're not easy to catch. During the fighting, the river was full of blood, and the fish were all scared away. They've only come back a few times in the last couple of days, but they're small... If you want to eat a bigger one, sir, I'll go upstream again tomorrow and try again."
Zheng Yi was silent for a moment. "Don't go upstream."
"The upstream area... has been quite turbulent lately."
The stall owner scratched his head:
“I know…the whole neighborhood has heard about the Li family. If you say you’re not going, then I won’t go.”
Zheng Yi took a small piece of silver from his sleeve and placed it on the stall:
"Give me two small ones."
The stall owner quickly waved his hand:
"Sir, you're joking! I'll see you off!"
Zheng Yi shook his head:
"Take it."
"That's the rule."
The stall owner hesitated for a moment, then finally accepted the money, picked out the two fattest crucian carp, threaded their gills with straw rope, and handed them to Zheng Yi.
Zheng Yi took it and held it in his hand.
The fish was still flicking its tail, splashing water all over his hand.
He didn't pay attention.
He simply carried the two fish and continued walking.
Behind him, the stall owner suddenly shouted:
"gentlemen!"
Zheng Yi turned around.
The stall owner grinned, revealing a missing front tooth:
"My wife said that once you're better, she'd like to treat you to fish soup! I'll make it myself! With ginger slices, chopped green onions, and a little pepper... I guarantee it'll be delicious!"
Zheng Yi looked at him.
a long time.
He nodded.
"it is good."
"I'll wait."
The stall owner smiled even more broadly.
Zheng Yi turned and left.
The two fish were still wagging their tails in his hand.
Water droplets dripped down the straw rope.
It dripped onto the bluestone slab.
It splashed up tiny water droplets.
The sunlight shone down.
The water splashes refracted a rainbow of colors.
Zheng Yi carried the fish and slowly walked back.
The streets are getting more and more crowded.
Everyone who sees him stops.
Someone called out "Good morning."
Someone greeted me.
Someone stuffed a freshly steamed bun into his hand.
Someone pushed their child in front of him and said, "Quick, call him sir."
The child called out in a childish voice:
Good morning, sir!
Zheng Yi responded to each point.
The voice was not loud.
Yet it is extremely stable.
He walked very slowly.
But they walked the entire main street.
We passed through the West Market.
We passed through the East Market.
We walked past the base of the city wall.
Finally, he returned to the side gate of the city lord's mansion.
The two fish are still in my hand.
It hardly moves anymore.
He glanced down at it.
Hand the fish to the young gatekeeper:
"Take this and use it to make soup."
The young man took it, his eyes reddening.
"gentlemen……"
Zheng Yi waved his hand.
He turned and went inside.
Behind him, the young man suddenly shouted:
"gentlemen!"
Zheng Yi stopped.
The young man's voice trembled:
"We...we're all waiting for you to get better..."
Zheng Yi did not turn around.
He simply raised his hand and waved it gently behind him.
"Ah."
"I know."
The first snow of winter in Hongyun City arrived without warning. Last night, only the cold wind carrying fine ice chips pattered against the roof tiles, making a crisp "pat-pat" sound. A night later, just as dawn broke, a thin layer of white had already accumulated on the crenellations of the city walls. The snowflakes were small, but dense; they didn't melt immediately upon landing on the bluestone slabs, instead carpeting the entire main street like a cold, gleaming gray-white ribbon. The charcoal fires at the breakfast stalls along the street burned even brighter, the heat causing the snowflakes to evaporate into white mist in the air. The aroma of tofu pudding and the wheat scent of fried dough sticks mingled together, permeating every courtyard whose wooden doors had just been opened.
Zheng Yi stood by the window of the highest side room in the city lord's mansion, his left hand holding the window frame, his right hand still clutching the dossier he hadn't finished writing yesterday. The window paper was slightly billowing from last night's cold wind, and his breath condensed into a thin layer of frost on the glass. By gently smoothing a crack with his fingertips, he could see the figures gradually increasing in the streets and alleys outside—women carrying empty baskets to the market, fathers leading their children to school, and elderly people leaning on canes, shakily making their way to the breakfast stalls.
He looked at it very intently, as if he were counting heads, or as if he were counting what the city was missing.
Footsteps sounded behind him, and Guo Tianyou pushed open the door and entered. Snowflakes clung to his shoulders and hair, and an oilcloth raincoat, dripping wet, was draped over his armor. He clasped his hands in a fist salute, his voice carrying the chill of the outside world:
"Sir, Aunt Wang from the west side of the city sent over two jin of freshly fried dough sticks this morning, saying they were to warm your stomach. I've kept them warm in the kitchen."
Zheng Yi hummed in agreement, without turning around:
"Did the water in the low-lying areas of that narrow alley in the east of the city freeze over after the heavy snow last night?"
Guo Tianyou was taken aback for a moment, then replied, "It's settled. I took some people to spread ashes in the furnace before dawn, and also nailed two wooden signs at the entrance of the alley that read 'Slippery road, drive slowly'."
Zheng Yi then turned around, his gaze falling on Guo Tianyou's boots, which were soaked with snow water:
"Change your boots if they get wet. Frostbite on your feet will make fighting in winter even more difficult."
Guo Tianyou scratched his head and chuckled, "Sir, you still care about this... My feet have cracked from the cold several times, I'm used to it."
Zheng Yi didn't respond to that, but simply handed over the case file in his hand:
"I revised the third draft last night. Take it and let Zhao Sanhuai, Guo Shouzhen, and Kulian Zhenren all take a look. We will have a meeting in the main hall at noon today."
Guo Tianyou took the file and glanced down at the four characters on the cover: "New Laws of Great Fortune".
His Adam's apple bobbed, but without opening the book, he solemnly clasped his hands in a fist salute:
"Yes."
Zheng Yi waved his hand: "Go ahead. On your way, bring Aunt Wang's fried dough sticks over; I'm hungry."
Guo Tianyou acknowledged and withdrew.
The room fell silent again, with only the soft sound of snowflakes falling on the tiles outside the window.
Zheng Yi sat back down at the table, pushed the inkstone closer, and added a final note to the end of the file:
"Any cultivator who injures a mortal's limbs with magic, whether intentionally or unintentionally, shall have their arm severed; if they cause death, their dantian shall be destroyed and they shall be exiled to the wasteland upstream of the Blackwater River, never to set foot in Hongyun City again."
The pen tip hovered over the paper for a moment before finally landing a smooth period.
He let out a long breath, closed the file, and placed it under the copper paperweight.
A line of small characters, written by his own hand, is engraved on the copper paperweight:
"Cultivators are the city's blades, mortals are its bones. Blades can be sharp, but they cannot wound bones."
Noon.
The main hall of the city lord's mansion.
The charcoal brazier burned brightly, flames licking its rim and casting a warm red glow on the twelve vermilion pillars. On the long table in the center of the hall lay the copy of "The New Laws of Good Fortune," and in front of it stood twelve grand chairs, their backs carved with simple cloud patterns, polished to a gleaming shine. Behind the table was Zheng Yi's usual pearwood chair, its cushions newly replaced with thick cotton, and a wool blanket draped over its back.
As the door opened, a gust of cold wind mixed with snow rushed in, and the flames in the charcoal brazier flickered violently.
The first to enter was Zhao Sanhuai. His broken leg could barely support his weight, but he still walked with a limp. He carried a bronze hand warmer, its lid still steaming, and shouted as soon as he entered:
"Sir! It's freezing outside! I brought you a stove to warm your hands!"
Zheng Yi looked up and saw his nose, red from the cold, and a slight smile on his lips:
"Put it on the table. Your leg injury hasn't healed yet, so don't stand there."
Zhao Sanhuai chuckled, placed the hand warmer on the corner of the table, and plopped down on the chair closest to the charcoal brazier, stretching out his frozen hands to warm them over the fire.
Next to enter were the brothers Guo Shouzhen and Guo Xiong. Both had mostly white hair and beards, yet their backs were ramrod straight. Guo Shouzhen carried a lacquered box; the lid was slightly ajar, revealing a dozen or so neatly stacked copies of legal texts inside. (End of Chapter)