“I’m sure they did.” Wu Ying glanced around slightly, curious where the listeners were.
Zhong Shei followed Wu Ying’s eyes and tilted his head toward a small hole that could barely be seen in the mud wall. “I did ask them about the bounties and the rest of the bandits’ belongings, but I never got an answer.”
“Oh? I’m sure they’ll get around to getting the bounty. Don’t they have to report it to the appropriate authority first?” Wu Ying said. Not as if he had any clue how bounties actually worked.
“Yes. I’m sure they will.” Zhong Shei’s voice took on a tone of mock sadness. “I have a feeling that the bandits probably spent all their coin though. I doubt they had a tael between them all. Probably why Ji Ang had nothing either.”
“Really?” When he met the nobleman’s son’s knowing gaze, he sighed and added, a little louder and more theatrically than needed, “Yes, I’m sure you’re right.”
Zhong Shei covered his mouth, stifling a snort of laughter. After a time, he continued, his voice straining to keep serious. “And I bet the weapons we found aren’t very good quality. Really, what are we going to do with a bunch of rusty swords? It would be better if they just took them and gave us the value for them, rather than make us carry that trash around.”
“Trash. Right,” Wu Ying said, trying not to wince too much.
He knew what Zhong Shei was doing now. Bribes were a fact of life, and by refusing the true value of the weapons, they’d grease the wheels for their exit. Still, he hated the idea of giving up all that money. But Wu Ying was also clear how precarious their position was. While rumors would have spread by now about the pair of cultivators who had fought and killed the infamous Ji Ang, the pair might still “disappear” or “succumb to their injuries” before they were released, allowing the guards to take their goods and the bandits. It was not as though either of them had their powerful patrons present. Better to give a little and appease the guards’ greed than be too greedy themselves and disappear.
“That’s good. I’m going to cultivate now. Let me know when dinner is here,” Zhong Shei finally said, closing his eyes and taking the lotus position.
Wu Ying watched him sit down and, to his surprise, actually cultivate. After a moment, Wu Ying shook his head. Why was he surprised? The man was injured. Cultivating would allow him to speed up his healing.
And perhaps being in the best shape possible was important. After all, they had yet to meet or deal with the bandit’s backers. Though Wu Ying would be surprised if they made their move. While they might be unhappy that their cash cow had disappeared, acting against the pair wouldn’t change that fact. But corrupt officials were not necessarily known for their humble nature and logical reasoning.
After a moment, Wu Ying set a chair in the middle of the doorway before moving over to a corner of the room to cultivate. All he could do was get ready and wait.
“Told you it would be fine,” Zhong Shei said with a smirk the next morning as they walked out of the guard station.
Their promised bounties would make their way to Zhong Shei’s residence, where half would, eventually, be transferred to Wu Ying—once everything had been confirmed. After their battle, Wu Ying found himself trusting the guard. A man who would shout “Justice will prevail” unabashedly in a fight would be unlikely to stoop to stealing his reward.
And if he did… well, Wu Ying shrugged. That money had only been earned because Zhong Shei had dragged him down that alleyway. By himself, Wu Ying would have turned around and enjoyed a nice, quiet lunch once he had confirmed his initial suspicion.
“You did no such thing,” Wu Ying said as he squinted in the mid-day light. “Now, how are we going to head downriver?”
“Leave that to me!” a chubby merchant cried. Walking forward, he grabbed and shook their hands enthusiastically. “Tang Kei Chan. I am a friend of your father, Zhong Shei, and I would be happy to host you on my boat.”
“I—” Wu Ying started to stall the man.
“For free,” Kei Chan said as he looked at Wu Ying. “It’s the least I can do for the heroes who took down Ji Ang. The bastard already burned one of my ships and slaughtered the crew on another.”
“Ships…” Wu Ying fell silent while Zhong Shei stepped forward and bowed to Kei Chan.
“Oh, I remember now! It’s Uncle Tang. You always brought those red sweets with you when you visited Father during New Year,” Zhong Shei said, smiling. “We would be in your debt.”
“No, no, no, we are in your debt. Come. I have prepared a feast first. Many want to thank the heroes of the hour. And then we will take you down,” Kei Chan said as he brought the pair to the waiting rickshaw.
Once again, the pair glanced at one another before they climbed in, giving in to the inevitable. It would be a huge loss of face for Kei Chan if they turned him down, especially as he seemed to have organized all this on his own. And while Wu Ying was willing to do that to an enemy, doing that to someone Zhong Shei knew and had good relations with was just wrong.
Hour later, Wu Ying stood on the prow of the boat as it pulled out from the port. It had only taken them all of the morning—including multiple drinks and dishes—before the pair could extricate themselves from the banquet thrown in their honor. Wu Ying absently touched his hand, looking at the biggest surprise of the day—a jade band that hid its true worth behind its simplicity. His first storage ring. The ring could only store about a small chest’s worth of items, but it was still a priceless artifact. Or well, not priceless. Just very expensive.
Once more, Wu Ying cast his mind into the storage ring. It took a little effort, a little chi, but as he had spilt his blood onto it and sealed the ring to himself, the ring woke to his request. A constellation of items appeared within his mind, little blobs of energy and matter that Wu Ying intuitively knew to be the items he had stored. He even knew, via that same rough guide, how much more he could store. And what he could not—chief among them, living creatures of any kind.
“Nice view, is it not?” Zhong Shei said as he joined Wu Ying. “Though not as nice as the young ladies at the restaurant.”
“You could have stayed longer,” Wu Ying said.
“And leave you to go alone? What kind of friend would I be then?” Zhong Shei said with a snort.
“Friend?” Wu Ying said, cocking his head to the side as he stared at the guard lieutenant. Zhong Shei looked uncomfortable, and Wu Ying found himself battling off a smile. Eventually he relented and gave a simple nod.
Zhong Shei relaxed, watching the blue-green water flow by before he leaned in and murmured, “So. Do you just not like women?”
“Why’d you ask that?” Wu Ying said, somewhat annoyed. Not that there was anything wrong with a preference for men, but it was not for him[25]. Certainly, certain sects were even known for encouraging that practice among their sect members, to create stronger in-house bonds.
“You didn’t seem particularly interested at the banquet. The women—especially lady Pai—were throwing themselves at you. And there you were, being all quiet.”
“Oh. Oh…” Wu Ying fell silent. Eventually, he looked at Zhong Shei and admitted the truth. “I was uncomfortable and trying not to embarrass myself. And the people they were speaking of—the musical pieces and literary works, I did not know half of them.”
“You don’t? But…” Zhong Shei nodded. “Of course. You didn’t get our education. I bet you hadn’t ever eaten at a restaurant like that either, have you?”
“No.” Wu Ying lips twitched up. “The food was quite good.”
“Quite good? That was the best restaurant in the city.”
“Really?” Wu Ying rubbed his nose, embarrassed. “My mother cooks better.”
“Oh, your mother. Of course she does,” Zhong Shei said with a roll of his eyes. He did not openly contradict Wu Ying though. That would be a huge insult, one strong enough that it would likely shatter their newfound bond. “Well, I have few of those books with me if you’re interested.”