Chapter Fifty-One: Entering the Village, One Always Encounters the Elderly Man Carrying Manure

The waiter placed the food on the table and returned to the kitchen. Luo Changning and his companions ate in silence, their speed astonishing, paying no heed at all to manners or appearances. They didn’t sip their porridge slowly with white porcelain spoons as usual, but instead lifted their bowls and gulped it down, taking bites of steamed buns with their free hands. This breakfast was tasteless, consumed only to fill their stomachs.

The others from the clinic came along merely to help gather information; Luo Changning never expected them to negotiate with the bandits in the mountains. He wasn’t displeased that some were still asleep—he had no energy to care about anyone else. His entire focus was on searching for Su Meng.

Since they couldn’t be sure Su Meng had been taken by the bandits of Tianmen Mountain, they couldn’t rashly demand her return. If she wasn’t there, it would only make matters worse. Making enemies of the bandits was a small issue; delaying the search for her was far more serious. Given the circumstances, Su Meng would be safest if she was with the bandits. Otherwise, there was no telling where to look.

After all, Su Meng didn’t know many people in Qingyang County. Apart from her beauty, there was little reason for anyone to abduct her. If she had been taken to that filthy place, it would be disastrous. Those people cared nothing for the status of the girls brought to them, nor for the trouble they might cause.

Girls with less attractive faces were immediately forced to entertain guests for money, and might first be abused by the brothel keepers. Those with good looks would be trained, and once properly broken in, their virginity would be auctioned off publicly.

The madams who managed these places never considered their charges as human. They wouldn’t beat them—scars lowered their value and sale price—but that did not mean their methods of torment were any less cruel.

Luo Changning didn’t know the details, but he understood well enough: once a girl fell into that hell, even if she hadn’t yet served customers, she would suffer inhuman treatment, her dignity destroyed. Especially for those with strong personalities, many would rather die than be humiliated.

So, Luo Changning earnestly hoped Su Meng was in the hands of the mountain bandits; at least until the day after tomorrow, she would be safe. He wasn’t afraid of those bandits. Even if Su Meng came to no real harm, he would not let them escape retribution.

No one would ever again hurt those he cared about. He would never again be that crippled, useless “007” from his past life, only learning after the girl who gave him warmth died, what unspeakable torment she had endured.

His closed eyes snapped open, a cold glint flashing and vanishing like a blade.

After breakfast, Luo Changning walked to the counter and threw a heavy string of copper coins onto it, startling the clerk who had been dozing with his head on the desk.

The clerk, Hou, sat up at once, smiling broadly. “Sir, are you here for a meal or a room? Don’t let our humble inn fool you—”

“Stop!” Luo Changning cut him off, even though Hou had slipped smoothly into his work routine despite just waking.

“I’m here to settle the bill. The extra coins are your tip. When the others who are staying with us wake up, please let them know to continue asking around for news.”

“Yes, sir, don’t worry, I’ll make sure to tell them,” Hou agreed readily.

He counted the coins and found thirty-six left over, and happily pocketed them. It wasn’t much, but enough to buy two pounds of meat. After all, it was just a matter of passing along a few words, hardly any trouble at all.

—

Leaving the inn, the group had no intention of lingering in Ding’s Hamlet and instead headed for a small village at the foot of Tianmen Mountain. It was closer to the bandits’ hideout and likely to yield more information.

This was no populous village like the one Luo Changning had visited to buy free-range chickens. Being at the foot of the bandit mountain, it was more cautious. The entire village had fewer than thirty households, scattered here and there, but each family often had a dozen or more members, so the population was still considerable.

As they entered the village, they saw an old man walking slowly along the rice fields, a stalk of wild grass between his lips, leading a donkey. The cart carried several manure buckets, all well-fermented. The scent mingled with the fresh earth, grass, and flowers, not unpleasant.

This old man was clearly a manure collector. Ma Xue’e wrinkled her nose but showed no sign of disgust, and Qing Gu was entirely unperturbed.

After all, women were more delicate than men, supposedly “made of water”—especially beauties, who couldn’t stand filth. If it were young ladies from well-off families, the servants would have chased the old man away.

Luo Changning thought, “The ancients didn’t deceive me: whenever you enter a village, you’re bound to encounter a manure collector!”

Autumn is the busiest season for villages; unlike elsewhere, no one lingered in bed. Here, from the elderly to the youngest, everyone was up early, busy with their tasks—cooking, washing, feeding chickens, ducks, and pigs, preparing farm tools, and heading out to work. The whole place bustled with activity.

The old man had risen before dawn, going from house to house collecting manure from people and livestock. Now, he was taking it to sell to the landowner.

With more fields, the landowner needed more fertilizer than his own household could supply, so he had to buy.

Even in Luo Changning’s previous life on the Earth Dragon Continent, despite the invention of chemical fertilizers, most farmers still collected their own manure, fermenting it to nourish their crops.

“Sir, may I trouble you with a question?” Luo Changning stepped forward and asked politely.

The old man glanced at them, chewing the grass in his mouth.

After a long pause, he spat it out and smacked his lips. “Don’t shorten my life, young master and ladies. I’m just a wretch, unworthy of such respectful address.”

Ma Xue’e widened her almond eyes and smiled. “You are indeed worthy, sir. I have a question for you.”

The old man laughed heartily. “I bet you’re here to ask about Tianmen Mountain.”

Luo Changning’s gaze sharpened. “That’s right. Did you see a young woman taken up the mountain yesterday?”

—

The old man’s expression showed he had expected this.

“Of course I saw it. Yesterday afternoon, I was out in the fields collecting cow dung and happened to see a few Tianmen Mountain thugs driving a donkey cart up the mountain. The cart was covered with rice straw. I kept a sharp eye out and looked closely; sure enough, I spotted half of an embroidered shoe peeking out from the straw.”

“Ah, that shoe—only the young ladies of wealthy families could wear such things. Unlike us, who can only make do with straw sandals!” His voice held admiration, as if savoring the memory of that exquisite shoe.

“And I also saw a corner of a lake-green garment. I’ve lived at the foot of Tianmen Mountain since birth and seen plenty of such dirty dealings. The clothes on the girl they took were clearly fine quality, so I knew someone would come looking today!” The old man’s face was smug.

Qing Gu, hearing the first part, was already certain it was her young mistress. Now, after hearing about the lake-green dress, she exclaimed, “My mistress wore a lake-green skirt yesterday!”

Su Meng loved green or purple garments—her preference, and it suited her age and gentle temperament, graceful yet alluring. Both colors were difficult to wear well: stunning if right, ghastly if wrong. On Su Meng, both enhanced her fair, flawless skin, bright and clear.

Such a beauty—who could resist?

“Thank you, sir!” Luo Changning pulled a gold ingot from his breast and handed it to the old man.

It may have been the first time the old man had ever seen gold. He stood there, dumbfounded, staring at it. When he came to his senses, the handsome group had already vanished.

He looked furtively around as if he’d stolen something, seeing no one, and hurriedly tucked the gold into his pocket.

His face blossomed into a grin, as cheerful as a chrysanthemum. “I found treasure in the dung heap—fortune is on my side!”

He muttered to himself, “I wonder which wealthy family’s young lady is worth twenty taels of gold! In the past, those searching for someone only gave me ten taels of silver at most. Truly, people’s fates are different—even under the same umbrella, the handles are not the same…”

Shaking his head, he lost all interest in delivering the manure, quickly leading the donkey cart home to hide his gold. He no longer looked like a man with one foot in the grave.