One Hundred and Eight: A Change of Heart

After saying all that, Zhang Xuan fell silent and began weighing the feasibility of his idea, for he was not entirely sure of it himself. Back then, when he had been scrambling to pay off debts, he had taken on jobs playing all sorts of browser games—recruiting population, planting fields, chopping trees, and the like. Those had required nothing more than a few clicks of the mouse, utterly devoid of challenge, never asking him to use his brain. But what he was planning now was far from something that could be solved with a few casual clicks.

“Elder Tong, the place we’re going to—does the local government have any authority there? Taxes and the like? Or do they send people around from time to time to harass you? Or do we have to pay protection money to someone? Or...”

“Or your head,” Elder Tong snapped. “Where are you getting so many ‘ors’? Let me tell you plainly: the place we’re going is hidden in a mountain ravine. If you want to buy anything, you have to travel a very long way. Without three to five days on the road, you won’t even see another soul. So while you can still enjoy a lively market, take a few extra looks. For quite some time afterward, you won’t be seeing anything like it. As for the government officials you mentioned—no. It’s a poor, desolate place in the mountains. There’s no profit to be squeezed from it. Why would any official have the leisure to go poking around somewhere so barren there isn’t even a drop of grease to skim?”

He truly could not bear listening any longer. He had told Zhang Xuan to think of a solution, not bombard him with a string of absurd questions.

After hearing Elder Tong’s explanation, Zhang Xuan and the others were stunned. Was the place really that remote? A journey of three to five days without seeing a trace of human habitation?

Seeing their astonished expressions, Elder Tong looked highly satisfied. “It’s not quite that exaggerated. But remote it certainly is—so remote that many people don’t even know it exists. And even if they do, they still wouldn’t be likely to go.”

“Master, then can you tell me how you live there?” Yang Zaixing asked. Thinking of the place they were headed, he felt an inexplicable unease rising in his heart.

“Didn’t I just say? Self-sufficiency. You grow your own grain, cook your own meals, build your own houses. That place lacks everything, so when we reach the last market later, we’ll need to buy some necessities—seeds and other crops, saws, machetes, and tools like that. As for the rest... you can judge for yourselves what to buy. After all, you’ll be living there for three or four years before I let you come out. Once you do, you may go wherever you please and do whatever you like. I won’t interfere in your lives after you leave the sect.” As he spoke, Elder Tong clapped his hands, as though administering a warning in advance to the whole group. “Any other questions? If so, ask them all now.”

Zhang Xuan and the others all shook their heads, indicating that they more or less understood the kind of life awaiting them and had already begun the most important task of all—preparing themselves mentally.

“Elder Tong, if life there is really as you described, then I think we could take quite a lot of people with us. Once we arrive, everyone will have to fend for themselves anyway, doing all sorts of work by hand. The biggest problems are simply food on the road and food enough to get settled before the autumn harvest. Is that a fair way to understand it?” Zhang Xuan asked after listening carefully.

Elder Tong folded his arms across his chest and thought for a moment. “That does seem to be the case. We can purchase some grain, yes, but nowhere near enough to last until autumn harvest. And I don’t know how much surplus grain remains at the sect either. I haven’t been back in several years. There may still be a few of my fellow disciples living there, but I can’t say for certain.”

“Then we’ll have to adjust our thinking. On the road, I’ll trouble you and Uncle Yang to keep an eye out for anyone suited to martial training—whether they’re quick-witted or not, we can’t tell much at a glance. But if you think someone has potential, and if they’re willing to come, then we bring them along. As for anything else, we won’t consider it this time...”

“This time we won’t consider it?” Yang Zaixing corrected him. “So that means there’ll be a next time? Little Xuan, once you’re in there, you won’t be coming out for at least a year or two.”

“Yes—why shouldn’t there be a next time? We can stay inside in peace and come out only after we’ve mastered what we need to learn. But Uncle Yang doesn’t need to remain there day and night, does he? Don’t you agree, Uncle Yang?” Zhang Xuan looked at him with a thoroughly crafty gleam in his eyes.

Uncle Yang shuddered all over under that gaze.

“Uncle Yang, when the time comes, I’ll have to trouble you to go outside every so often—gather news, find out what’s been happening, and then come back and tell us. Otherwise, if we emerge after three or five years, we might not even know who sits on the throne, and that would be a disgrace. And while you’re out gathering information, you can also keep an eye out for promising seedlings and bring them back—provided they come willingly, of course. I’ll train them when they arrive. Those people could prove immensely useful in the future. Doesn’t that make sense? Then let’s settle it this way for now. I’ll leave this matter in your hands.”

When Zhang Xuan finished speaking, Elder Tong and Uncle Yang exchanged a glance. In each other’s eyes, they saw the same admiration for him. Plainly, they could more or less guess the purpose behind what Zhang Xuan was trying to do.