Jiang Zhaoye finished washing up and put on his clothes somewhat clumsily.
He had changed into a spare dark blue Hanfu, its style slightly gentler and more low-key than yesterday's black set.
The inner garment was still white, cut slightly loose with a crisp Sanqing collar that looked neat and scholarly. His body proportions, refined by the Ice Muscle Jade Bone Art, appeared all the more striking; even without any accessories, his ensemble carried a fair bit of dashing elegance.
Stowing away the overly conspicuous longsword, Jiang Zhaoye tucked a short dagger into his waist, put on the straw hat with the veil, pressed down the brim, and only then went downstairs.
Walking into the main hall, he placed the exact amount of broken silver calculated by Xiao Ling onto the counter. Using the local dialect he had practiced targetedly several times in his room, he conversed with the shopkeeper and successfully extended his stay for half a month.
Having just set a coordinate mark inside the room's large wardrobe, he couldn't let it go to waste.
Ever since Blue Star had embarked on the path of star exploration, resources like gold and silver were no longer scarce at all, commanding very low market prices, so Jiang Zhaoye could buy a huge pile for a pittance.
On the contrary, artificially aged or custom-designed styles required spending a bit extra.
As Jiang Zhaoye stepped out of the White Foal Inn, a bustling hubbub full of daily life rushed over him; Ju City in the early morning was exceptionally lively.
The nearby shops and stalls had opened early. An old man selling millet porridge lifted a heavy wooden lid, causing white steam to billow out of the pot as the aroma of grains drifted into the cold wind.
Most of the food here was stuff Jiang Zhaoye had never seen before.
Being at an age driven by strong curiosity, his nose twitched as he slowed his steps, observing surreptitiously with great interest. At a small stall set up not far away, a heated stone slab was sizzling; when a grayish-white flatbread was slapped onto it with a crackling pop, steam rose up, and the bread expanded, changing color as its edges curled into a crispy toasted yellow.
Someone squatted by the base of a wall, holding a piping-hot bowl of millet porridge and eating it alongside half a flatbread, huffing and puffing until sweat dripped from their head.
Occasional guards from the prefectural garrison wearing leather armor passed by. Wherever they paused, the vendors behind the stalls would hurriedly wrap up food and hand it over respectfully. The soldiers either grabbed roasted meat wrapped in oiled paper to chew as they walked, or carried bowls of hot soup, eating until their mouths glistened with grease.
A rich variety of food scents mingled together, drifting freely through the fresh morning air.
Jiang Zhaoye followed the crowd to buy a few steamed cakes, tucked them into his bosom, and walked east through the city along with the flow of people, listening to Xiao Ling's report in his earpiece as he went.
"Based on information classification, language packs have been divided into Ju City local dialect and Jiang State official elegant speech."
"The local dialect pack for Ju City is 78 percent complete, covering common scenarios such as daily communication, asking directions, shopping, and small talk."
"The official elegant speech pack for the State of Jiang is 39 percent complete. It is recommended to continue supplementing language data in real-life scenarios and add written materials."
Jiang Zhaoye felt a bit conflicted. Pondering in his heart which "foreign language" to study, he quickened his pace.
The streets in the east of the city were narrower than those on Southern Residential Street, and the houses on both sides were lower and more dilapidated. The farther back he walked, the poorer everything looked.
He turned into an alley and, guided by the locator, crossed a residential area similar to the destitute households near the southern wall, crossed a dilapidated stone bridge, and finally stopped in the most run-down street of the area.
The locator displayed that the small dot of light was clearly right here.
He stood in front of an earthen hut, looking at this miserable building and falling into thought.
It was nearly half-collapsed, struggling to maintain a nearly triangular standing posture.
The tattered wooden door was almost entirely rotted away, with a few bundles of dry grass and dead twigs tied to it to barely cover the opening. The stone steps at the entrance were covered in a thick layer of dust without a single footprint, looking completely like nobody lived there.
Jiang Zhaoye took a deep breath and was caught off guard, coughing from the damp, rotten stench in the air. Covering his nose, he pushed open the door while coughing and walked right inside without ceremony.
Dim light filled the ruined room, and the air was thick with an even heavier dampness and moldy smell.
The tables and benches inside were ancient and broken, slanting pitch-black to one side, while layer upon layer of cobwebs covered the eaves. After taking only a few steps, Jiang Zhaoye was already covered in dust. Aside from broken stones, dirt clods, and useless rotten clutter, the dilapidated hut was completely empty.
Standing in the center of this small, ruined house, he looked around and saw no sign of anyone.
Jiang Zhaoye frowned and looked down at his watch; it clearly indicated that the target was nearby.
Taking a few more steps into the room, his sharp senses caught an almost imperceptible sound of breathing coming from a nearby corner. Holding his breath and listening closely, he found the breathing steady and light, like someone in a deep sleep.
He followed the sound and saw a collapsed corner forming a small, triangular space, hidden behind a pile of stones that made it hard to notice.
Inside that small, nest-like corner, beneath a messy pile of rags, curled a familiar and skinny figure.
His chest rose and fell slowly, clearly still fast asleep.
Jiang Zhaoye stood a few steps away, watching him curl into a ball, shrinking inside that pile of miscellaneous rags gathered from who knows where, looking like a bird nesting.
Wrapped around him was a large, worn kudzu-cloth garment, the fabric frayed with quite a few patches, though compared to the rest of the rags, it was clearly his most intact and respectable set of clothes.
His two small hands curled beside his cheeks, revealing thin wrists like firewood sticks.
His hair looked like it had been washed once, surprisingly free of tangles, falling over his neck to reveal a face that had filled out slightly.
His face was clean too, and sleeping peacefully under the shelter of a roof, he even looked somewhat adorable.
Jiang Zhaoye unconsciously curled up the corners of his mouth without even realizing it. He didn't wake the child, but took out a steamed cake—wrapped in oiled paper and still retaining its heat—from his bosom, squatted down, and placed it beside the child's face.
Then he stepped back two paces, found a relatively clean spot to sit down, and quietly waited for him to wake up.
Sunlight from outside streamed in through the worn window frames, casting patches of light and shadow inside the dusty room.
Dust motes floated within the pillars of light, each particle becoming brilliant as if touched by a magic alchemy.
A few morning rooster crows echoed from afar. The pile of rags twitched a few times, and the child rolled over, blearily opening his eyes.
He first saw the steamed cake before him, still emitting a faint hint of steam. Stunned for a moment, he suddenly raised his head, and the next second caught sight of Jiang Zhaoye sitting to the side.
The child trembled in fright, jumping up like a cat with its fur bristling, eyes wide open, staring intently at him.
This child had actually grown a bit taller, Jiang Zhaoye thought leisure-mindedly, propping up his chin and warmly sizing up the child from under the veil of his hat... Hmm, he had also put on a bit of meat, no longer looking so conspicuously top-heavy.
Jiang Zhaoye did not speak.
Seemingly because he felt no malice from Jiang Zhaoye, the child's bristling fur slowly smoothed down.
He continued staring at the guest, opening and closing his mouth several times at a loss, as if wanting to say something, but in the end said nothing at all, only staring warily at this uninvited stranger.
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