Chapter Two: My Name Is Han Feng
As he walked along, the voice of a storyteller suddenly came from ahead. Liu Ji considered for a moment, then cleared his throat and tried to sound as distinguished as possible. With a calm air, he said, “Let’s stop up ahead for a while.”
He thought he might be able to gather some useful information from the storyteller, even if only fragments. That would still be better than being completely in the dark.
Once the caravan halted, he stepped out of the carriage. Just then, from the lavishly decorated carriage trailing behind his own, a woman emerged. She was clad in a long purple gown embroidered with golden thread, her jet-black hair partly arranged in an intricate knot atop her head, the rest cascading freely over her shoulders.
She was tall and slender, with delicate, arching brows and slightly long eyes that shimmered with a fluid light. Her features were exquisitely beautiful, possessing a unique temperament that Liu Ji found hard to describe—a quality far surpassing the heavily made-up women he’d seen in his previous life.
He knew at once that this must be Miss Mu of the Mu clan.
“Young Lord Liu, if there is nothing further, I shall take my leave,” Mu Wanjun said, stepping up to him and bowing slightly with a respectful look on her fair, fresh face.
Liu Ji nodded and replied, “Very well.”
At his words, a flicker of surprise crossed Mu Wanjun’s face, but it swiftly vanished. She bowed again, then turned and returned to her carriage, which soon rolled away.
Liu Ji then walked toward the storyteller, his presence naturally drawing the attention of those gathered. One after another, they greeted him with cupped hands:
“Greetings, Young Lord Liu.”
“Young Master Liu.”
“How have you been lately, Young Lord Liu?”
“Young Lord Liu, our Spring Night Pavilion has just received a fresh batch of fine goods—all from the Northern Domain. When will you grace us with a visit?”
And so on.
Liu Ji responded to these friendly greetings with nothing but a cold, impassive face, prompting the crowd to assume he was simply in a foul mood today. Sensing this, they tactfully stepped aside.
“Y-Young Lord Liu…” The storyteller, clearly nervous at Liu Ji’s frosty demeanor, faltered, wondering if he might have said something wrong earlier to displease this young lord.
“Just go on with your story,” Liu Ji said.
“…Ah, very well, very well.” The storyteller gritted his teeth and continued, “Since the battle of Lake City, the name of the King of the South has spread throughout the empire in an instant! The current Emperor even wished to grant him the title of Grand General, sending him to guard the northern frontier. But, alas, the King of the South refused.”
“Had he accepted, the King of the South would truly have been second only to the Emperor himself, standing above all others in the realm. Instead, he now dwells in seclusion…”
With Liu Ji present, the storyteller was clearly ill at ease and dared not elaborate. Seeing this, Liu Ji sighed softly and prepared to leave.
Though he hadn’t gleaned much useful information, it seemed that the remarkable King of the South mentioned in the tale… was his own father! It must be so—otherwise, why would everyone refer to him as Young Lord Liu upon seeing him? The thought made his heart race with excitement.
Could he have transmigrated into a noble household?
Just as he was about to turn away, a sneer rose from somewhere in the crowd: “Heh, even if the Emperor wanted to raise the King of the South to Grand General, would he dare accept? Would he really dare take on that post?”
Hearing this, Liu Ji halted and looked in the direction of the voice. A young man, his clothes patched and filthy, his hair greasy and unkempt, emerged from the crowd.
With a calm air, the man declared, “Mark my words, had the King of the South accepted on the spot, his head would have rolled the very next day! He’d have died on the road to his new command!”
His words drew murmurs of disapproval from the onlookers. The storyteller’s face darkened, and he pointed at the young man, angrily rebuking, “You wretch, what do you mean by this? Who are you to speak here?”
The young man chuckled and replied, “I simply mean that the King of the South made a wise choice in refusing the Emperor’s offer. Otherwise, there would be no King of the South today!”
With hands clasped behind his back, he went on, “Besides, though the King of the South fought brilliantly at Lake City, his Tiger Cavalry suffered thousands of casualties!”
He shook his head with a sigh, “Everyone knows how precious the Tiger Cavalry is—every one of them is an Armored Spirit Wielder; lose one and there’s one less in the world!”
His words carried a distinct air of arrogance.
Someone in the crowd scoffed, “You talk a good game, but if you were in his place, how would you defeat the three hundred thousand barbarians from the Northern Domain with just ten thousand Tiger Cavalry?”
The young man smiled faintly, “Were I in command, I’d send two thousand men to swiftly circle the mountains and strike at the enemy’s main camp from behind.”
As he spoke, he traced lines in the dirt with a stick, “After destroying their supplies and throwing their army into chaos, I’d order the remaining eight thousand Tiger Cavalry to…”
“Boy! So here you are! We’ve been looking all over for you!” a loud voice suddenly boomed from the edge of the crowd.
Liu Ji saw seven or eight burly, rough men forcing their way through, faces set in unfriendly grins as they closed in on the young man. The leader cracked his knuckles menacingly and said through gritted teeth, “You brat, eating without paying and then trying to run—just where did you think you were going?”
Seeing the situation turn against him, the young man grinned apologetically, “Can’t I just put it on my tab? I swear, as soon as I have money, I’ll pay you back!”
“Trying to fool us?” the burly man growled. “If you don’t pay up today, you’re not leaving! Otherwise, don’t blame us if we break your legs!”
The young man looked bitter. “But I really don’t have any money…”
The big man eyed him up and down, his regret plain for having let such a ragged fellow eat in the first place. Clearly, a beggar like this wouldn’t have a coin to his name.
The young man said with forced cheer, “Brother, trust me—when I have money, I’ll pay you back. I, Han Feng, am a man of my word!”
The big man did not believe him, but wasn’t inclined to let him off easily either. Planting his feet wide, he said, “If you want to leave today, crawl between my legs!”
He folded his arms across his chest. “Otherwise, you’ll find out just how much trouble you’re in. So, what’s your choice?”
No one in the crowd spoke up for Han Feng. His earlier remarks had left them thoroughly annoyed, disrupting their enjoyment of the storytelling. Now, they felt he was getting exactly what he deserved.
Surrounded by the burly men, Han Feng clenched his fists, thinking hard for a long moment. Then, suddenly, he grinned.
“Fine, I’ll crawl. Isn’t that enough?”
Under the gaze of all present, Han Feng knelt before the big man and slowly crawled between his legs.
Someone in the crowd jeered, “Tsk tsk, moments ago you were criticizing the King of the South in front of us all, and now you’re crawling between another man’s legs!”
The crowd burst into raucous laughter.
Liu Ji did nothing to intervene; he merely thought to himself that this fellow was putting on airs without the strength to back it up—foolish, really. He was content just to watch.
Han Feng emerged from under the big man’s legs, stood up, and turned to him with a forced smile. “Brother, am I free to go now?”
The big man waved dismissively. “Go on, then. Next time, don’t act like a big shot if you can’t pay for your food. You’re lucky you ran into me—anyone else would have broken your legs!”
With that, the group of men turned to leave.
Han Feng looked around and saw only mocking, indifferent faces watching him. He bent to dust off his knees and turned away as well. No one noticed that his tightly clenched fists were digging sharp nails into his palms as he disappeared into the restless crowd.
“Let’s go,” Liu Ji said, turning to leave.
As for Han Feng, Liu Ji regarded him as nothing but a passing episode. Though he thought Han Feng resembled the down-and-out protagonists of web novels in his former world, reality was much harsher. The notion of a useless nobody rising to greatness was pure fiction—he’d drunk enough chicken soup in his past life to know better.
Reality was cruel. Han Feng, dressed in rags and unable to afford a meal, was the proof, while Liu Ji, upon crossing into this world, was immediately a privileged official’s son…
Such is the way of things.
…