"No One Under Heaven... No One Under Heaven what?" The gate guard eyed the crowd at the city gate with a mix of caution and fear. There was something off about this group—sure, lots of people and horses were nothing unusual on the Silk Road. But a whole pack of women tying up a whole pack of men? Now that was rare. The men looked pitiful: dirty, ragged, barely clothed. The women patrolled around them, occasionally snapping, "Behave yourselves!" The guard rubbed his eyes, decided to ask again, "Uh, you said—who exactly are you people?"
"I told you, we're No One Under Heaven! N-O O-N-E U-N-D-E-R H-E-A-V-E-N!" Little Lotus, who stepped up to explain, was prettier than a peach blossom, but the guard still felt a surreal absurdity. He was about to ask more when Han Bing rode up and snapped coldly, "We're bringing in wanted criminals. Instead of reporting to the authorities, you're interrogating us here? What a joke! Move aside, now!"
Han Bing, the Mistress of Frost Cavern, was something else. One glare from this late-stage ice queen and the guard was instantly cowed—the negotiation sped up dramatically.
Meanwhile, in the middle of the group, right at the center of their protective circle, Jill Young shaded her eyes and looked around, curious. Before her lay a Western city—short, uneven walls barely four meters high, the enclosed area not very large. She guessed there were maybe two or three thousand people inside. The gate guards looked tired and unimpressive. The whole place had a distinctly low-rent vibe.
"Where are we, anyway?" Jill asked uncertainly. "This place doesn't look high-class at all. Can we actually unload our goods here?"
"Yep, this is the spot," Maggie Monroe said with certainty, pointing ahead. "Weston City was just built recently, and it’s not on the main Silk Road routes. But don’t let its size fool you—on this remote branch, it’s the best supply point before heading into the desert."
"Weston?" Jill followed Maggie’s finger and looked over. Sure enough, the shabby city gate had two characters carved above it, but in some completely unfamiliar script—another foreign language! Foreign languages were always out to get her… But she’d heard the name before: "Is this the same Weston that was the Western overlord in Han Dynasty times?"
"That’s the one. Back then, its territory stretched across the West; now, this is all that’s left. Even this little bit only came about by jumping on the Mongol bandwagon a few years ago. The city lord claims to be a descendant of the Weston royal family, but who knows if that’s true." Wu Zhengfeng sighed over the rise and fall of empires, then got back to business: "But whatever the case, the bounty order was issued here—they wouldn’t dare back out, right?"
"Back out? That’d be great, I love it when they try!" The city gates opened and the group started heading in. Jill nudged her horse forward, face full of anticipation: "If they back out, I’ll throw down—and then our No One Under Heaven name will really ring out! If they go crying to the other Western kingdoms, all the better. Makes things smoother for us next time."
These were chaotic times, and the Western frontier was even rougher than the heartland—raids and battles were daily fare. In places like this, a fierce reputation beat a good one. Here, it was about who was toughest, not who could spout the most virtue. A fearsome name—so long as it wasn’t outright evil—actually opened more doors.
So, dear folks, I'm begging you—can someone, anyone, just show up and make trouble so I can stomp you flat? Please!
"Hannah Frost, you take ten people and the wanted posters—go claim the bounty. Xiang Lan, you and twenty others, go sort through the loot we just scored and organize it by type. Lily, take ten folks and hit the market, get the latest on prices, and remember—shop around, don't get ripped off. A Zhi, you and A Mu go find us a place to stay. You're in charge of food and lodging for over a hundred people now. Everybody else, keep an eye on those prisoners. If any of them try to run, break their legs!" Jill rattled off orders like a pro, and everyone scattered to their tasks without missing a beat.
When your crew is this competent, being the boss is a breeze. And following the golden rules of modern management: once your team runs smoothly, the leaders can sneak off and play video games... So Jill hopped off her horse and called to Wu Zhengfeng, "Come on, let's go see what Weston City has to offer."
In a town with barely three thousand people, the arrival of the No One Under Heaven gang was a big deal. Three hundred of them, a third of whom were women—all armed to the teeth with swords, knives, and bows—definitely not your average tourists. The whole city was buzzing and staring. While the squad got all the attention, Jill, Wu Zhengfeng, and Lady Simone slipped into the crowd and switched to shopping mode.
The Silk Road splits into a north and south route, kind of like a person's left and right legs. Weston City sits right where the north route turns south and the south route turns north—basically, it's the awkward bit between your left and right legs. The city's tucked against the southern side of the Tianshan Mountains, in a mix of hills and grassland. In modern terms, it's in the Hami region. Of the three thousand people here, probably less than half actually live here full-time. Most are just passing through on the Silk Road.
You've got merchants, mercenaries, missionaries, deserters, fugitives, horse thieves—the sketchier you are, the more you like hiding out in places like this. Han Chinese, Hu people, lamas, monks, Taoists—all sorts of dusty travelers, and almost no women on the street. No matter who they are, everyone has that 'don't mess with me' look, which is kind of a survival skill in these chaotic times. So when Jill and her crew—dressed sharp and looking good—walked by, they turned every head in town.
Jill didn't care about all those curious, suspicious stares. She just minded her own business. If trouble comes, she'll stomp it; if not, no point overthinking. For now, it's all about unloading their loot and stocking up on supplies.
[Skipped: Meta passage about web novel serialization. Not part of the story.]
And you know what? The market here is actually pretty impressive if you take a closer look.
"Universal Elixir! The real deal!" a vendor shouted. "Worried about tough times ahead? No need to lug around a bag of weird herbs—one pill solves a thousand problems! Broken bones, torn muscles? Forget a hundred days—thirty is all you need! Genuine old-school medicine, top-notch healing balm, stops bleeding on the outside, grows new flesh and bone on the inside, and puts you on the fast track to your Silk Road dreams!"
"Warhorses! Top-grade Mongolian steeds—selling at cost!" a horse dealer hollered. "The Silk Road is long—your horse is your ship! Whether you're robbing or running, a good horse is a must! Look at that spirit, those legs—listen to its neigh! I’ll load it up with a thousand pounds and have it run ten miles right now, just to prove it’s the best of the best!"
"Chainmail! Real chainmail!" a blacksmith waved his product proudly. "Cold-forged iron, hammered a thousand times—wear this and you’ll be invincible! Check out the quality—swords and knives can’t touch it! If you don’t believe me, I’ll put it on and you can hit me all you want. Slash, chop, punch—if I get hurt, it’s on me!"
There’s a ton of stuff being hawked, but if you want the real gems, you’ll need a sharp eye.
Take that Panacea Elixir, for example. Jill grabbed a bottle, tried a dab on her hand—cool and refreshing, works as a moisturizer at least. But as for healing bones and blood? Yeah, right. If you believe that, maybe you’ve got faith-based powers.
Now, about those warhorses—they really could haul a ton and dash around like crazy, neighing up a storm. But after Lady Simone checked them out, she declared the horses were all hopped up on drugs. She’s an expert on stimulants and said these horses would crash and burn after a few days.
And the chainmail? Oh, there’s a story. Wu Zhengfeng picked up the shirt—made of iron rings, heavy as heck, at least twenty pounds. It looked baggy and weird but was supposed to be top-notch. The blacksmith puffed out his chest, promising it could take any beating. Wu Zhengfeng gave it a few sword whacks with normal strength—the rings absorbed the force and the blacksmith just shrugged it off.
Wu Zhengfeng thought the chainmail was decent and wanted to place an order. Jill, though, was curious and wanted to try shooting an arrow at it. The blacksmith was all in—spread his arms wide and said, "Go for it!"
So Jill drew her bow, let an arrow fly—thwack! Sparks flew, and the arrow stuck right in the chainmail. The blacksmith shook himself; the arrow didn’t budge. Shook again—it was still there. Then, a patch of red started seeping out from the chainmail.
The crowd around them all gasped, eyes popping out of their heads.
"No worries, no worries! If I just press my Celestial Lake and Wind Gate acupoints, I’ll stop the bleeding!" The blacksmith slapped his chest where the acupoints should be, but the chainmail was in the way, so it didn’t work—blood kept dripping onto his feet.
"No, no worries! I just need to pull out the arrow and take off the chainmail and..." He grabbed the arrow and yanked—stuck! Yanked again—still stuck! Third try—well, the poor guy was twitching and passed out cold.
Jill grabbed the arrow and yanked it out with a pop. Wu Zhengfeng flicked two fingers, punching through the chainmail to stop the bleeding. Buddy, you’d better go see the doctor over there—maybe his Panacea Elixir will help. Or get some of that horse dealer’s stimulant; that might do the trick.
"Forget chainmail. It’s great against swords but useless against arrows, and the price is just killer. We need something cheaper and more practical." Jill thought for a moment, then clapped her hands. "I got it! Let’s try leather armor!"
"Leather armor?"
Ten minutes later, the three of them were standing in front of a leather armor stall.
"Wow, you three look so regal—must be princesses, right? Come on, check out the masterpieces from my 'Blue-Grade' Leatherworks!" The vendor gushed. "On the Silk Road, leather armor is the way to go. It’ll stop swords and arrows, plus it’s light, warm, stretchy, and you can mix and match accessories! See—take off the sleeves for a cool breeze during the day. At night, throw on the cloak and padded shirt for warmth! Affordable, perfect for cannon fodder. My customers swear by it—no more complaints from the crew. You gotta try it to believe it!"
"Uh..." Jill squinted. She wasn’t the only one—Wu Zhengfeng and Lady Simone were both sporting awkward looks. All three stared at what Jill was holding. She took a deep breath and gave the vendor another shot: "This... is leather armor?"
"Check out my signature piece—Silver-Scaled Jerkin, blue-grade, five coins each! Honest business, buy now or miss out, tenfold compensation if it’s fake!"
"But why does it look... like a sheet with a bunch of mahjong tiles glued on?" Honestly, this so-called armor looked even flimsier than the chainmail. Basically, it was a bedsheet with a hole for your head and a bunch of leather patches sewn all over. It kind of resembled a Golden Jade Full House costume, or maybe one of those mahjong mats from the supermarket. Sure, it’s got ‘silver scales’—but get close and there’s this weird fermented smell, like a bug could crawl out any second.
"Forget the function—just look at it! This thing is hideous! Is it really so hard to find decent gear for the crew? Who would wear this to go trick-or-treating? You know what, forget it—let’s buy some leather and make our own!"
Fueled by the burning spirit of DIY, Jill decided to make her own armor. How hard could it be? Maybe tough, but not impossible. Ouyezi’s teachings were mostly about metal weapons, but he knew a thing or two about armor. Jill was familiar with metal armor techniques—just lacked a good furnace. So, leather would do for now. As long as she could design it, the rest was just details.
[Skipped: Meta passage about web novel navigation. Not part of the story.]
"First, set the framework—let’s look at female armor from online games. But ditch all those 'show your weak spots' designs—one arrow and you’re toast. Think Underworld-style leather: covered up but cool. Then, add metal plates to the important areas—shoulders, knees, elbows, you name it..."
Jill grabbed a stick and started sketching on the ground, totally absorbed. Wu Zhengfeng had no clue what she was mumbling about and started daydreaming. Driven by girlish curiosity, she found a new focus: "Your hair grows crazy fast. It’s already down to your back—so in two days, it’ll be back to normal?"
"Mmm-hmm..." Jill replied absentmindedly, lost in her creative flow.
Let’s talk about Jill’s hair for a sec.
Ever since she got her Dragon Uppercut power, her hair length was pretty much fixed. If it was too short, it’d grow like crazy; once it was long enough, it stopped. Never broke, never fell out, never tangled. Everyone knows her wild sleeping habits, but no matter how much she tossed and turned, or how messy it looked in the morning, just one swipe of a comb and—bam!—it was perfectly smooth, like a shampoo commercial.
Her hair was glossy, dazzling, white with a golden halo. If you looked close, the shimmer seemed to flow. Every strand was clear and distinct, like a mix of platinum wire and fiber optics. If it wasn’t growing out of her head, people would probably mistake it for treasure—and honestly, even on her head, folks secretly considered it valuable.
Why all this talk about hair? Because somewhere else in Weston City, someone had their eye on it.
"Hey, look!" A shifty-eyed man nudged his buddy, signaling with a glance. The group looked over and saw two guys checking into an inn, chatting with the innkeeper.
"What’s up?" his buddy asked, clueless.
"You guys need better eyes—cover me!" The shifty guy signaled, and the three petty thieves moved in. One bumped into someone and started arguing, another jumped in to break it up and apologize, while the third slipped away and swiped something in the chaos. After their slick routine, the trio regrouped at the street corner.
"So, what’d you get?"
"Check it out!" The shifty-eyed guy pulled a long, thin thread from his sleeve. It was just one strand, but against his dark skin, it shone bright and white.
"Uh... what is that?" His buddies leaned in, curious. "Never seen anything like it—looks fancy."
"Of course! That guy was super careful with it, guarding it like treasure. If I wasn’t quick, no way I’d have snatched it." He wrapped the Celestial Thread around his finger and tugged—no break. Pulled harder—still no break. "Whoa, this stuff is tough! My fingers hurt, but it won’t snap!"
"Let me see!" The two buddies got excited, tried the thread themselves, and wondered, "What kind of string is this tough?"
"With my sharp eyes, I guarantee this isn’t ordinary—this is a real treasure..." Shifty-eyed guy’s eyes darted around, then he lit up. "I got it! This is the jackpot!"
His buddies perked up, full of curiosity. "So what is it, really?"
"Ever heard of Celestial Thread?" he said mysteriously. "Up in the deadly cold Snowy Mountains, there’s a kind of killer celestial silkworm. After a thousand years, it spins silk that’s a priceless treasure! This bit right here—worth a fortune! And that guy’s got a whole bundle of it. If we nab it all and offer it to the Buddha, we’ll be set for life—this is big money..."
All three thieves’ eyes lit up.
While the trio got busy, Jill was happily designing her armor—already making progress. Just then, Hannah Frost returned with news: "Boss, King Weston wants to see you. Says he’s got a big deal."