"Young master, watch your step."
Zane Zhuang walked in front, having trekked the mountain path for nearly a whole day. Dusk was approaching, and Zane remembered there was a place ahead where they could descend into the deep ravine. Tonight, they would have to spend the night in the dried-up ravine, and if they set out at dawn tomorrow, they would reach the eastern road to Qiland near Dingtown by noon.
This was the first time John Chou had ever traveled so far from home, and especially along such a narrow mountain trail. Before the main road to Dingtown was built, most residents of the original Wild Village had to take this path to reach Dingtown, which was at least three or four hours slower than the main road. When the river hadn’t dried up, the area was damp, and travelers had to be careful not to slip into the ravine.
After a while, Zane Zhuang spotted a conspicuous large pine tree.
"We’re here, young master. There’s a steeper slope over there—we can go down and spend the night below."
John Chou nodded, already feeling exhausted. This was the first time in his life he’d walked such a mountain path. No matter how clever he was for his age, the rugged trail had left his feet numb and aching.
After discussion, only Zane Zhuang and John Chou set out together. At first, Henry Henderson objected, insisting they needed at least ten skilled guards. But John Chou argued that any extra person would be a burden—Zane alone was enough.
John Chou had explained the reason clearly: they would pose as refugees, making it easier to reach Qiland without raising suspicion. Too many guards would attract attention. Zane Zhuang, with his dark skin and sturdy build, looked every bit the farmer, while John said he only needed to disguise himself as a beggar to avoid suspicion.
Still, Henry Henderson worried that John Chou, used to a life of luxury, might not be able to stomach ordinary food. But John retorted that if he was to do such things in the future, he needed to know what poor people actually ate.
Zane Zhuang also pointed out that while their outfits might arouse suspicion in nicer eateries, buying from ordinary farmhouses would pose no problem.
"Let me carry you down, young master. The path here is treacherous."
Zane Zhuang squatted in front of John Chou, gesturing for him to climb onto his back. But John, stubborn as ever, shook his head.
"If you can walk it, Uncle Zane, then so can I. Otherwise, there’s no point in me coming out here at all."
Zane Zhuang sighed helplessly and started down the slope, repeatedly reminding John to watch his step. Soon, Zane had reached the bottom, watching as John clung to plants and slowly made his way down. Zane could see from his grimace that John’s feet must have already blistered.
"Young master, I brought medicine. Sit down."
Zane found a large rock, picked John Chou up, and set him down on it. As he took off John's shoes, Zane winced—John’s feet were already bleeding, and Zane couldn’t help but feel pity.
"It’s fine. Like I said, Uncle Zane, if you can do it, so can I. Didn’t you bring medicine?"
Zane then applied medicine to John’s blistered feet. John threw his head back, tears springing to his eyes from the pain.
"Young master, I’ve always wondered how you can endure so much. Those relatives who split off from the family really were too much—I even wanted to teach them a lesson myself."
John quickly brushed away his tears and then smiled.
"It’s nothing, really. If I couldn’t endure it, my mother would have had a much harder time. Back then, I just didn’t want to listen to Grandpa go on about the family business all day, so I pretended not to care. The relatives who split off already thought they’d won. If I did anything rash, they’d target my mother. It was just some mockery—nothing I couldn’t handle."
Zane Zhuang started gathering firewood, while John’s feet burned with pain but soon grew cool in the mountain breeze, bringing some relief.
"Uncle Zane, isn’t this the ravine where my mother pulled my father back years ago?"
Zane began building a makeshift stove. He’d brought a bit of meat, planning to roast it and let it dry overnight so they could take it on the road. If John got hungry, he’d have something to eat.
After setting up the temporary stove, John stared at it in confusion.
"Uncle Zane, why’d you leave such a big hole here?"
"That’s for airflow, young master. Without wind, the fire would go out easily. The wind helps it burn."
John smiled, quietly watching Zane light the fire. Soon, the flames caught, and Zane took out the meat from his bag, roasting it on some branches. The aroma wafted over. Though John was starving, all he had was dry rations and water. Grinning, he started eating the dry food in big bites.
"Once the meat’s done roasting, you can have some, young master."
"No thanks, Uncle Zane. I’m full. I’m tired—I want to sleep."
Zane Zhuang quickly got up, looked around, and found a sheltered spot near the ravine wall for John. He used his own clothes as a pillow for him. Once John lay down, he started shivering.
"Rest for a bit, young master. I’ll light a fire here soon, and then you won’t be cold."
Zane took off his coat and draped it over John. John, already too tired to move, fell asleep immediately. Zane continued roasting the meat, glancing at John from time to time. The ravine was a good place to rest, but at night it got much colder.
Early the next morning, John woke up exhausted. He squeezed his hands and felt his feet go weak. He’d never experienced anything like this before—though he’d run and jumped around plenty, it was always on flat ground, so he’d never realized how tiring walking could be.
"Let me carry you, young master. By noon we’ll reach the main road. Your feet aren’t healed yet."
John stood up and smiled.
"No need, Uncle Zane. Let’s go."
All the way, John endured inhuman pain. The soles of his feet still hurt, and the pain made him break out in cold sweat, but he kept pushing through, never willing to give in. Zane offered many times to carry him, but John never accepted.
Zane kept glancing back at John. The young master was admirable in every way, but his temperament was a bit too much like Youchen—too stubborn.
"Young master, sometimes being too stubborn isn’t good. Your father, Youchen, was the same way, so I think..."
"What are you talking about, Uncle Zane? Stubborn? I’m not being stubborn. I’m much better now—my feet are getting used to the mountain path. When I walk, I try to keep my soles flat against the ground, so my feet don’t take too much force and get worn out."
Zane Zhuang stared in surprise. Indeed, John had been moving very carefully, step by step, and his gait had looked odd. He hadn’t realized John was searching for flat ground.
Finally, just after noon, the two spotted several tea stalls and a relay station in the distance, where they could rent horses.
"Be careful going down the mountain, young master."
Zane reminded him, while John tilted his head back and squinted at the sun in the sky.
"It feels great."
Zane looked at him in confusion. At that moment, John was grinning happily, as if he’d accomplished something important—truly joyful from the bottom of his heart.
"Young master, what’s going on with you?"
"Uncle Zane, I think the reason most people avoid mountain paths and stick to the flat road is because it’s easier. Mountain paths are rugged, but maybe people don’t realize—they’re more challenging, and you can discover so many things!"
Zane looked at John in confusion. John started down the mountain ahead of him, moving slowly and carefully with each step.
At last, they reached the relay station. The scent of beef filled the shop, making John Chou swallow repeatedly. Zane Zhuang found them a seat, planning to order some boiled beef, but John quickly stopped him.
"If I eat it today, Uncle Zane, I might not be able to resist for the rest of the journey. Let’s just have some plain rice and pickled vegetables."
After the meal, John ate a lot. He’d never thought plain rice and simple dishes could taste so good. His craving for beef vanished once he was full. After a short rest, they rented two fast horses and set off again. The main road was packed with people—merchants traveling between Dingtown and Qiland, most of them hauling pottery, with only a little grain.
Qiland was stable for now, though tensions were rising beneath the surface. The people there still enjoyed prosperity.
"Uncle Zane, what if we get there and can’t find my sister, Yixue Han?"
Suddenly, John asked. Zane shook his head and smiled.
"We keep searching until we find her."
"That’s what I think too. After all, I need someone to help me take over some of the family business. Doing it all alone would be exhausting."
Three days later, they reached the border of Qiland. Ahead was a checkpoint—everyone entering Qiland faced strict inspection and had to pay taxes.
John saw many people ahead being forced to hand over belongings by the soldiers, but all they could do was swallow their anger. Zane grew worried, since they carried a lot of money.
"Uncle Zane, come with me."
Zane blinked and followed John out of the line. John quickly scanned the ground, grabbed some mud and smeared it on his face, then had Zane carry him. He covered his cheek with a cloth, crushed some chili pepper and rubbed it on his lips.
"Just do as I say, Uncle Zane."