Chapter 50: The Deep Bond Between Master and Servant

Within the courtyard, the atmosphere was strangely tense.

Rat Tianjiao bared his teeth, Wang Yuan lowered his head in silence, and Jiang Chen sipped his tea, lost in thought as if contemplating something important.

Seeing Wang Yuan feign ignorance and remain motionless, Rat Tianjiao was itching to lash out at him, but with Jiang Chen present, he did not dare. Finally, Jiang Chen spoke.

"Very well. Since you have made up your mind, let Rat Tianjiao accompany you on this journey," he said. "As for what you seek, if you truly gain something this time, I will give you a chance."

His words were calm; the decision had been made.

Upon hearing this, Rat Tianjiao shot Wang Yuan a fierce glare before withdrawing his gaze and returning to his roast chicken, though the flavor now seemed dulled.

Wang Yuan, on the other hand, felt his heart jolt. He had risked everything for Jiang Chen, even his life, for the sake of such a promise.

"Thank you, sir," he managed, suppressing the surge of emotion that threatened to betray his composure.

Jiang Chen took no further notice. There was no true bond between them; Wang Yuan’s loyalty was clearly born of self-interest.

"Accompany him on this trip," Jiang Chen instructed Rat Tianjiao. "Don’t worry about the outcome—just do your utmost to protect him. Of course, your own life comes first."

Sensing Rat Tianjiao’s reluctance, Jiang Chen offered these words of comfort. Perhaps it was from spending so much time at his side, but the rat had grown increasingly perceptive.

At these words, Rat Tianjiao finally looked up from his roast chicken, patted his chest, and squeaked his assurance that he would carry out Jiang Chen’s orders faithfully.

Observing this, Wang Yuan bowed and extended both hands, inviting Rat Tianjiao to seat himself.

But Rat Tianjiao merely cast him a scornful glance. Could this man think he was worthy to hold him? Only Jiang Chen could do so—though Jiang Chen never had.

With a whoosh, Rat Tianjiao shrank in size and with a leap, landed atop Wang Yuan’s head, settling there as if he were a mount.

Wang Yuan took no offense. Bowing once more to Jiang Chen, he departed the courtyard with Rat Tianjiao.

As he stepped through the gate and glimpsed a shaft of sunlight piercing the clouds, excitement surged within him. If he succeeded this time, his future would be forever changed.

"I will climb higher," he vowed, determination blazing in his eyes as he descended the southern slope.

Back when Qian Wen was captured, Wang Yuan had tormented him endlessly, seeking vengeance for his wife. But Qian Wen revealed a cruel truth: it was not he who had violated Wang Yuan’s wife, but rather she who, enticed by Qian Wen’s power, had seduced him.

At first, Qian Wen was proud and could not resist her advances, and so they became entangled. Over time, Wang Yuan’s wife grew dissatisfied with her ambiguous position and demanded Qian Wen marry her, threatening to expose everything.

Qian Wen refused. Grateful to Wang Yuan, he did not wish to turn against him, nor did he intend to marry Wang Yuan’s wife; after tasting power, he believed he could do much better.

A conflict erupted. In his attempt to restrain her madness, Qian Wen accidentally killed her.

Struck by this revelation, Wang Yuan was thunderstruck. Qian Wen’s mocking laughter before his death echoed endlessly in his ears. It was then that Wang Yuan resolved to climb higher, to gain power far greater than Qian Wen’s.

For this reason, he had pledged himself body and soul to Jiang Chen. His own cultivation talent was mediocre; the only way up was to become a vine winding around a great tree. In Jiang Chen, he saw boundless promise—a future that even the Iron Butcher could never offer him. After all, the Iron Butcher, for all his might, was still mortal—not immortal.

Three days later, at dawn, a thin mist rose over the Qingyuan River as a merchant ship bearing the De Run Cloth Hall’s banner neared the Misty Bend.

De Run Cloth Hall was a major commercial house in Qingyuan County, doing business on a grand scale and maintaining ties with all the local powers. Even the wife of the county magistrate favored their fabrics, and so their ships frequently plied the Qingyuan’s waters.

At that moment, within one of the cabins, a young man of about twenty, clad in white, with a pallid face and thin lips, sat in meditation. He was An Yuxuan, the last scion of the An family.

After a while, An Yuxuan coughed up a mouthful of dark blood.

Hearing the noise, a young woman of similar age entered, carrying a brass basin. She wore a rose-red, narrow-sleeved short jacket, an apricot sash at her waist, and a pomegranate-red skirt. Her oval face was as fair as jade, and she radiated a gentle warmth. She was Hongyu, An Yuxuan’s maid.

"Young master, the ship is about to pass Qinghe County. Once we’re past there, southward lies the border of Leshan Prefecture," she said softly, as she wiped the blood from his lips and described their current situation.

An Yuxuan nodded. Though the An family had collapsed overnight, its roots still lingered. It was thanks to these lingering connections that he had thus far evaded capture and managed to board this De Run Cloth Hall ship. The ship’s captain was, in fact, a secret agent of the An family—a diehard loyalist.

"As long as we reach Leshan Prefecture, with its relative safety and resources, I am certain I can break through to Qi Refinement within ten years. Then I will return, restore the An family, and let none who harmed us escape retribution."

Excitement flushed An Yuxuan’s pale face with color.

At his mention of breaking through to Qi Refinement, Hongyu’s expression flickered subtly, though she concealed it well.

"Young master, you are still injured. Please, do not let anger disturb your recovery," she said gently, comforting him.

An Yuxuan nodded. Hongyu was indeed attentive, never causing him the slightest worry. Were she not deliberately trained by the family to be his cauldron, he would have made her his concubine without hesitation.

"Be at ease, Hongyu. I will take care of myself," he said, his voice softening as he regarded her. For a moment, their eyes met, master and servant bound by mutual affection.

Meanwhile, three bandit ships, having lain in wait, silently approached the De Run Cloth Hall vessel, using the thickening mist as cover. For reasons unknown, the fog this morning was even denser than usual, and the bandits drew near like hunters in the dark.