Chapter 23: Selling Firewood

It required no silver tongue for Li Po to coax the two Northern men to his side. As they walked toward the slave market, Li Po chatted with the brothers. "Are you two brothers government soldiers?"

"Naturally. Back when we were training, my brother was even a squad leader."

"Fine skills, the two of you..."

"Not much skill, otherwise we wouldn't have been beaten by you."

Language is indeed a bridge for communication. Although the brothers still felt a lingering resentment, as they talked, their bitterness began to fade. Li Po’s understanding of the Sui military system was no less than theirs, and he was even more familiar with life in the wilderness. By the time they had walked for a while, the brothers felt as if they had met a kindred spirit; everything this "villain" said sounded agreeable to their ears.

Passing through the refugee camp, seeing the disheveled men, women, and children in the thatched huts, freezing and barely clinging to life, Shi Da’s heart softened. Before they even left the camp, he dropped the firewood from his shoulders onto the ground.

He muttered gruffly, "I don't need this firewood anymore."

Seeing this, Shi Er began to untie the ropes on his own shoulders.

Li Po immediately grabbed Shi Er. "You two have good hearts, but this firewood won't save lives. One load is enough; there's no need to leave it all here. Besides, if you run out of wood, it won't look good for you when you return."

After they left the camp, the brothers’ expressions grew troubled. The consequence of having a soft heart was that they now had to figure out how to explain this to their clansmen.

Li Po didn't bother to thank them; after all, the wood wasn't for him, so he had no reason to offer thanks. He did, however, find it unexpected that these two men, who appeared so hot-tempered and fierce, actually had good hearts—far better than those hypocritical monks.

"Don't worry, we'll just sell the wood for a good price."

"We aren't worried about those two copper coins."

"I know, I know, it's just hard to explain when you get back."

"Shi Da said we aren't to cause trouble in the city."

This "Shi Da" naturally did not refer to the older of the two brothers, but was a title of respect used by the villagers for the leader of their group of hunters.

"I didn't say we were going to cause trouble, but in this market, if we aren't a bit fierce, how are we supposed to talk business?"

The three of them stepped through the fence of the slave market. The market had a gatekeeper, and although the trio looked like an odd bunch, no one came out to question them.

The market was filthy and chaotic, essentially a replica of the refugee camp. It was Li Po’s first time inside, and he scanned his surroundings constantly. This time, however, with two hunters by his side, it was different; the malicious gazes that usually fell upon him were nowhere to be found.

He led the brothers on a circuit through the market. The North City market was small, consisting of a collection of dilapidated houses and courtyards enclosed by a fence. Few people were walking about, and no one cleared the snow; sewage and excrement were everywhere, giving off a foul odor. He saw no slaves, but did spot a few idlers wearing ragged fur coats, hurrying to and fro, some with swords strapped to their waists.

To Li Po, the winter market felt desolate, cold, and sparsely populated. Yet, he was certain that every corner of this place concealed countless sins. He had not come to punish the wicked, but to carve out a living in this den of iniquity.

A cursory glance would not suffice. Making inquiries required time, yet Li Po did not want to drag it out. Soon, he led the brothers back to the edge of the refugee camp. The brothers were becoming increasingly quiet; they were no strangers to the market, but they did not belong here, and staying long made them feel deeply uncomfortable. They wanted to leave as quickly as possible.

Things did not go as they hoped. Li Po stopped, gave a quick look, and led them to the door of a large house. Connected to a courtyard, it appeared to be one of the more imposing structures in the market. This suggested that the owner lived well and that their business was not insignificant.

However, as Li Po arrived at the door and heard the boisterous sounds of shouting and drinking from within, he slammed his foot against the thick wooden door three times. The gate groaned in protest, shedding dust that was immediately swept away by the biting wind.

Li Po stepped back to the side of the brothers, who were left gaping, their bodies tensing up. They felt that another beating was imminent. This was not just anywhere—it was the slave market. Even if they brought every member of their clan, the result of such a provocation would surely be being beaten into the dirt. If not for the orders of their elder, this "Young Master Li" would likely have cost them their lives right here. Unable to complain about this "living ancestor," the brothers could only hold their breath in terror.

The room fell silent for a moment, followed by a burst of cursing. The doors swung open, and two fierce-looking men stood in the entrance. As the doors opened, the aroma of wine and meat, along with the warmth from within, poured out, causing the starving Li Po to involuntarily swallow his rising saliva.

Ignoring the two gatekeepers, he peered through the gap into the room. A large, wide table sat in the spacious front hall, cluttered with wine and meat. Seven or eight robust men were already flushed with drink, but were now staring intently at the door.

The two gatekeepers looked fierce, but Li Po was fiercer. Before they could speak, he roared, "Selling firewood! Thirty coins a load, and we're selling it to you!"

Shi Da and his brother hunched their shoulders, wishing they could call for their mother; it seemed the beating today was unavoidable. But following this, the brothers puffed out their chests and widened their eyes. When a situation could no longer be resolved peacefully, it often ignited their ferocity—a trait common to the men of the frontier.

The two gatekeepers were amused. The three before them looked strange; the lad who had spoken had a cocky attitude, but looked like a common street urchin. If he had been alone, they certainly would have dragged him inside for a beating, perhaps even quietly selling him off. But the lad was followed by two large men who were clearly hunters from outside the city.

The two men chuckled, wondering if this lad was perhaps a broker in the market they hadn't heard of before. Ma Yi was full of wicked people, and the market had many rules, both open and secret, but they had never heard of anyone aggressively forcing a sale of firewood.

The two gatekeepers found it all rather baffling. "Get lost! Go sell your wood elsewhere. Do you even know where you are standing?"