Chapter 40: Picking Up Old Qian

It was late spring turning to early summer. Although the day had just begun, the sun’s fierce heat was already making itself felt. Especially clad in a long robe and jacket, Ma Jun found beads of sweat gathering on his forehead. Slightly irritated, he pulled at the reins of his horse, hesitating where he stood. In his previous life, he had once tried horseback riding during an outing with classmates—though there was an instructor at his side, he reckoned he wouldn’t disgrace himself in front of Mao Shiba!

If Ma Jun couldn’t ride a horse, it would be hard to call himself a hero of ancient times. He was wavering over whether to purchase “Mastery in Horsemanship” from the system’s marketplace. The system’s marketplace really lived up to its description—comprehensive, offering everything imaginable. Even something as inconceivable as cosmetic adjustments was possible.

Ma Jun was deeply curious about it, eager to figure out how it all worked. But as an adult, he understood that sometimes, one must suppress the urge to satisfy their curiosity. After a moment’s thought, Ma Jun decided not to buy the skill. Perhaps what he could purchase was no different from what he could achieve through practice. He felt more at ease earning things through his own efforts.

After mounting the horse, he rode at a slow pace for a bit before he got the hang of it. This was thanks in large part to his basic special forces-level physique. The two of them followed the official road. Mao Shiba, robust and broad-shouldered, didn’t notice Ma Jun’s initial awkwardness in the saddle; he only spoke loudly and excitedly, his admiration for Ma Jun evident.

Dealing with men like Mao Shiba was a pleasure. Ma Jun chattered about everything under the sun, pontificating on what he took to be profound truths, and Mao Shiba nodded along enthusiastically. In truth, Mao Shiba had taken a liking to Ma Jun from the start. After witnessing Ma Jun’s deadly dart technique, his admiration grew. As long as Ma Jun didn’t cross a line, whatever he said sounded reasonable to Mao Shiba.

Traveling thus, it was nearly noon when they reached a small town. It was time to mingle and make some acquaintances, and also time for a meal. Having skipped breakfast, Ma Jun’s stomach was growling; he and Mao Shiba dismounted and found an inn to eat.

At the inn’s entrance, after handing the horses over to the stableboy, Ma Jun suddenly slapped his forehead. “Hey, Brother Shiba, I was so engrossed in our conversation that I completely forgot something important. I have a dear friend who promised to travel with me to the capital—he should be waiting nearby. Why don’t you go in first? I’ll be right back!”

After stopping Mao Shiba from following, Ma Jun slipped out of town and found a secluded grove, where he contacted Xiaohua to bring Qian Moduo over.

Since Ma Jun had already entered this world, the system could perform pinpoint teleportation, bringing Old Qian directly to his side and sparing them the inconvenience of searching for each other.

In the blink of an eye, Old Qian appeared before Ma Jun, dressed in a Western suit. He greeted Ma Jun respectfully, glanced around, and said, “Boss, Lord Xiaohua has already briefed me on this world. From now on, in public, I’ll call you Brother Jun.”

“Alright!” Ma Jun nodded. Earlier, when disposing of the soldiers’ bodies, he had taken the opportunity to shave someone’s head, neatly storing the hair in his spatial ring. He now took it all out, along with a set of Qing dynasty clothes he had bought earlier, and tossed them to Old Qian.

Both of their rings were filled with various items. They improvised a queue wig, put a hat on Old Qian, and after changing clothes, he looked every bit the part of a Qing dynasty man.

Ma Jun stepped back, surveyed Old Qian’s smooth forehead, and laughed heartily—this fellow’s Qing attire was even more amusing than his own.

Before entering the inn again, Ma Jun briefed Old Qian on their current situation and the plan ahead.

Inside, Mao Shiba had already ordered food and was waiting for Ma Jun. He immediately came up, exchanged greetings with Old Qian, and looked him up and down in amazement. “This brother is really tall!”

Qian Moduo was nearly 1.9 meters tall, a rare height in ancient times.

The three of them sat down to eat. With Ma Jun smoothing things over, the atmosphere was harmonious. The food was nothing special, but Ma Jun was too hungry to care, devouring two bowls of noodles in one go.

Suddenly, there was a commotion at the door—dozens of people burst in, looking for all the world like government soldiers. They were men of Wu Sangui from Yunnan, boasting arrogantly about their province.

Just seeing the swagger of these underlings, one could understand why the Emperor Kangxi would one day move against Wu Sangui. For a ruler with such ambition, he would never tolerate such presumptuous vassals.

It was Wu Sangui’s misfortune to have encountered such an emperor—driven to rebellion by an extraordinary sovereign.

Mao Shiba, hot-tempered as ever, grew furious at their bragging, slammed the table, and denounced Wu Sangui as a traitor.

The soldiers would not stand for this. With a clang, seven or eight of them drew their weapons and rushed at Mao Shiba.

Ma Jun and Qian Moduo rose to join the fray. Without his swallowtail coat, Old Qian’s skills surpassed even Ma Jun’s, making the fight an easy one.

As they fought, Ma Jun subtly widened the battlefield. Some of the other customers fled, some hid, but at one table sat a man of about twenty-seven or twenty-eight and a woman—neither left.

Soon, the fight spilled toward them. The young man struck out with a fist, sending a soldier flying, then grabbed a handful of bamboo chopsticks and hurled them one by one.

With his help, the fight ended quickly. The soldiers scattered, fleeing in panic and supporting each other.

Mao Shiba stepped forward, clasped his fists, and said to the man, “Thank you for your assistance. I am Mao Shiba. May I have the honor of your name?”

The man rose and returned the gesture. “Brother Mao, your righteous indignation and condemnation of traitors is admirable. There’s no need for thanks—without me, you three would have handled those soldiers just fine.”

Ma Jun and Qian Moduo also came forward with polite words.

Mao Shiba, delighted by the praise, nodded and pressed again for the man’s name.

The man replied, “There are too many people here—it’s not convenient to say. Brothers, let’s part ways for now. I’m sure we’ll meet again.” With that, he turned to help the woman at his side and prepared to leave.

Mao Shiba wanted to say more, but Ma Jun stopped him with a smile. “Brother Bai’s identity is naturally not to be revealed. Rest assured, we’re all men of Han, united in our aspirations. Who knows, perhaps our paths will cross again in the future.”

The man was actually Bai Hansong, a retainer of the Duke Mu’s household, and Ma Jun had guessed his background at once. Bai looked surprised, gazed at Ma Jun for a long moment, then bowed deeply, and left with the woman.

Mao Shiba pestered Ma Jun, curious about Bai Hansong’s identity. Once he learned the truth, his face filled with respect, and he admired Ma Jun all the more—this was truly a great hero dedicated to restoring the Ming!