Chapter 119, The Chou Copper Coin Returns

Translator: StarReader

 

“Master Wang is currently the highest bidder. Any other distinguished guests or young masters who wish to continue bidding? Five thousand silver once…!”

 

Matron Li’s face blossomed into a smile, ready for the final two calls and to seal the deal on this night’s escort rights.

 

Beside the stage, Young Master Wang Fuhao was already trembling with excitement, barely able to contain himself.

 

Little did he know that his father, Magistrate Wang, was currently kneeling before Governor Zhao Juzhen in one of the private rooms on the third floor, wishing he could slap some sense into his troublemaking son.

 

Governor Zhao Juzhen paid no mind to Magistrate Wang or his clerk, Wang Zhubo, who were kneeling on the floor. He and the imperial inspector Wang Shoucheng eagerly awaited the arrival of Mist Terrace’s guests, anxiously calculating the remaining time.

 

The flower’s fate had been sealed, leaving little time for alternatives. If push came to shove, he’d have to use his court-issued pacification rewards to buy out that contract from the Caravan Guards.

 

…

 

Gusu city’s streets were pitch-black. Most citizens had extinguished their lights and retired early to ensure they could rise with the sun for work tomorrow. Yet, around Mist Terrace, red lanterns blazed through the night. Numerous martial artists, wealthy merchants, and young masters continued their revelry, refusing to call it a night.

 

Suddenly, Mist Terrace’s tightly closed doors were forced open.

 

A chill wind howled, piercing the warmth of the Mist Terrace. Every martial artist and wealthy merchant within, along with their hired guards, felt a sudden cold that seemed to sober them up, drawing their astonished gazes towards the door.

 

A blue-clad figure stood there, shrouded in the night. Behind him, the burly black-faced head porter waited respectfully, accompanied by over thirty breathless porters carrying heavy burdens. The sight suggested they were traveling merchants, arriving with a considerable amount of cargo.

 

“Halt!”

 

“Who goes there?”

 

The guards barked, instantly on alert. Only those of significant status could be seated inside; lesser nobles and unknown martial artists were not permitted entry.

 

The blue-clad figure, cloak billowing with the cold wind, stepped in, his gaze falling on Ah Nu at the center of the stage. “Ah, Nu’s price?” he asked flatly.

 

Many merchants recognized the black-faced porter as Old Blackhead from the West Gate Pier, known for carrying goods for passing travelers. The porters bore six heavy, lock-laden bronze boxes each, their contents unknown.

 

If this figure was indeed a traveling merchant come to Gusu to sell his wares, how had he convinced these crude porters to bring such heavy cargo into the Mist Terrace?

 

This wasn’t your typical market, far from it! The Caravan Guards and disciples were questioning this intruder with a bamboo hat and blue robes. But when he proved he wasn’t here to cause trouble but to ask about prices, they paused, looking back at Vice Leader Wu.

 

“The official decree and the rules of the brothel dictate the highest bid gets the prize,” Vice Leader Wu said sternly. “Young Miss Ah Nu’s maiden night is now priced at five thousand taels.”

 

Vice Leader Wu’s eyebrows twitched at the price, but he remained composed. Mist Terrace was hosting a Crowning Flower Contest, auctioning off the out-of-favor courtesans’ maiden nights. The highest bid wins, and Caravan Guards aren’t ones to shy away from money, not even for Magistrate Wang Fuhao, the county’s Young Master.

 

Li Shuo, their leader, had warned them. Tonight might see some high-profile clients… perhaps more than one. They were to handle it carefully; if they couldn’t manage, Li Shuo himself would intervene.

 

Wang Fuhao leaped to his feet in anger, “You dare bid against me? I’m the son of Gusu County’s magistrate! I’ve bought Ah Nu’s maiden night for five thousand taels! Don’t cause trouble, or you won’t leave Gusu alive!”

 

The blue-clad man remained silent. He had asked about ransom price, not maiden money.

 

When everyone thought he’d back down, he simply said, “Go ahead and count the contents of this box yourselves.”

 

He didn’t care what the price was now. He just clapped his hands, signaling the start of a spectacle. Black-faced porters led thirty-odd burly men, struggling under the weight of five heavy, iron-banded wooden boxes, into Mist Terrace’s main hall.

 

The five heavy treasure chests hit the ground one by one, shaking the floor and kicking up dust.

 

 

 

Everyone in the Mist Terrace lobby—martial artists, rich merchants, young masters—stared in disbelief. They knew ordinary goods were lightweight, so what was inside these boxes to make them so heavy?

 

It took six burly porters just to barely lift one!

 

“Sir, your goods are all here,” said the dark-faced porter, bowing low and humble. He didn’t know who this blue-clad man was or what the chests contained, but he’d never encountered such a generous gold-giver before.

 

“Open it!” boomed Vice Leader Wu from upstairs, his eyes gleaming with greed.

 

A first-rate expert among the Caravan Guards swiftly approached, slashing open the chest’s heavy iron lock.

 

A blinding flash of gold and jewels burst forth, momentarily blinding even him. He staggered back a few steps before stopping.

 

“Wow!” gasped everyone downstairs. “Gold bars! Gems! And precious stones!”

 

The crowd of martial artists and wealthy merchants craned their necks to see, eyes wide with shock as they swallowed hard in awe.

 

A sight like this was rarely seen, even by the wealthiest of men. The heart pounded wildly, threatening to burst from one’s chest at the sight of so many gold ingots filling a single chest.

 

“Count them!” Vice Leader Wu commanded, his heart racing with the realization that tonight’s guest was an unimaginably big shot.

 

The Caravan Guards’ first-rate experts hurried forward, scrutinizing each ingot for authenticity. To their astonishment, they found nothing but solid ten-tael gold ingots and a profusion of expensive jewels.

 

Swiftly, they tallied the yellow gold and precious gems. The intact ingots made their task easy; no need for scales or weighing.

 

One expert, trembling with excitement, reported, “Vice Leader, counting the gold and jewels, we have at least ten thousand taels!”

 

“Ten thousand taels of gold!” Vice Leader and the Mist Terrace martial artists and merchants gasped. It was a world apart from carrying paper money worth that amount.

 

Gold in hand meant immediate access to wealth, unlike paper money, which required redemption through a money house, regardless of their safety.

 

While it was common for martial artists to carry silver notes worth hundreds or thousands, no one would dare travel with such vast amounts of white silver or yellow gold. Not even the Wu Region’s four great groups like ours would risk sending out more than ten thousand taels without our leader, Li Shuo himself, leading the escort. And he’d bring along top-notch and second-rate experts to ensure safety.

 

Losing a shipment midway would be catastrophic for any group, an injury they couldn’t afford to sustain.

 

If they dared flash any wealth, fearsome masked bandits would swarm them like a tide once they’d left Gusu’s city walls by ten li. Even white path disciples couldn’t resist joining in the fun. Four more identical, heavy treasure chests remained unopened, likely filled with gold!

 

This mysterious blue-clad figure, accompanied by thirty burly porters from the docks, carried them all. It was audacious beyond belief, disregarding the entire Wu Region’s martial artists!

 

No one dared travel with such riches alone. Not even a Grandmaster would risk it without a troop of skilled experts. Yet here he stood, one man and thirty porters, with fifty thousand taels in tow. Who is this formidable figure?

 

Mist Terrace fell silent. Over a thousand martial artists, rich young masters, matrons, and courtesans stared in disbelief at the blue-clad, bamboo-hatted figure.

 

“Sir,” Vice Leader Wu stammered, his face pale with astonishment. “Are you… paying a ransom?”

 

This person—who was he?

 

Could it be… the one who wiped out the Whale Gang, that very same Immortal Su?!

 

The entire Mist Terrace is in shock, hearts pounding with fear.

 

Yet, for some unknown reason, Immortal Su insisted on wearing a bamboo hat, concealing his face.

 

The blue-clad bamboo hat figure stands stoically silent, no longer speaking.

 

Vice Leader Wu’s heart trembled.

 

This was a figure one couldn’t offend, untouchable in the Wu Region.

 

Vice Leader Wu quickly bowed respectfully, “Sir, this treasure chest contains enough gold to ransom Young Miss Ah Nu. I’ll fetch her indenture contract immediately.”

 

Wang Fuhao, Young Master Wang stared at the treasure chest brimming with golden ingots, his face a mask of terror. Seeing the blue-clad figure, he suddenly recalled something and hurriedly crawled under the table, hiding his plump body.

 

Five chests, five hundred thousand gold ingots each.

 

Not even selling off Magistrate Wang would fetch such a price.

 

This mysterious blue-clad figure treated golden ingots like trash, showing no regard for the thousand martial artists present.

 

In his eyes, the mighty martial artists of Mist Terrace were insignificant.

 

The wealth was staggering, signaling terrifying power behind it.

 

Hiding under the table, Wang Fuhao trembled with fear, terrified that he might catch another glimpse of that blue-clad figure. He might be a playboy, but he was not foolish enough to provoke someone untouchable.

 

The figure glanced coldly at Wang Fuhao beneath the table.

 

“Your contract!”

 

At that moment, Vice Leader Wu swiftly produced Young Miss Ah Nu’s indenture contract and, trembling slightly, humbly presented it with a low bow.

 

“A single chest for this contract, one thousand gold taels to buy it. Let your Leader Li himself go to the government office and cancel Young Miss Ah Nu’s contract!”

 

The blue-clad figure took the contract without expression, giving it a brief glance.

 

“Yes,” Vice Leader Wu nodded repeatedly, too awestruck to speak further.

 

Reaching into his waistband, the blue-clad figure pulled out a copper coin and paused. This was the very coin Ah Chou had gifted him five years ago when they joined the martial world together. He’d never had the chance to repay this debt.

 

He sighed inwardly. No one was qualified to save Ah Nu—not even him. Only Ah Chou could rescue her from her miserable fate. With this coin, he would exchange his lifelong wish for Ah Nu’s freedom.

 

The copper coin floated gently from his palm, landing squarely in the center of the stage, into Ah Nu’s outstretched hands. She sat dazed on the stage, eyes foggy with confusion and disbelief as she took the coin. Carved onto its surface was a single, jagged character.

 

This misshapen character seemed to mirror Ah Chou’s own visage, grinning happily down at her.

 

“Ah Chou!” Ah Nu trembled, her red lips quivering as tears clouded her eyes. She clutched the ‘ugly’ copper coin, and suddenly, the tears began to fall like rain.