Mountain peaks stretched endlessly with towering trees. A convoy traveled along the mountain path, and as they approached a gorge ahead, the entire group became tense.

That place was already difficult to traverse, and recently it had been quite unsafe. They had to be extremely careful when passing through.

“Everyone, stay alert—once we pass Ghost Face Cliff, we’ll be fine,” the leader shouted.

This was a merchant caravan with board carts piled high with goods for this trip.

Just this one round trip would earn them several hundred taels of silver, enough to live comfortably for quite a while. However, they had to face the risk of bandits.

Wealth comes from taking risks—for these men who had been traveling merchants for half their lives, it was certainly worth it.

The convoy drew closer and closer to Ghost Face Cliff. The guards quietly placed their hands on their sword hilts, their palms damp with cold, clammy sweat.

Step by step they approached, the convoy growing more tense, gradually taut like a fully drawn bow. It seemed any disturbance would release the arrow from the string.

This season, the vegetation was lush. A breeze passed through the gorge entrance, bringing a symphony of various insect calls, though no one appreciated it at the moment.

Finally, under such tension, they successfully passed Ghost Face Cliff. The people in the convoy couldn’t help but breathe sighs of relief, smiles appearing at the corners of their mouths.

However, before the smiles had fully spread across their faces, sharp arrows came whistling through the air, followed immediately by rolling stones tumbling down.

“Protect the goods! Protect the goods!” The originally orderly convoy instantly fell into chaos.

The stones falling from above ultimately blocked the caravan’s path while claiming two lives and injuring several people.

Groans rose and fell as unease spread through the caravan. The guards, unable to advance or retreat, gripped their long swords tightly as fear took root in their hearts.

Laughter rang out, and soon over ten men appeared, holding bows and arrows as they stood on the stone pile, looking down at the trapped convoy like caged beasts.

The convoy immediately erupted in commotion.

“Money or your lives?” The bandit leader held a gleaming long sword and asked with a sinister grin.

Everyone in the convoy retreated together.

“Retreat? Where can you retreat to? I’ll count to three—either leave the goods and you can go, or all of you stay!” The bandit leader was quite satisfied looking at the goods piled high on the board carts and shouted with full vigor: “One, two, three—”

Each number uttered was like a death warrant to the trapped people.

When “three” was spoken and the caravan showed no response, the bandit leader waved his hand and commanded sternly: “Kill them all!”

With a thud, the caravan people successively knelt, trembling as they said: “Spare our lives, heroes! Spare our lives! We don’t want these goods—we’ll offer them to you heroes!”

“That’s more like it. Now get lost!”

The caravan people fled like rats.

The bandits jumped down from the stones and began sorting through their spoils.

A strange sound came—like a sharp, urgent whistle. Soon, an arrow accompanied the whistle sound, striking straight into the bandit leader’s heart.

The bandit leader screamed and fell.

“Boss—” The bandits were shocked, raising their swords and looking around. “Who? Which bastard is ambushing us?”

Among the bandits, a scholarly-looking man’s face suddenly changed dramatically, his voice trembling: “Whistling, whistling arrow!”

At these words, the bandits all changed color.

Recently, there had been an elusive expert who specialized in shooting down these outlaws, never missing his target. So far, no one had seen this expert’s true face—they only knew his arrows were special, making a whistle-like sound when shot.

The whistling sound rang out again, and soon a second arrow whooshed in, claiming another life.

“Retreat—” The bandits panicked and retreated like a tide.

The mountain path instantly became quiet, with only the remaining corpses reminding people of what had just occurred.

After a while, the caravan members hiding nearby cautiously poked out their heads.

After waiting a bit longer and confirming that the bandits had indeed fled far away, they hurried back and cheered joyfully at the goods left in place.

“Let’s go quickly!” After the celebration, the caravan leader reminded everyone to quickly leave this place of trouble.

“Big brother, look over there.”

Following his subordinate’s reminder, the caravan leader looked and saw a figure in black robes that had somehow appeared on the rocky pile.

The person was tall and slender, wearing a bamboo hat that concealed his features, holding a black bow that gleamed coldly in the sunlight.

“It’s the person who saved us.”

The caravan leader thought for a moment, stepped forward a few paces, and bowed deeply: “Thank you, hero, for saving us.”

“One hundred taels of silver.”

“What?” The caravan leader suspected he had misheard and stared blankly at the mysterious man standing on the large stone.

The man’s voice sounded very young, with a kind of clean innocence. He earnestly reminded: “Gratitude payment.”

“Huh?” The caravan leader questioned again.

He might be dreaming—perhaps that group of bandits hadn’t left yet!

“Didn’t you want to express thanks?” the man reminded again, his tone already showing some impatience.

“Yes, yes, thank you, hero, for saving us.”

“Then where’s the gratitude payment?”

The entire convoy fell silent.

They’d never heard of someone actively collecting payment after saving people!

The man seemed to be growing impatient. He tilted his head and called out loudly: “Hey, you robbers from just now, you might as well come back.”

This shout was quite loud, echoing through the mountain valley.

The caravan people nearly knelt.

“Thank you, thank you, hero, for saving us.” The caravan leader fought the urge to faint and handed over one hundred taels of silver.

The man glanced at it, put the silver away, slung his bow and arrows over his shoulder, and said coldly: “Let’s go.”

“Ah?”

“I’ll escort you to a safe place.”

This time, the caravan people showed genuine smiles and thanked him repeatedly.

Fine, one hundred taels of silver was like hiring a top-notch bodyguard.

The man’s thin lips curved slightly. Without saying a word, he turned and strode forward.

People were mostly strange—he had helped them recover much silver, yet they were reluctant to give one hundred taels. It seemed like doing good deeds not only shouldn’t involve taking money, but ideally should involve paying out of one’s pocket to be reasonable.

At a small rented courtyard on the west side of Fuping Town, kept clean and tidy, a young woman in simple clothing sat under a crabapple tree in the yard, embroidering flowers.

A woman in her thirties or forties hung freshly washed clothes on the drying line, turned her head, and smiled: “Madam, you should rest. Otherwise, when your husband returns and sees this, he’ll feel distressed again.”

Just then, the courtyard gate creaked open, and a handsome man carrying a bamboo hat walked in.

The woman knew the rules, curtsied to the man, and quickly left. After exiting the courtyard gate, she was still sighing: Being born beautiful is truly a blessing. The Long family isn’t much better off than ordinary families, yet the man treats his wife like the apple of his eye, hiring people to do all the rough work.

Oh my, in her next life, she wanted to be reborn as a beautiful little lady too.

“You’re back,” Zhenzhen looked up from under the crabapple tree and smiled at Long Ying approaching.

Long Ying took silver from his chest and handed it to Zhenzhen: “One hundred taels.”

Zhenzhen quickly took it and counted rapidly.

“The harvest is quite good this time.”

Long Ying obediently crouched beside Zhenzhen. Hearing her praise, he couldn’t help showing his white teeth: “Mm, we’ve saved enough travel money. I can take you to play in the north now.”

Upon hearing this, Zhenzhen couldn’t help clapping: “Let’s go north then. These past few years, we’ve traveled to many places—we haven’t seen the northern scenery yet.”

The next day, when the helper woman came to the small courtyard again, she discovered it was already empty, with only a piece of broken silver left where they usually hid the key.

On the suburban official road, a young man led a donkey at a leisurely pace. A woman wearing a veiled hat sat on the donkey’s back.

“Long Ying,” Zhenzhen, sitting on the donkey’s back, called out.

“Yes?”

“What do you think is in the north?”

Long Ying thought carefully: “There are tigers. When the time comes, I’ll hunt a tiger and make you a tiger-skin skirt. How about that?”

Zhenzhen lifted the white gauze in front of her and glanced at him: “Fool, I don’t want to wear a tiger-skin skirt!”

“Good, good, whatever you want to wear, I’ll hunt for you. How about snow fox?”

“That’s acceptable.”

The morning sun had just risen. The young couple, bathed in gentle orange sunlight, gradually traveled farther along the official road.