Young Master Qin, slinging a travel bundle over his shoulder, sat atop his horse with an air of utmost leisure as he rode away from the small southern town. One look at him, and you'd never guess he was a man on the run.
Then again, maybe he hadn't run into his pursuers yet—so the sense of danger hadn't kicked in.
Up on the third-floor balcony of the Four Seas Inn, the young boss watched Qin ride off into the distance from a private suite with wide, open windows. He turned to Zhuo Feifan beside him and asked, "Did you find out where he's headed?"
Zhuo Feifan nodded. "I did. The brat still thinks I'm his friend. He told me himself he's heading north, to the Ironblood Howling Fortress."
The boss gave a small nod. "I'll be departing for the capital soon. Luo'er should be arriving today—she's on the road with three of my top ten guards. They're traveling by land, so even though the journey's longer, they should make decent time. But I can't wait for them—I'll return by boat. Have Luo'er and the three guards catch up to Qin as fast as they can. I want him in our hands before he steps foot in that fortress."
Zhuo Feifan nodded once more. "Don't worry, Boss. I'll see it done."
The Casanova crossed the river at the ferry port, even bringing his horse onto a broad barge made for animals and men alike. After fifteen minutes, he was across the vast Nu River.
From the northern bank, he looked back. That picture-perfect southern town was already nothing more than a dot in the distance—a tiny smear of memory in the painting of his journey.
"I wonder if I'll ever run into Ruomei again," he mused aloud. "No phones, no internet... not easy to keep in touch in this damn world. Probably no chance of seeing her again. But hey, there are plenty of beauties in the world. This was just a sweet little memory on the road. I, Third Young Master of the Qin Clan, was born to roam through gardens full of flowers!"
Laughing, he spurred his horse forward. Southern girls were a treat, but what about the beauties up north? Maybe the Ironblood Howling Fortress had some surprises waiting for him too.
Of course, viewing life as a string of romantic conquests might sound carefree and fun—but fate had its own ideas. Sometimes the hunter becomes the hunted. Sometimes the flower picks you.
Not every woman in the world was willing to lie down for him. Besides Piao Piao, who loved him with all her heart, and Xiangyue, whom he'd redeemed from a brothel, how many women would happily strip down and spread themselves out for him on their own?
Those tales of girls throwing themselves at your feet with a wiggle of your finger? Pure fantasy.
Sure, three peerless beauties had him in their sights. Unfortunately, two of them wanted him dead, and the third might want both his body and his life.
Luckily, the two assassins hadn't expected Qin—who should've been fleeing—to dawdle for seven full days in a small town by the ferry.
While the two women dashed across the river and were already nearing the fortress, Qin had only just crossed. With more than 2,000 li left to go, even at 100 li a day, it would take him over twenty days to arrive.
Whether that was good luck or bad luck... who could say?
After crossing the river, Qin loafed along the official road for half a day before his laziness kicked in. In a northern town by the ferry, he bought himself a luxurious carriage and hired a driver named Qiao Wei for a generous 500 taels of silver, promising to be taken all the way to the Ironblood Howling Fortress in Yan Province.
Qiao Wei looked honest on the outside but was sharp on the inside. Seeing how generous and well-dressed his new boss was, he immediately switched into flattery mode—personally taking care of everything at each stop, making sure Qin was pampered like royalty. In just a few days, he had wormed his way into his master's good graces.
Qin, of course, saw through all of it. But flattery is flattery—everyone likes it. And Third Young Master Qin was no exception. Every meal, every rest stop, he made sure Qiao Wei was well-fed and well-treated. Sometimes, when they passed through a bustling city and Qin was in high spirits, he'd even take Qiao Wei to high-end brothels for some fun.
Now Qiao Wei, used to rough food and cheap drinks, and the occasional rank prostitute from back-alley dens, had never known such pleasures. As the days passed, he began to view himself as Qin's trusted servant, dreaming that maybe this rich young master would make him a permanent member of his retinue—free meals, endless pleasure, and luxury forevermore.
One evening, Qiao Wei was driving the carriage while chatting with his master. He sipped occasionally from a polished brass wine flask worth fifty taels, filled with thirty-year-old Fire Dragon Wine—going for a hundred taels per ounce. This flask held half a jin, worth a cool five hundred taels.
Qiao Wei couldn't have dreamed of owning such a thing. But thanks to Third Young Master Qin—who had both bought the wine and gifted the flask—it was his to enjoy. He polished it seventeen times a day, till it gleamed like a mirror.
In the Qin Empire, there were no rules against driving drunk. Even if you were utterly smashed while driving a carriage, as long as you didn't kill anyone important, you'd be fine—especially with someone like Qin backing you. Besides, there was no such thing as a driver's license anyway.
As dusk approached, a small town appeared in the distance. Qiao Wei turned and asked whether they should find an inn for the night.
Qin was unpredictable—sometimes he liked to rest during the day and travel by night, sometimes the opposite. If the scenery was nice, he might even have them camp on the roadside and call it "enjoying life."
Of course, the carriage was well-equipped: fine blankets and quilts, good wine, fresh fruit, smoked meat, grains, pastries, and every cooking tool imaginable—grills, steamers, pots, pans, plates, bowls, chopsticks—you name it. It was practically a rolling feast, perfect for wild camping.
Qin was eccentric, and chatty. Astronomy, geography—he seemed to know everything, and he loved to talk. Though he'd been useless in his past life, having mastered nothing with his hands, he had learned a lot. In this life, he made up for his past silence by talking nonstop.
With Qiao Wei, who knew a little about everything but mastered nothing, Qin was more than happy to ramble on. And every time Qiao Wei looked at him with awe and admiration, Qin felt a little surge of pride.
When Qiao Wei asked if they should stop, Qin lazily replied, "You decide, Brother Wei. Today, you're the steward."
Every time he called Qiao Wei "Brother Wei," a wicked thought crossed Qin's mind—If I ever overindulge and go impotent, I'll grind you up into a little blue pill and see if you work.
Fortunately, impotence wasn't in the cards for him. Between raging lust and his secret martial arts techniques, Third Young Master Qin could go strong to his dying breath.
So Qiao Wei was safe... for now.
Grinning, Qiao Wei said, "So, you're playing hands-off master again, huh? Well, this town's the last one before the provincial capital—another three days ahead. After that, we'll finally have beds again. I say we stay the night here."
"Sounds good," said Qin. "Brother Wei, how many days till we reach Yan Province?"
Qiao Wei did some mental math. "From here, about three to four days to the provincial capital, and then five more after that. Call it nine days total."
Qin grinned. "Say, Brother Wei—any good brothels in this town?"
Qiao Wei winced. "Eh... this place is tiny. Not much here. There are two brothels, but they're dirt-level cheap. Fine for a guy like me, but they'd be an insult to your dignity, Young Master."
"Pah! Shame on you!" Qin barked. "You're my man now! If people hear my carriage driver's been whoring in low-end brothels, they'll think I've gone broke! That I can't even afford decent prostitutes for my servants! How am I supposed to save face?"
"Yes, yes! You're right, Young Master—I was out of line!" Qiao Wei took the scolding with a happy heart. Being chewed out like this meant Qin saw him as one of his own. What more could he ask?
Chatting all the way, the carriage rolled into town.
The place was pitiful—smaller even than the southern town Qin had stayed in before.
It was April, and with no rain for ten days, the sun had baked the central dirt road into cracked, dusty patches. The slightest breeze sent clouds of grit into the air.
The town gate was laughable—just a mound of compacted dirt. The houses inside were little more than yellow mud walls with broken roof tiles.
At least the town was honest. Above the gate was a plaque that openly declared its nature: "Mud Town."
As the carriage passed through the arch, a wave of noise hit them. Shouts rose in the air.
"Something's happening!"
Qin, tipsy and relaxed, heard the commotion and lifted the curtain. "Brother Wei, what's going on?"
Qiao Wei squinted into the dust-choked air, looking up at the town wall. "Something's happening up there! Looks like a duel—a man and a woman. Damn, that guy's handsome! And that woman—wow! I've never seen anyone that beautiful! Not even the top girls from those fancy brothels we visited!"
That got Qin's attention. He dove into the carriage, grabbed a wine jar and a few plates of peanuts and dried beef, then scrambled up to the roof of the carriage.
Perched up high, he poured himself a drink and stared up at the wall.
"Brother Wei, get up here! Drinking, eating, watching beauties and brawls—this is what life's all about!"