Volume Two: The Bandits Here Chapter 127: A Streak of Ashen White

The next day, a caravan departed from Sishan. The young man at the lead turned back, waving his arms vigorously; he looked as though he might be crying quite ungracefully.

"Look at that, the little thing Lin Peiyou is crying so bitterly. You really should have comforted him; he’s just a child, and they tend to take many things to heart," Liu Qingshan said, stroking his beard while keeping his eyes fixed on Lin Changtian.

Lin Changtian nodded, fully agreeing with the sentiment. "Indeed. I snatched the horse he brought along and even tricked the brat by saying I was going to slaughter the beast. As it turns out... well, you see, he is just a child after all, and he took it seriously, didn't he?"

Liu Qingshan was left dumbfounded, unable to speak for a long moment. Lin Changtian laughed heartily, watched the caravan disappear from view, and then turned back toward the mountain.

In the council chamber of Anma City:

"Things have been increasingly unsettled lately. The number of passing merchants has dwindled significantly; they find our city chaotic and foul-smelling."

Only two people remained in the vast room: Zhao Zileng and Du Zhaolin. One was dressed in deep azure, the other in pristine white. The azure was as dark as the night, the white as drifting snow. It was the man in azure who spoke.

Du Zhaolin stared blankly at the man in azure, lost in thought for a long time before replying with a non-sequitur: "You have been promoted very quickly of late."

"Thanks to your favor," Zhao Zileng said with a smile, hastily bowing with great reverence.

"Your own capability is what matters; what does that have to do with anyone else?" Du Zhaolin waved his hand, not daring to accept the gesture.

The night was very dark, and Zhao Zileng was wearing dark azure robes, so no matter how much Du Zhaolin probed, he could not discern the expression on his face. Neither man spoke, and a long, heavy silence settled between them.

After a while, Zhao Zileng finally broke the silence. He spoke softly, neither servile nor overbearing: "My lord, I have heard that a city has been established over at Sishan!"

He emphasized the words "established a city" heavily, as if deliberately picking at a scab.

Du Zhaolin’s expression shifted. His white robes were striking in the darkness, especially when he grinned. "I know! You call that establishing a city? That is a proclamation to the Northern Territory that their city was built upon the bones of the North. It is a slap in our faces!" Du Zhaolin sneered, clutching the edge of the table as he struggled to suppress his rage.

Zhao Zileng pursed his lips, his expression somewhat strange. He was not originally from the Northern Territory, so naturally, he did not share the same indignation as the people of Anma City. However, it seemed this gentleman was quite inflamed lately; his gums were noticeably swollen.

Thinking of this, he pointed toward the corner of Du Zhaolin’s mouth and said, "My lord, when you 'sneer,' it is best not to show your teeth. Otherwise... it lacks decorum."

"Hmph!" Du Zhaolin glared, flicking his sleeves. "Zhao Zileng, how long have you been an official? You dare to comment on my appearance!"

"My lord, please be discerning; I have no such intentions!" Zhao Zileng said hurriedly. After stammering for a moment, he pointed toward Du Zhaolin’s mouth again. "It is just... there is a bit of vegetable stuck in your teeth from your meal, which is not a good look..."

Du Zhaolin’s face flushed red. He gave a cold snort and, feigning composure, swirled his tongue around for quite a while.

After a long time, Zhao Zileng could not hold back, suppressing a laugh as he asked, "My lord, do you need a toothpick? I happen to have one right here. Do not let your tongue suffer any longer."

Du Zhaolin did not respond. He snorted coldly, watching intently as Zhao Zileng produced a toothpick. Once the "salvation" tool appeared, Du Zhaolin snatched it away and began to use it gingerly.

"My lord is truly... 'denying it in words but honest in action,'" Zhao Zileng twitched his eyes, grumbling.

The result was predictable: Du Zhaolin shot him a sideways glance and snorted again.

"My lord, are you enjoying the toothpick?"

"Hmph!"

"My lord, once you are finished... please return it to me."

"Hmph!"

"My lord! Would it kill you to say one more word?"

Du Zhaolin tucked the toothpick into his robes and, looking at Zhao Zileng, said very seriously, "Hmm, hmph?"

Zhao Zileng regretted opening his mouth; he had lost his toothpick and gained nothing for his trouble.

"What is the name of that city?" Du Zhaolin asked contentedly, completely ignoring his subordinate’s sour expression. Well, he couldn't see it in the dark anyway.

Zhao Zileng looked at him suspiciously, confused, and probed, "How could you not know? You were talking about it just the other day. You even mentioned how some mischievous child in the city dug a hole in the south, causing a passerby to fall in... You know all about such trivial matters, let alone such earth-shattering news?"

"Nonsense! The one who fell in the hole was me!" Du Zhaolin said irritably, rubbing his left leg; the site of the injury still ached faintly.

Zhao Zileng: ...

"Besides," Du Zhaolin paused, eyes narrowing, and said coldly, "I have been busy trying to persuade the Grand Marshal these past few days, as you well know."

"Is the Grand Marshal still the same... wallowing in wine and women, singing day and night?" Zhao Zileng lowered his head, whether to show deference or to hide something, it was unclear.

As the words fell, Du Zhaolin’s expression darkened. He walked to the window and looked toward the center of Anma City, where it was bustling with activity. Courtesans played at elegance, drunkards brawled, and wastrels threw away fortunes, all laughing amidst the chaos. As for the noble families, they had shed their masks, one by one revealing their "true nature."

Du Zhaolin shook his head and sneered, "This period is likely when the Grand Marshal and the noble families are at their most intimate. Sworn brothers, a pack of fox friends and dog companions; it is only the commoners of the city who suffer."

"My lord, the commoners of the city resent you," Zhao Zileng said earnestly, taking every word to heart, and then... said exactly that, right under Du Zhaolin's murderous gaze.

Surprisingly, the hot-tempered and vengeful Du Zhaolin remained silent. He felt guilty, and for the sake of that remorse, he had made countless efforts—such as trying to persuade his Grand Marshal to reclaim his ambition and stir up his might, to turn the tide with a wave of his hand.

Du Zhaolin stumbled. The city was bathed in ten thousand lights, but in his eyes, there was only a shade of grey.

"Zileng, you tell me, how did this territory end up like this? Having suffered such a defeat, should we not be sleeping on brushwood and tasting gall, exerting ourselves to wash away the shame? How has it become... a portrait of a flourishing world?"

Zhao Zileng thought about it. The question was not difficult, but it was a pity that the people in Anma City would never understand. However, he admired Du Zhaolin, so he spoke slowly: "Many losers, after losing their capital to play the game, will try to 'sleep on brushwood and taste gall,' but the taste is so bitter that it makes one wonder whether to give up or not..."

Du Zhaolin listened, then gave a hollow laugh, interrupting abruptly. "Are you saying that a hero who could once stand against a million men has now lost his nerve? That he is willing to become a foul worm in the mud, content to rot and fester?"

"Precisely so." Zhao Zileng’s expression was indifferent; no trace of anything could be seen on his face.

In the dark of the night, even if the corners of his mouth turned up in a brazen smirk, as long as he remained silent, no one would care. The only righteous gentleman left in the city was this very thief who was currently suffering such scorn.

He did not speak. He closed his eyes, then slowly opened them again, repeating this several times, looking visibly pained.

"To hell with it all!" Du Zhaolin, who had been silent for a long time, suddenly shouted, startling Zhao Zileng so much that the snack in his hand fell to the floor.

Zhao Zileng’s eyes widened suddenly; this was the midnight snack he had meticulously prepared. *Don't be angry, don't be angry, think of the bigger picture, you're living under someone else's roof... to hell with it!* Zhao Zileng consoled himself, but the more he thought, the angrier he became. Suddenly, he snapped and grabbed Du Zhaolin by the collar, cursing: "If you don't compensate me for this today, believe it or not, I will splatter my blood right here and fight you to the death!"

"Every inn and tavern in the city, eat as much as you like for a week, all on my tab," Du Zhaolin said, shaking off the hand on his collar with calm indifference.

Zhao Zileng curled his lip. Was he the type of person to be bought off by a few meals?

"Add another week!" He held up two fingers in front of Du Zhaolin, "arguing" for his rights.

"Deal," Du Zhaolin said softly, the corners of his mouth rising in a rare, genuine smile.

Zhao Zileng was very happy. He scratched his head, seemingly realizing the hierarchy between himself and Du Zhaolin again, and immediately put on a flattering, fawning expression.

"There is one more thing you, wretch, must tell me." Du Zhaolin wiped away his smile, returning to his indifferent facade, and said very seriously: "I know the origins and backgrounds of all the officials and noble families in Anma City perfectly well. But you, Zhao Zileng, are a complete mystery."

Zhao Zileng’s expression remained unchanged as he smiled: "My background is humble, a man from the countryside. It is not worth your attention; if you think about it, it is actually quite normal."

"Ordinary noble officials could never have secured a connection with the Yu clan, let alone a man who possesses a keener insight into the current situation than I do. Are you truly just a village bumpkin?" Du Zhaolin shot him a sideways glance, smiling mockingly.

Zhao Zileng’s eyes sharpened. He pursed his lips and said nonchalantly: "Perhaps you underestimate the heroes of the world, or perhaps you overestimate yourself."

"Hmph!" Du Zhaolin retreated, abandoning the thought of further questioning, and turned to leave.

Zhao Zileng shook his head, smiling bitterly at his back: "Now is a time of great upheaval. Since both you and I have our own agendas, why not conspire together?"

"I fear it would be like 'asking a tiger for its hide,' and in the end, I, Du Zhaolin, would be left to bear the infamy!"

"Everyone has greed. Because of greed and desire, everyone in the world has their weaknesses and is thus controlled by others. How about I tell you what my greed is?" Zhao Zileng leaned in, bowing his head to listen, waiting for Du Zhaolin’s reply.

Neither man spoke again, and for a time, silence took the upper hand.

After a long while, Du Zhaolin pursed his lips and said coldly: "Don't tell me your only desire is gluttony."

"That would not be the case," Zhao Zileng said with a smile, slowly beginning to speak...