Volume One: The Hidden Dragon in the Depths Chapter 115: Pressure

Recently, Xu Qing had to travel even farther to hunt animals, then head to the county seat to sell their pelts. With the money earned, he bought flint, salt, and tea leaves. Meat was greasy and oily, so salted tea was essential to aid digestion and cut through the heaviness.

There were other impoverished children in the village as well. Since a certain time, Han Keru asked him to bring others along, so they could watch out for one another.

In a place like this, such human kindness—mutual support—made Xu Qing feel especially warm.

He called out to the girl at the village entrance, hoisted the medicine basket onto his back, and set off together, ensuring they had someone to watch over them.

The county town lay backed by mountains and faced by water, with tributaries running through and several stone bridges connecting the area. Shops and merchants gathered here.

Two children followed them closely, especially Yan Shuyi, who was always brimming with enthusiasm.

Together, they first went to a pharmacy in their village known for its solid reputation and fair dealings, where they helped unload the medicine basket and placed it on the counter.

The shopkeeper, surnamed Zou, was warm and courteous, but his eyes scrutinized the contents of the basket with a critical gaze, clearly unimpressed by the quality of the herbs inside.

For some reason, Yan Mo also grew tense, unsure of how to react.

In the end, the shopkeeper selected about a dozen herbs and quoted a price of five hundred copper coins. “This is all we’ll take; you can take the rest back.”

“That’s far too little,” Yan Mo blurted out.

He understood the hardships of poor families who needed money to buy rice and salt.

But the next moment, Xu Qing slapped him on the back. “Kids don’t understand; they speak without thinking.”

Xu Qing himself thought the offer was fair enough.

These herbs weren’t especially rare or precious. If they were unwilling to accept even this, there would be no money left to save lives.

“You little brat, can’t you understand how hard your mother works?” Xu Qing thought.

After some consideration, he pushed the remaining herbs back to the shopkeeper and demanded another hundred coins. The girl was moved by his generosity.

The rural girl’s knowledge was limited; at best, she knew half as much as Xu Qing. Simply finding valuable herbs in the mountains each day could make life comfortable.

Xu Qing’s occasional help was natural, and he had led others into the mountains before.

But if he had to help endlessly, it would become a burden.

He shifted the quiet little girl into his arms and casually asked, “How do you collect bear gallbladders?”

The shopkeeper brightened immediately, eyes sparkling. “You have bear gallbladders on hand?”

Xu Qing nodded and pulled one out for him to see.

No one present could tell where he had hidden it, especially Yan Mo, who remained baffled.

He placed a shriveled bear gallbladder on the counter—about the size of a child’s face.

Yan Shuyi’s round eyes blinked curiously.

Bear gallbladders had immense medicinal value, considered a precious traditional Chinese medicine. Bitter in taste and cold in nature, they cleared heat and toxins, relieved spasms and pain, calmed the mind, improved eyesight, cleared the liver, moistened the lungs, and killed parasites. They were used to treat pediatric convulsions, malnutrition, red swollen eyes, eye obstructions, throat ulcers, jaundice, gallstone colic, stomach pain, diarrhea, abscesses, hemorrhoids, and other ailments.

The earliest mention appeared in the “Treatise on the Properties of Medicines.”

The “Tang Materia Medica” noted that bear gallbladder “treats epidemic heat, jaundice, prolonged summer diarrhea, malnutrition, and heart pain.”

The “Rihua Zi Materia Medica” stated: “Treats malnutrition, ear and nose ulcers, malignant sores, and kills parasites.”

The “Dietary Materia Medica” said it “treats pediatric convulsions, clears phlegm from the heart, very effective.”

The “Compendium of Materia Medica” recorded that bear gallbladder “reduces fever, calms the heart, soothes the liver, clears vision and eye obstructions, kills roundworms and pinworms.”

Among common folk, bamboo sap was often used to dissolve bear gallbladder; taken internally, it treated jaundice, and applied externally to the eyes, it cured redness and obstructions. It was especially miraculous applied to hemorrhoids.

Such medicines were rare in this region of Huaguo.

But rare as it was, hunting bears was no ordinary hunter’s feat!

Looking at this young man before him, one truly sensed a hidden depth.

Smart children like Yan Mo understood how difficult this was.

Xu Qing never took them hunting—he didn’t want them exposed to those scenes. The result was what mattered.

They would return carrying bloodied animal carcasses, guts spilled, skins peeled for meat.

Old hunters in the village said that wolves and jackals seemed to have grown scarcer, wandering farther away for unknown reasons.

Old Zou carefully took the gallbladder, holding it up to the light for a long moment before nodding. “Good quality. Worth about five taels.”

Yan Mo and the others were impressed.

Five taels earned so easily was no small sum.

Yet bear gallbladders were not easy to come by.

“I want official silver—ten taels!” Xu Qing said firmly. “I don’t want to waste time haggling. Otherwise, I’ll take it to Dengzhou Prefecture and get twelve taels.”

The shopkeeper sighed, realizing this was no amateur; there was no fooling him.

Xu Qing produced a silver ingot, and Yan Mo had never seen so much money before—it was a fortune.

Along the way, he bought the little girl many snacks and toys, especially a silver hairpin for Han Keru.

“Brother Xu, did you know from the start that the bear gallbladder was worth so much?” Yan Mo asked.

“I’m not sure about local prices,” Xu Qing shook his head.

“Oh…” Yan Mo was surprised.

“As long as your spirit isn’t weaker than others’, that’s enough. Didn’t you think I knew what I was doing just now? That’s why I want you to study abroad.” Xu Qing spoke slowly, “Reading books is pointless if you don’t see the world. Traveling isn’t just about admiring green mountains and clear waters; it’s about understanding people and customs everywhere. A shallow tour is not truly traveling.”

Yan Mo nodded, finding this very reasonable.

…

Outside, the bleak scene stretched beneath the howling wind, filling one with despair.

Chen Ying was unwilling to accept defeat. This failure was merely a misstep, not a sign of inferiority.

The group’s spirits sank, silence heavy around them.

They had planned carefully, yet their entire army’s surprise attack on the barbarian forces failed, nearly suffering devastating losses before retreating to the city in time.

“Sir, we should wait for the allied forces from the other states,” a subordinate general advised.

Chen Ying nodded. That was the only option.

The barbarians had besieged the city for days; inside, chaos and tension reigned. Few truly grasped the full situation outside Luocheng.

Fortunately, the hundreds of thousands of soldiers and civilians were united, determined to fight the barbarians to the death.

Yet even someone of Chen Ying’s rank struggled to gauge the state of the battle outside.

The future was unpredictable.

The allied states would not fail to unite, but no messengers had arrived, and their own envoys had received no replies.

This meant the other states were likely faring poorly.

If the states fought separately, they would be at a severe disadvantage.

Soon, the alarm sounded, raising everyone’s tension to a peak. Sleep was restless; food was unappealing.

At the alarm, all troops mobilized immediately.

Ten thousand soldiers formed a square formation: one thousand shield bearers at the front, one thousand archers behind them, and eight thousand infantry further back, all advancing upon Luocheng.

Hundreds of siege ladders were brought along.

This time, the barbarians had improved; they came prepared.

Yet, no matter how one looked at it, their assault was like striking a stone with an egg—futile against the fierce firepower of the Xia soldiers.

However, soon it became clear that these barbarians were formidable. The more muscular among them could climb several stories high, scaling the city gates with their bare hands, causing chaos and heavy losses among the Xia troops.

A rain of crossbow bolts followed, bringing grievous casualties.

The barbarian vanguard finally fell, collapsing like a small mountain.

The sun was nearly set, a brilliant sunset gathering on the western horizon.

A crescent moon appeared in the streaks of crimson clouds.

The sunset was endlessly beautiful, yet darkness was falling.

The barbarians nearly stepped over their fallen comrades, piling bodies as if forming steps to climb higher.

The fierce cries of the Japanese pirate ranks charged forward, fearless of death, shouting and swinging their blades.

The city walls thundered beneath their blows, the momentum tremendous.

Shield in hand, soldiers braced against arrows and falling logs and stones.

The clashing of weapons, flashes of blades and spears, and pools of blood filled the air.

Chen Ying stood atop the city wall beside the great banner, cutting down each barbarian who dared approach.

Finally, he stood silently by the flagpole, speechless, quietly watching the charging ranks below.

The barbarians gathered in greater numbers, enemies growing stronger.

What truly astonished the soldiers was that Chen Ying held firm beneath that great banner.

As long as the flag stood, the Han army would not be defeated!

The sounds of battle seemed distant to him; only one voice echoed in his ears—the poem Wang Chuan composed for him last:

“Though separated by seas, true friends are as close as neighbors.”

That was their finest friendship.

Awakened by the call, Chen Ying raised his sword and shouted, flung open the city gate, and led the cavalry charge.

“Slay the invading barbarians!”