Dao Qi Wu Zang Guan Guan: I became a Daoist Master in the 1990s

Chapter 51 Delivering Grain Up the Mountain (Bonus Chapter for readers who love reading and keep reading!)
Qi Yun changed her clothes and pushed open the wooden door.

Outside the door, Song Laoshuan stood with his back hunched over, his withered hands gripping the jujube wood cane tightly. Behind him stood several strong men, including Song Laosan and Wang Laoliu, each with a heavy, ashen expression on their faces.

Behind them, several old oxen stood silently in the cool morning breeze, pulling a cart piled high with bulging sacks.

As soon as Qi Yun came out, several pairs of eyes were fixed on him.

“Young man,” Old Song took half a step forward, “to tell you the truth, our village is about to send grain to those kings on Black Wind Mountain.”

He uttered the word "Your Majesty" with difficulty, his cloudy old eyes staring straight at Qi Yun with an almost pleading humility.

"You are an outsider who has seen the world and you can speak well. You are a million times better than us country bumpkins who toil in the fields and can't even speak properly!"
"This old man is shamelessly begging you, could you please take the people from our village on this trip?"

His withered, twig-like fingers trembled as he pointed to several men behind him who also had ashen faces, especially Song Laosan, whose neck was stiff and whose eyes were filled with resentment.

"I'm afraid these clueless fools will say the wrong thing once they get to the mountain, angering those kings and losing their lives there!"

Old Song's voice trembled violently, "Don't worry! It's just a matter of delivering the grain up the mountain, getting it to the destination, handing over the payment, and then coming down immediately!"
I'll definitely be back before dark! I swear on my life! I'm not lying to you!
We definitely won't let you make a wasted trip!

He hurriedly added, his withered hands unconsciously reaching into his clothes as if trying to pull out something valuable, but what could he possibly find in his tattered clothes?

“Old man, there’s no need for this!” Qi Yun immediately stepped forward, his voice firm and decisive, interrupting the old man’s futile groping.

"A piece of clothing may be ordinary to you, but to me it is a kindness that covers my body and protects my face!"

I was just worried about how to repay this kindness, and this small matter is exactly what I should do! No reward is needed.

"It's just a piece of clothing," Old Man Song still wanted to argue.

"To you, it is clothing; to me, it is dignity!"

Qi Yun's tone was solemn, and his gaze swept calmly over everyone, "This favor must be repaid! I will deliver this shipment of grain!"

Old Song stared intently at Qi Yun with his cloudy eyes. His lips trembled a few times, but he didn't say anything more. However, his hunched back seemed to straighten slightly.

He suddenly turned to Song Laosan and his men, his gaunt face hardening with an unprecedented sternness: "Did you all hear that? Once we get to the mountain, you'll all listen to this young man! Keep your mouths shut!"

"Keep quiet if you can! Especially you, third brother! If you dare utter another fart, I'll break your legs when we get back!"

Song Laosan shrank back when he was yelled at, and the other men nodded and nodded repeatedly in agreement.

"Young man... have you eaten yet?" Old Song turned to Qi Yun again, his tone softening.

Qi Yun quickly waved his hand: "Thank you for your concern, sir. I had already eaten before we encountered the thief."

The old man nodded, said nothing more, and simply waved his hand forcefully.

The whip cracked, and the wheels groaned as they rolled over the potholed dirt road.

The group from Songjiazhuang left the threshing ground in silence, leaving behind the old locust tree at the village entrance, its leaves all fallen.

Qi Yun was still riding that green donkey. The sound of the copper bell, "ding-ling... ding-ling..." was particularly clear and lonely in the open fields.

The group walked along the official road for a while before turning into a rugged mountain path that was mostly overgrown with weeds.

The road grew narrower and steeper, flanked by jagged cliffs and dense thickets of mixed trees. The sunlight was fragmented by the tall canopies, casting dark green shadows.

The air was filled with decaying leaves, soil, and a strange, chilly atmosphere.

Just as they reached a narrow pass at the foot of the mountain, several men wielding knives leaped out from behind jagged rocks by the roadside. Each of them had a fierce expression, their chests bare, revealing their hairy bodies. The blades gleamed coldly in the dark forest.

"What are you doing?!" a scarred man at the head of the group shouted sternly, his triangular eyes sweeping menacingly over the oxcart and the crowd.

Qi Yun immediately dismounted from the donkey, stepped forward, and put on a perfectly respectful smile. He clasped his hands and bowed, saying, "Your Majesties, you have worked hard! We are from Songjiazhuang. We have come on the orders of the village's old patriarch to deliver grain to you Your Majesties on the mountain!"

"From Songjiazhuang?" The scarred man's gaze swept over the carts of grain, then he looked at the pale-faced, timid peasants behind Qi Yun. His fierce expression softened slightly, and he let out a piercing, strange laugh.

"Hahaha! You peasants are smart enough to know your place! Unlike those idiots from Sunjia Village up ahead, who dared to try and intimidate me with the government officials! And what happened? Hey! The whole village, young and old, is probably rotten by now!"

He deliberately dragged out the melody, and was pleased to see that Song Laosan and the others' faces instantly turned ashen.

The scarred man grinned maliciously, kicked the nearest grain sack, and waved to his henchmen behind him: "You lot, keep guarding here! I'll personally escort them upstairs! Saves time."

After saying that, he jumped onto an oxcart and sat steadily on the grain sacks, as if he were sitting on his own kang (heated brick bed).

"Go!" He gestured with his chin, as if driving livestock.

Everyone felt stifled, but dared not show it in the slightest, and could only continue driving up the mountain in silence.

The mountain road became increasingly steep and difficult to traverse. The oxcart managed to make its way up for a short distance before becoming completely impassable.

"Damn it!"

The scarred man jumped out of the truck, cursing, "Unload it! Carry it all up!"

The heavy grain sacks were unloaded from the oxcart, some of them draped over the backs of donkeys, which snorted under the weight.

The rest were carried on the shoulders and backs of the group.

Without saying a word, Qi Yun took the initiative to carry a heavy bag of millet on his shoulder; it was quite heavy.

The mountain road was rugged, and everyone was panting and sweating profusely.

The scarred man followed leisurely behind, occasionally whipping the slow-moving villagers with his scabbard while hurling insults.

Qi Yun walked silently ahead.

After walking for an unknown amount of time, we turned a corner at the entrance of a mountain pass hidden by trees, and suddenly the view opened up before us.

A flat valley surrounded by mountains came into view.

Deep in the valley, clinging to the steep mountain wall, stands a mountain stronghold!
The thick logs were sharpened at the top and driven deep into the soil to form a wall more than two people high. The gaps were filled with rubble and thorns, making them look as ferocious as the fangs of a giant beast.

A few tattered black flags were sparsely stuck on the top of the wall, fluttering listlessly in the mountain wind.

The gate was made of thick, solid wood covered with rusty iron sheets. It was wide open at the moment, and two lazy henchmen stood at the entrance, leaning against the wall with their knives in their hands.

The village was in complete disarray, with dozens of crooked wooden houses and thatched huts built along the mountainside. Smoke from cooking fires and a strong smell of animal dung and sweat filled the air.

The most eye-catching thing is the tallest wooden building in the center of the village, which is quite impressive. A crooked wooden plaque hangs at the entrance, with three big, fierce characters written on it: "Hall of Gathering Righteousness"!

In front of the hall, there was a fairly flat dirt field, which was probably a place for drills or gatherings.

The entire Black Wind Stronghold exudes a savage, crude, and suffocating aura of ferocity, like a rotten sore embedded in the lush green forest.

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(End of this chapter)