My Enemy Became My Cultivation Companion-Chapter 647 - 430: To Accompany or Not (Two in One)

The nun-like girl hadn't run far before she was abruptly dragged back.

She struggled with all her might, but the brocade-robed man covered her mouth, holding her firmly despite her frantic punches and kicks.

The brocade-robed man, wary yet ingratiating, grinned and said:

"Kids don't understand manners, speaking out of turn."

As he spoke, his feet subtly moved backward, and his accompanying thugs subdued the boy, who trembled but dared not act.

Min Ning narrowed his eyes.

The brocade-robed man grew visibly tense, glancing around as his men placed their hands on their waist knives.

The swordsman stepped forward.

Cold sweat dripped from the group's foreheads, their teeth chattering audibly.

"Brothers under the same banner, we all share the same drink," Min Ning paused before speaking, "This little one looks decent. Share some money with me."

The brocade-robed man froze briefly, then wiped away his sweat and forced a laugh:

"Ah, yes, of course. Fellow brothers, which path do you hail from?"

"Golden Peak."

Golden Peak refers to the Imperial Palace, the Golden Throne. Coming from Golden Peak means coming from the Capital City. Upon hearing this coded phrase, Zhao Yuanwang understood immediately.

Initially assuming they were some righteous swordsmen standing up for justice, in the end, they turned out to be greenwood bandits from another road.

Zhao Yuanwang, who traded in human trafficking across various regions, naturally recognized Capital City's underground slang. These people seemed like outsiders, over-the-river dragons. Since they wanted a cut, it would not be wise to dismiss them lightly.

"What's the deal with these two little ones?" Min Ning asked.

"They're… um… some kind of Daoist seeds or Buddhist seeds. In short, they're gifted boys and girls meant to be sold to immortal families."

Zhao Yuanwang chuckled obsequiously, gesturing for his men to lower their weapons, intending to give some money to smooth things over.

The girl's complexion grew increasingly pale, her gaze spiraling into hopelessness.

Min Ning glanced at her briefly and said:

"Seems they're worth quite a bit of silver. Let me name my amount: thirty percent."

Zhao Yuanwang's eyes widened as his hand, halfway to his pocket, froze. Thirty percent was a significant sum that he currently couldn't afford.

One of the four men couldn't hold back and said, "This brother isn't being fair, is he? Thirty percent for just a word?"

Min Ning spoke slowly, "Ensuring your safe passage."

Zhao Yuanwang immediately glanced at the dead spider demon on the ground, deliberated a moment, then clenched his teeth and said, "Alright, thirty percent it is. Once we deliver the goods, you'll get your full share."

Min Ning curled his lips into a smile and said, "I trust you won't shortchange me."

Deliver the Buddha all the way west…

When they arrive, take them all in one sweep.

.........

That day, the great fire at Yuanfeng Building burned furiously, destroying the surrounding homes and leaving the theatrical troupe's residence charred black. 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝕨𝕖𝗯𝚗𝚘𝕧𝕖𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝕞

The troupe rented the place, and now with Yuanfeng Building in ruins, they naturally had to move out. Moreover, after the fire, Huang Jing spent all his fortune, attracting envy from those who once admired the troupe's prosperous days, as they flocked to demand money. Overwhelmed, Master Fang had come to terms with his past grandeur and now only wished to leave this trouble behind.

Shantong City remained impoverished, and with Huang Jing dead, there was no one to sustain the theatrical troupe.

The troupe's pensions naturally fell under the government's responsibility, as did those of Yuanfeng Building's servants and staff.

As for why the normally aloof county government was suddenly so accommodating, Master Fang was well aware whose influence was behind it.

"Commander Min, in our profession, we worship Emperor Tang as our patron deity. Daily practice is nothing but vocal exercises and leg drills, often training for hours on end. But even then, it's not enough to step onto the stage..."

Master Fang chatted animatedly with Chen Yi, recounting the hardships the troupe had endured over the years.

For only one reason–Chen Yi could bring them money.

Even if it was government-issued Great Yu banknotes, having pensions was better than having none. As for the recent deaths and injuries, Master Fang seemed to have set those memories aside.

In the lower rungs of society, who hasn't seen death and injury?

"Those injured and the ones who've died, how does Master Fang plan to handle them?" Chen Yi wasn't keen on idle chatter; his visit with Dong Gong Ruoshu here was not merely to check on Little Peach but to inquire into the troupe's post-disaster arrangements.

"Those injured will be given a bit of money and scattered to fend for themselves."

When money came up, Master Fang winced and rubbed his thumbs together for a while before saying:

"The ones who've died… I'll dig into my private savings to buy them decent coffins for burial… but the funerals won't be elaborate."

"Good."

Chen Yi glanced at the courtyard in front of him. Amidst the blackened ashes, nearing noon, a dining table was set out. A large bowl of hot soup, a few plates of cured meat and pickles, and some stacked naan bread made up the meal. The troupe's performers gathered together to eat, with men and women eating separately. Typically, the men ate first, followed by the women.

At the moment, it was the women's turn to eat.

The performers' appearances varied, their fair skin glowing more prominently under the tree's shadows. Chen Yi had heard that performers joining the troupe started by being locked in dark rooms for a month, emerging only after their skin had paled, their figures slimmed, and their personalities stripped of sharp edges—ready then to learn the art of performing.

"Anything Commander Min has taken a fancy to?"

Master Fang lowered his voice to ask.

Chen Yi shook his head, dismissing the unwelcome deference with:

"I'm not fond of theater."

"Ah... ah… I was presumptuous. I thought you'd taken an interest in Little Peach since you stood up for her back then."

Master Fang sighed and continued, "Everyone has their way of living, their reason for existence. Little Peach has lame legs now. From here on… she won't be able to earn a living from the troupe."

"She's taken care of, thanks to my friend. You don't need to worry about her."

"Indeed, indeed." Master Fang nodded in agreement, a faint hint of greed creeping into his tone as he added, "Little Peach was bought by the troupe for three hundred taels..."