Chapter 55: Taxes
Chapter 55: Chapter 55: Taxes
Just a joke?
Zhu Ge sat up, his face filled with lingering fear. "Raincoat Fisherman, please don’t joke like that again. You scared me to death."
"Haha, what’s there to be afraid of?" the Raincoat Fisherman laughed. "Go ahead and digest it. A low-grade Spirit Level item is more than enough to keep you busy for an hour."
"Yes!" Zhu Ge replied, looking eager.
He sat down cross-legged, closed his eyes, and began circulating his Blood Qi to aid digestion.
But in his heart, a single strand of a spider’s silk was already beginning to form.
’Almost there, but not quite...’
Zhu Ge understood perfectly. He hadn’t completely earned the man’s trust yet.
But that was fine.
A slap, then a sweet reward.
He would endure the slaps and devour the sweets.
All he had to do was wait patiently for his web to be woven.
For now, he just had to focus on digesting the "sweet."
WHOOSH—
Looking inward, Zhu Ge felt that wisp of Blood Qi surge through his physical body like a tidal wave, nourishing his torso and internal organs.
He had only just reached the First Realm last night and had not yet begun practicing the Great Sun Glaze Body, so this wisp of Blood Qi was incredibly faint.
However, after eating the Deep Blue Fruit and its leaves, wisps of Blood Qi had actually begun to generate within his body, merging with that original strand.
’It’s really working!’
Although the nourishment was faint, Zhu Ge could feel a marked improvement in his body, and even the crimson tint in his eyes had faded considerably.
He guided the wisp of Blood Qi through his vessels, nourishing his entire body and drawing out even more energy from the Deep Blue Fruit and its leaves from every corner of his being.
Before he knew it, an hour had passed.
When he opened his eyes, he was surrounded by swirling clouds and mist, yet there was no sound of wind at all.
"What is..." Zhu Ge seemed to jump in fright, his body shooting to his feet. "We’re so high up!"
"Haha, once you reach the Third Realm, you too can fly with the aid of a Spiritual Artifact." The Raincoat Fisherman’s face held a trace of contempt and disdain as he watched him.
"You should know that without me, you could live your entire life and never have the chance to admire the view from this sea of clouds."
"I am forever grateful, Fisherman!" Zhu Ge knelt and prostrated himself fully. "I can never repay your kindness, nor will I ever forget it!"
"Hahaha, your style of prostration is rather unique. It’s quite like a slave from the Ancient Era," the Raincoat Fisherman chuckled. "It’s been a hundred years since I’ve seen someone as sensible as you."
"The Ancient Era?" Zhu Ge’s eyes lit up with curiosity. "What was that like?"
"You have no need to know," the Raincoat Fisherman said, shooting Zhu Ge a glance.
Zhu Ge scratched his head. "Okay."
"Then what does Spirit Level mean?" Zhu Ge scratched his head again. "Will I get to eat lots of Spirit Level treasures in the future?"
’Spirit Level!’
’My Great Sun Glaze Body is an Elemental Level Cultivation Technique. A low-grade Spirit Level item must be the lowest of the low.’
’I just wonder how many tiers Elemental Level is above Spirit Level?’
"If your performance is worthy of commendation in the future, I will naturally reward you," the Raincoat Fisherman said with a smile, though he didn’t answer Zhu Ge’s question.
’This Raincoat Fisherman really doesn’t want to share the slightest bit of knowledge with me!’
’Knowledge is precious.’
Zhu Ge had previously thought that in these chaotic times, knowledge was even harder to come by than food.
But he had forgotten that his perspective was shaped by people like Mr. Zhu and Yu the Scholar.
Meeting someone like the Raincoat Fisherman, who jealously guarded his own knowledge, was a completely different story.
He wouldn’t share the slightest bit of information, yet he was willing to provide consumables like the Deep Blue Fruit and its leaves.
’Patience, patience...’ Zhu Ge’s gaze fell, and it was as if strands of silk were taking shape within his eyes.
"We’re almost there! That’s Mengla Slope up ahead. There are three villages there," the Raincoat Fisherman suddenly announced.
’Mengla Slope?’
Zhu Ge thought for a moment before recalling that it was a place similar to Jianshan Mountain.
The only difference was that it was thousands of miles away, which was why the people of Jianshan Village hadn’t visited since the decline of the Da Sheng Dynasty.
He hadn’t expected the Raincoat Fisherman’s small boat to be so fast; they had arrived in no time at all.
"Mengla Slope is pretty big."
Zhu Ge gazed out at the view.
It was a small, gently sloped plain—which the locals simply called a slope—where three villages flourished.
Tier upon tier of terraced fields stretched down the incline, far more extensive than the ones at Jianshan Mountain.
Zhu Ge estimated that these terraces alone could support four or five hundred people.
By all accounts, these three villages were prosperous.
Moreover, as a First Realm Martial Artist, Zhu Ge could faintly sense the presence of two Second Realm and five First Realm auras among the three villages.
’A total of seven Cultivators!’
This was what allowed the three villages to avoid being overrun by neighboring tribes.
As they drew near, the Raincoat Fisherman’s boat suddenly descended, and he broke into a loud song:
"Oh, the big rain falls, and the little rain drizzles down-o!"
His voice carried far into the distance, causing a stir in the villages below.
A moment later, the two Second Realm and five First Realm Cultivators appeared on Mengla Slope. The one in the lead bowed deeply to the Raincoat Fisherman.
"This humble servant greets the Jingzhe Official! Mengla Slope’s ten thousand stone of red rice is ready. Please inspect it, Jingzhe Official!"
’Ten thousand stone?!’
’What a massive yield!’
Zhu Ge was inwardly astonished. ’The taxes on these three villages of Mengla Slope are incredibly high!’
"Good." The Raincoat Fisherman smiled, stopping his boat at the edge of Mengla Slope. "Zhu Ge, go and take inventory."
The seven villagers, however, remained in their deep bows.
It seemed like a gesture of welcome, but it also felt as if they were blocking the Raincoat Fisherman and Zhu Ge from entering the village.
"Alright," Zhu Ge nodded and disembarked at once.
One of the seven, a robust man with knotted muscles who also seemed to cultivate the Martial Dao, immediately stepped forward.
"Mr. Zhu, please follow me."
The man took the lead, guiding Zhu Ge toward the village. He moved with a practiced ease, suggesting this was an annual routine.
Zhu Ge followed the man to a spacious cellar, where the man stopped at the entrance to watch him.
"Please begin your count, Mr. Zhu," the man said with a cupped-fist salute.
Without a word, Zhu Ge began opening the bags one by one, hefting them to estimate the weight. Half an hour later, he had finished his inspection.
"The weight and quantity are correct," Zhu Ge said, nodding to the man.
The next moment, the bags of red rice in the cellar lifted into the air, floating one by one toward the entrance.
"Such powerful Divine Sense!" the man blurted out in shock.
Zhu Ge heard him but said nothing, quickly making his way out of the cellar.
"Zhu Ge, get back on the boat! We’re heading to the next stop!"
the Raincoat Fisherman shouted.
Zhu Ge hurried over to the boat and saw the bags of red rice flying into a fish-creel.
The Raincoat Fisherman held a creel woven from bamboo strips, a spiritual light shimmering around it. It was, presumably, another Spiritual Artifact.
Ten thousand stone of red rice was packed inside, yet the creel’s size remained unchanged.
Zhu Ge boarded the boat without a single unnecessary word, playing the part of the Raincoat Fisherman’s attendant perfectly.
The Raincoat Fisherman placed the creel in the boat and immediately took up his oars, preparing to depart.
Zhu Ge clearly saw the expressions of the younger First Realm Cultivators on Mengla Slope relax slightly. They had obviously been tense.
But just then, the Raincoat Fisherman pulled his hands back from the oars.
"I see this place of yours is rich in natural treasures, a land of exceptional people..."
The Raincoat Fisherman began with a sudden smile. "Have any of you heard of Spirit-level Red Rice?"
’Spirit Level?’ Zhu Ge froze.
But among the seven people before him, the leader—a middle-aged man with a black beard—cupped his fists and spoke in a grave tone.
"Reporting to the Lord Jingzhe Official, this old one swears on his life that Mengla Slope has never produced Spirit-level Red Rice. If it had, it would have surely been presented as part of our tax!"
"Oh? You swear on your life?" The Raincoat Fisherman’s expression shifted into a sneer. "In that case, you can die."
The next moment, a palm-sized black shadow flashed past. The head of the black-bearded, middle-aged man suddenly split open like a watermelon dropped from a great height.
SPLAT!!!!
In an instant, the atmosphere became murderously tense.