Whether according to the common knowledge of the Doushen Shijie (Battle God World) or Du Cheng's own impression, Zieg was just as the rumors described: an upright old fellow. Therefore, his captive should be a villain—perhaps even a true Monü (Demoness)!
But if that girl truly was wicked, why would the Baojian (Precious Mirror/Codex) prompt him to rescue her?
Saving a villain was certainly no act of kindness; that was basic moral common sense. Du Cheng believed the Baojian wouldn't ask him to save an evil person, only to unleash greater harm upon the world.
And yet, the Lianhua Baojian (Lotus Precious Mirror/Codex) could not be wrong!
Du Cheng's mind was a tangled mess.
"Indeed, many have been silenced for knowing secrets! However, I will not resort to the kind of actions politicians favour!"
Zieg fixed his gaze on the Xuebi Ren (a member of the Xuebi race) and said slowly, "Your keen sense of smell is not a fault, and discovering the whereabouts of that Monü is certainly no crime! However, thanks to the two brothers of the Shengkaiyin (Saint Kayn) family, many people already saw the Monü enter the city. I cannot allow anyone else to learn that she is being held in the Chengzhu Fu (City Lord's Mansion)! Can you keep this secret?"
"I can!" the Xuebi Ren cried out.
Norton frowned. "Mianxia (Your Eminence/Holiness), he is a Xuebi Ren. They cannot be trusted!"
"What does being a Xuebi Ren matter? He has done nothing wrong. He cannot be punished merely for his identity!"
"But, if this Xuebi Ren leaks the information..." Norton grew anxious, but then he remembered Harry's other identity and quickly added, "Mianxia, this Xuebi Ren is also a bandit! He is the captive of the two young masters!"
"Oh? A bandit, is he? Then according to the Shengjiao Fadian (Holy Church Codex), his fate is determined by his captor. Francis," Zieg turned to Du Cheng, "this Xuebi Ren is your property. I must ask your opinion on how to deal with him."
Harry scrambled to Du Cheng's feet, clutching his legs and weeping, "Merciful Shaoye (Young Master), benevolent lord! Please spare this lowly servant, Harry! Believe me, a Xuebi Ren can be useful to you, and I will never betray you!"
Save him or not?
Harry's nose was incredibly useful, practically a radar in this Doushen Shijie. But the reputation of the Xuebi Ren as a treacherous race was enough to make one's skin crawl.
After a moment's thought, Du Cheng made his decision: save him, but remain wary when using him later. Keep him away from any confidential matters!
Du Cheng wasn't one to overestimate his abilities, but that didn't mean he shied away from risks. Great rewards often came with great risks!
Besides, what was Harry the Xuebi Ren? A weakling who could be crushed with a single finger, nothing more than a dog that might bite its master!
"Zieg Yuanchang (Dean Zieg), Uncle Norton," Du Cheng began, "I wish to take this Xuebi Ren as my slave. However, he now knows things he shouldn't. I suggest we temporarily imprison him and release him only after the Dean's business is concluded. That way, he cannot leak any secrets!" As he spoke, Du Cheng nudged Steve, and the two brothers bowed together. "Of course, although we don't know who the woman is, we will keep it confidential as well, we swear on the honor of our ancestor, Xigelu (Ancestor Sigr)!"
"That's certainly one way to handle it!" Zieg nodded with a smile. He then added, "Norton Chengzhu (City Lord Norton), this Xuebi Ren has reminded me. I need you to immediately find something that can interfere with the sense of smell, to mask the scent emanating from that person!"
Though dressed in robes, Norton pounded his right fist against his chest in a military salute and replied in a deep voice, "As you command! Hailan Cao (Sea Blue Grass) can disrupt the sense of smell in nearly all creatures! I shall see to it at once!"
"Heh," Zieg chuckled, "Don't say 'As you command' to me; I am not your superior officer! Alright, that's enough for today. I need to rest."
Just from saying these few words, a look of fatigue reappeared on Zieg's face. It seemed his injuries were indeed quite severe.
...
Norton arranged for the two brothers to stay in a small, separate courtyard. After settling the details for the next day's disaster relief efforts, he departed to attend to his duties.
Poor Harry was taken away by soldiers to be imprisoned. Meanwhile, Steve, after paying the mercenaries' fees, promptly disappeared. Judging by the lecherous grin on his face as he left, Du Cheng knew the ladies of Anteweipu Gang (Antwerp Port) were in for some "trouble."
Throughout the night, Du Cheng wrestled with the question of whether or not to rescue the Monü. Judging by the tingling itch in his backside (Translator's Note: The original text uses "屁股的麻痒程度" - degree of numbness and itching of the buttock. This could be a literal physical sensation related to the Baojian's prompting, a personal superstition of Du Cheng's, or a specific cultural/in-world reference indicating the significance or 'rightness' of an action. Retaining a close meaning while acknowledging its ambiguity.), saving her would undoubtedly be a major act of kindness. The problem was, could he save her? What kind of security would surround a prisoner in the Chengzhu Fu? How could someone like him, equivalent only to a Rank 2 Doushi (Battle Master/Fighter), possibly succeed?
To attempt a rescue like that would be sheer recklessness. So, for the time being, Du Cheng pushed the thought aside.
The next day, Steve and Du Cheng, escorting the disaster relief funds under the protection of Norton and his soldiers, headed towards the disaster zone east of the city.
The eastern side of Anteweipu Gang was starkly different from the western side they had arrived from. About twenty li (a unit of distance, roughly 500 meters or 1/3 mile) outside the city walls, the yellow earth beneath their feet turned muddy and sodden, looking as if it had recently been scoured by floodwaters.
Riding alongside Norton, Du Cheng asked, "Uncle, just how severe was the damage from this flood?"
"Very severe. There are at least a hundred thousand victims along the banks of the Niuyin River (Niu Yin River). I've settled most of them in the open area ahead. Ai!" Norton sighed. "The Empire's finances have been strained lately, and the relief funds are far too small!"
Du Cheng did a quick mental calculation. Even with a hundred thousand victims, if his relief funds were divided equally, each person would only receive a few silver coins—equivalent to perhaps a few hundred kuai (a unit of currency, often informal) from his previous life. It was nowhere near enough to truly alleviate their suffering.
At this thought, Du Cheng sighed as well.
After traveling another dozen or so li, the refugee camp came into view. The sight that greeted him made Du Cheng's heart clench.
A camp housing a hundred thousand victims... The rows of military tents alone stretched for more than ten li. Every li or so, large makeshift kitchens had been set up. In front of each, lines of gaunt, raggedly dressed refugees queued patiently to receive portions of dry, hard black bread.
Within the camp, whether it was the shuffling elderly, the disheveled adults, or even the children old enough to understand, every face wore the same vacant expression.
Apart from the cries of infants and the shouts of soldiers, an eerie quiet hung over the vast camp.
The entire refugee camp seemed steeped in an atmosphere bordering on despair, almost deathly still.
Norton spurred his horse forward and ordered the camp soldiers to gather some of the refugees. Then he called out, "Everyone, listen! The two young masters of the Shengkaiyin family from the Imperial Capital are here to provide disaster relief!"
A faint stir went through the crowd. People turned, following Norton's gesture, to look at Du Cheng and Steve. But their eyes remained filled with hopelessness.
Disaster relief? The Imperial government itself couldn't provide much; how much could two young masters possibly offer?
The refugees' near-numb reaction left Norton feeling awkward. He beckoned to the brothers. "Why don't you say a few words?"
Steve nudged Du Cheng and whispered, "The charity fund is yours, you do the talking!" With that, he slapped the rump of Du Cheng's mount.
Du Cheng urged his horse forward. He swept his gaze over the refugees' listless faces, sighed inwardly, and then suddenly roared, "Do you want to die?!"
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