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The shopkeeper next door perked up upon hearing this. He poked his head out, "teasing" the customer with dismissive words: "Heh, an old geezer like you can tell what only nobles possess?"
Another customer, there to buy meat, chimed in. "Perhaps he's seen too many 'nobles' in the pleasure houses..."
Faced with the slightly malicious jibes from those around him, the customer's expression remained unchanged, his eyes, which had weathered a thousand storms, now held only peace.
The butcher, however, found it jarring. He brandished his boning knife, gesturing to shoo people away. With a fierce look, he barked: "Go, go, go! Don't stand around here ruining my business. Are you buying meat? If not, go stand somewhere else."
The other onlookers, finding no more entertainment, dispersed.
Though the butcher did dirty, back-breaking work, he was the wealthiest and most well-off on this street, and his words carried some weight—ordinary families only indulged in meat on festivals, but the butcher's family ate meat every few days, and their dishes were rich with oil. His neighbors dared not easily offend him.
Seeing the gawkers disperse, the butcher then asked the customer: "Old geezer, what you said just now, was it true?"
The customer chuckled: "Naturally, it's true."
The butcher pondered for a moment, then asked: "How'd you know?" He was quite curious how this old man, from such a distance, instantly recognized it as a Literary Heart Signature instead of an ordinary accessory.
The customer lightly tapped the butcher block with a finger, saying with a smile: "That's not important. What's important is that you've lost, so you must honor the bet."
"Alright, alright, if I lose, then it's good news! I'll go buy another two jin of old wine for your meal later..." The butcher waved his hand indifferently. He had a lucrative profession and didn't mind the small "betting money." While waiting, the butcher leaned on the wooden counter with bent arms, chatting with the customer: "Hey, old geezer, your speech sounds quite refined. Have you actually studied before?"
The customer replied: "I merely recognize a few characters."
The butcher perked up, slapped the counter: "Old geezer, you know my kid is about to start school, right..."
The customer asked calmly: "You want your kid to study?"
The butcher nodded, then said: "Doesn't need to learn too many characters, I'm not expecting my kid to become an official. With our background, how could we have the fate of becoming nobles? Just teach the kid a few characters, otherwise, they'll be cheated when settling accounts. This shop of mine will eventually go to the kid anyway..."
"What if your child possesses a Literary Heart or a Martial Courage? Would you support them? A Literary Heart for scholarly pursuits, a Martial Courage for physical training. Both would deplete your family's savings."
The butcher merely felt the old man was teasing him, so he pouted and quickly lowered his head to slice meat: "With our background? My kid wouldn't be worthy. Just teach them how to butcher meat, that's enough..." In his memory, those with a Literary Heart Signature or a Martial Courage Tiger Tally were all nobles. They were either high in power and prestige or exceedingly wealthy; in short, they were superior beings. These people could leap onto rooftops and scale walls, or even create something out of nothing—those were methods only immortals possessed.
They were merely common folk, rolling in the mud. He was a butcher; his child would certainly be a butcher too. As for anything else? How could he dare to dream of so much? The customer watched the butcher, his gaze as calm as water. The butcher didn't even dare to fantasize or daydream, and the customer felt a pang of unease in his heart.
He sighed, uttering: "The business of basketry and fur-making..."
The butcher didn't understand: "What's that?"
"It means 'son inherits father's business'," the customer explained. "The son of a good furrier will learn to make furs; the son of a good bow-maker will learn to make sieves."
The butcher understood even less, but he became certain of one thing—this old man really was literate, and probably quite literate at that! Consequently, he grew even more puzzled.
In these times, who doesn't respect a literate person? If the old man went out to teach children to read and write, he wouldn't be in such straits. How did he end up being bought by Moon Splendor Tower to work as a kitchen handyman? Doubt filled the butcher's heart, but the customer didn't want to elaborate, and with new customers arriving, he had to put away his stray thoughts. He thought about taking his child to see the old man that evening, bringing two jin of good meat, as eating only offal all the time might make them sick.
Meanwhile, the thug also led Shen Tang far away. He first walked along a main road. Once Shen Tang's attention was diverted and her guard was down, he suggested taking a shortcut through the alleys. The further they walked, the more secluded and quiet it became. Shen Tang finally felt a distinct unease.
She asked the man: "How much further is it to the inn?"
The man replied: "Almost there, almost there."
After turning down two more alleys, Shen Tang asked again. "Are you sure you haven't taken a wrong turn?"
The man grew impatient. At this point, they were only a few steps from their destination. Feeling confident and without scruples, he raised his voice several octaves to intimidate Shen Tang: "I said it's almost there. Why are you so anxious, little lady?" Shen Tang sensed something was wrong and panicked: "I want to go back..."
The man chuckled sinisterly, refusing to stop: "Too late!" He kicked open a door and called into the yard: "We've got business!"
It was a very secluded and filthy courtyard, with weeds crawling out of cracks in the walls. Faint voices could be heard from inside. Shen Tang feigned attempting to escape from the man's back. Just as she landed, before she could steady herself, she was forcefully shoved into the courtyard by the man. Losing her balance, she stumbled violently, then fearfully turned her head to see a man and a woman emerge from the yard.
The woman said: "What a pretty little lady, Laitou. Where did you trick her from? Look at this tender skin and soft flesh..." As she spoke, she reached out to pinch Shen Tang's face. Shen Tang dodged in fright, glaring furiously at the man named Laitou: "You, you, you weren't called by Yuan Liang?"
Laitou ignored Shen Tang and simply replied: "Just a few words, and she obediently followed me. Pretty face, but no brains."
The man beside the woman leaned in to examine Shen Tang's face. Shen Tang timidly recoiled, looking terrified and on the verge of tears. The man licked his lips and sneered: "What use does a girl have for brains? If women had brains, how would we do business? Later, we'll take her to Moon Splendor Tower. They've been pressuring us for good merchandise."
The woman ignored her companion's broad generalization: "Moon Splendor Tower? Aren't all the 'little gentlemen' in that establishment male courtesans? What would they want a girl for?" Laitou and the man exchanged knowing glances and smiled. A lewd understanding flowed between the two, everything conveyed without words.
"You don't understand. If they come to us for goods, we just provide them."
"Exactly. Women shouldn't meddle so much."
Laitou pushed Shen Tang's shoulder, preparing to lock her into a dark, filthy small room emitting an unbearable stench. Shen Tang dodged with a misstep. Mortified and enraged, she gritted her teeth: "You dare to sell me?" The woman sneered, her eyes suddenly sharp. She reached out to pinch Shen Tang's flesh, threatening: "Forget a little wench like you, even if the Jade Emperor's own daughter came, we'd still sell her. Behave! Or you'll regret it!"
Shen Tang directly dodged around a pillar, her eyes reddening at the corners as she circled, cursing: "Aren't you afraid of divine retribution for doing this?"
Seeing Shen Tang become more spirited the more she ran, the three prepared to gang up and subdue her, then give her a good beating to teach her a lesson.
"Retribution?" Laitou spat, cursing: "I am 'Heaven' itself!"
"Qi Yuan Liang, save me!"
The man said: "You can scream until your voice breaks, and no one will save you!" This little wench could really run, as slippery as an eel.
"I'm so scared!" Shen Tang's voice was tinged with a whimper. The courtyard was only so big, and Shen Tang was quickly cornered by the three, the little lady, almost in tears, shrinking her shoulders.
The next instant, the fear on her face receded.
"Just kidding!"
Pushing off the wall for leverage, her long legs swept around in a powerful kick.