Two days ago, he and Yan Xiaohan had parted ways outside Jingzhou city.
After walking two li, he deliberately turned back, just to tease someone at the post station. When buying osmanthus candy, he happened to see sesame cakes nearby and impulsively bought a pack to snack on during his journey.
The distance from Jingzhou to Kuizhou, the center of the southwest, wasn’t far. A fast horse could cover it in three days, but Fu Shen had been traveling for six. He hadn’t been this carefree and unencumbered wandering between heaven and earth for many years. Though still young, he had spent half his life feeling like a duck being driven onto a perch, constantly busy, shouting and fighting. He couldn’t even return home a few times a year, let alone enjoy the luxuries of a beautiful wife, concubines, or high-ranking official status.
The Jingzhou trip had changed both him and Yan Xiaohan. Perhaps they had finally found a place of belonging, understanding that in this long mortal world, he wasn’t the only one walking alone.
As the saying goes, even a seventh-rank official can be found at a prime minister’s gate.
The doorkeeper at the Duke’s mansion wasn’t as snobbish as those in the capital, but Fu Shen looked utterly impoverished, wearing a wide-brimmed hat that covered his face and did not appear to fit in. The doorkeeper lazily raised his eyelids and held out his hand: “Your calling card.”
Fu Shen, having encountered many such servants before, pulled out a silver piece from his pouch and placed it in the doorkeeper’s rough palm, saying with a smile, “No calling card. Just tell him that Du Leng, the military doctor from North Yan, has come to visit.”
The doorkeeper weighed the silver in his hand, a hint of joy flashing across his face. His attitude remained arrogant, but his tone softened: “Wait here. I’ll go announce your arrival to the Duke.”
Shortly after, he returned with a tense expression, bowing and ushering Fu Shen inside to the western side hall of the main courtyard.
