Chapter 481
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Chapter 481: Pulling and Tugging
The caravan trudged along the snow-laden road, moving neither too fast nor too slow. The heavy snow blocked paths, slowing their progress significantly. The convoy stretched on, and the once-energetic horses now appeared weary and sluggish.
Bai Wei’s thoughts drifted to something he’d read before, perhaps in a textbook or a novel. It recounted the story of two teams racing to the poles—one relying on cold-resistant dogs to pull their sleds and the other using small, hardy horses. The former team succeeded, as the horses, despite their strength, succumbed to the freezing temperatures.
Horses, Bai Wei mused, are strong creatures but lack sufficient body fat to withstand extreme cold. Even crossbreeds with mythical bloodlines shared this vulnerability. This is why mechanical power eventually replaced them in harsher climates.
The horses’ reluctance to move faster became evident as the snow thickened. They longed for the sun’s warmth but dreaded the quick thaw that would make their journey even more difficult.
Despite the challenges, the atmosphere within the caravan had lightened considerably. Many no longer wore the strained expressions they once did. Wei Zu, having received a few pointers from Bai Wei, spent the morning staring dreamily at the sword in his hand. The mercenaries, too, seemed more at ease.
The reason for this change was clear—the roasted thigh they’d shared had been exceptionally delicious.
Human nature, or perhaps the nature of all intelligent beings, reveals itself in such moments. Outwardly, people might appear resolute, yet once they abandon their inhibitions, their moral descent can be alarmingly swift—like gaining weight.
The caravan’s troubles were resolved through negotiation. After all, if money could solve the problem, it wasn’t much of an issue.
From that point onward, the caravan operated at full efficiency. Bai Wei’s casual mention of “hurrying up” was met with immediate action, as everyone quickened their pace without complaint.
Midway through their journey, they encountered a ragged woman sitting on a roadside stone, clutching a visibly twisted foot. She claimed to have fallen from a mountainside while gathering herbs. Her injury looked painful, though the cold had preserved it from worsening.
The caravan, showing kindness, decided to take her along. Some questioned why anyone would gather herbs in winter, but others argued it was the best season for certain plants. Bai Wei casually set her bone in place and instructed her to rest.
The woman received warm treatment from the caravan members, possibly because Bai Wei had acknowledged her presence. They even made room for her in one of the carriages.
However, trouble soon followed.
Not long after she joined, a group of bandits appeared, claiming to be after the herb gatherer. They insisted on searching the caravan.
The woman pleaded with a sorrowful face, explaining that she was escaping a calamity. According to her, the bandits intended to take her back. Separated from her family and injured, she had no choice but to lie for survival.
The bandits, no more than ten in number, seemed little more than an annoyance.
Little Green rushed out to confront them but was overpowered, succumbing to a fiery demise. The bandits, weak as clay chickens and mud dogs, posed no real threat. Their remains, however, were entirely incinerated—clean and thorough.
Bai Wei frowned at the unnecessary carnage. “Why such an eagerness to kill? It gains us nothing,” he reprimanded.
Little Green retorted, “These people deserved it—”
“Deserved?” Bai Wei interrupted, shaking his head. “We could have used them to clear the snow, harvest their organs for medical students, or donate their bodies to science. Wasting their potential like this… such a pity.”
Nalan Qingshu, observing this conversation, was left speechless. Her perception of Bai Wei, the capitalist, was once again shattered.
The caravan, diverted by the snow, found temporary shelter in a deserted roadside inn. Though the building showed signs of abandonment, it provided much-needed refuge.
Bai Wei stationed himself at the door of his room on the second floor, motionless like a statue.
Meanwhile, in a separate room, the herb gatherer warmed herself by the fireplace, her expression a mix of amusement and cunning. She extended her hand, revealing a tiny, emerald-green spider resting in her palm.
“What story should we weave next?” she murmured, addressing the spider.
“You’re playing with fire,” the spider replied, its voice crisp and delicate.
She chuckled, “The bandits fell
into my trap earlier,
succumbing to my venom. I
was merely toying with them,
intending to offer them as
tribute, but they were
destroyed before I could.”
The spider hesitated. “How
much longer do you plan to
continue?”
“This is no mere game,” the
herb gatherer replied, her eyes
gleaming. “If I bring the entire
caravan to Master, it will
please him greatly.”
The spider warned, “You risk
too much.”
But the herb gatherer only
smiled, her confidence
unshaken.
As she sent her spider clone to
carry out her plan, she
muttered to herself, “Master
will reward me handsomely.
After all, this Bai Ze woman is
the real treasure here.”
Just then, a knock came at her
door. Quickly masking her
thoughts, she feigned a weary
tone.
“Who is it?”
“On such a cold day,” came a
voice from outside, “I’ve come
to bring warmth.”
“The fire pit is ready,” she
replied.
“It’s not about the fire pit,” the
voice clarified. “It’s about
poverty alleviation.”
