The trackers stood up, taking another large coil of hemp rope, as thick as an egg, from the basket. The lead tracker slung the rope over his shoulder, grabbed the guide rope, and began climbing the cliff.
The other trackers detached their harness ropes from the original tow rope and followed the leader.
As Zheng Fang had said, the men were clumsy. During the climb, several slipped, but fortunately, their right hands clung to the rope, saving them from falling into the raging waters below.
After more than twenty minutes, all the trackers finally crossed the cliff.
The lead tracker took the rope from his back, ran a few dozen metres, found a large tree, wrapped the rope around it twice, and threw the remaining length into the water.
The thick hemp rope had knots tied along it. When the rope floated down the river to where the trackers stood, they pulled it up, tied their harness ropes below the knots, and threw the tow rope back into the water.
“What are they doing?” Mancang scratched his head and asked.
“This stretch is too dangerous, with no place to step. They need to extend the tow rope,” Zheng Fang explained, then warned, “Sir, hold on tight, don’t fall.”
Jin Feng quickly grabbed the railing in front of him.
The rope floated down the river to the earlier resting spot.
The woman waiting below retrieved the rope from the water and tied it to the original tow rope.
After ensuring it was secure, she untied the rope from the tree.
The wooden boat immediately drifted downstream with the current.
But it didn’t drift far before the trackers pulled it back.
“Three feet of white cloth, hey yo! Four ounces of hemp, hey yo! Feet on the rocks, hey yo! Hands digging sand, hey yo! Bare-bodied, hey yo! Climbing up, hey yo!…”
The trackers sang their work song again, straining to pull the boat forward.
Though the path beyond the cliff wasn’t as treacherous, it was still very narrow, with many spots barely wide enough for a single foot.
The trackers practically crawled, using hands and feet, their faces contorted as they gripped the rocks to move forward.
When the boat reached the narrowest, most turbulent part of the river, the two women set their baskets down, quickly shed their clothes, and joined the trackers’ team.
The women, hardened by long labour, had skin as dark and rough as the trackers’, but their figures were striking. Mancang watched with fascination, but Jin Feng felt no stray thoughts. Instead, a text he once studied, “The Volga Boatmen,” inexplicably came to mind.
Back then, looking at the illustrations, Jin Feng and his classmates had debated whether anyone in the world could endure such hardship.
Now, seeing the trackers in person, Jin Feng realised the world’s suffering was far greater than he had imagined.
For the two women, he felt only respect and sympathy.
Who would choose to be a tracker if they had any other option?
At first, they must have been terribly shy, hadn’t they?
Jin Feng had always been selfish. Since crossing into this world, he hadn’t thought of benefiting others, only of living a lavish life like a wealthy landlord.
Even setting up workshops and kilns in Xihewan Village wasn’t about improving the villagers’ lives but about using them to make money.
Yet, in this moment, something stirred in Jin Feng’s heart. For the first time, he thought that if he ever had the means, he might help others.
The wooden boat inched forward, slowly passing through the narrow valley.
The river widened again, and the paths along the banks became easier to navigate.
Only then did the women release their harness ropes, put their clothes back on, and follow the team with their baskets.
“Sir, the next few dozen miles are smooth. The boat will be steady. It’s time you learned to ride a horse,” Zhong Wu said, leading two warhorses onto the deck.
“No problem,” Jin Feng and Mancang’s eyes lit up, eager to try.
What man doesn’t love riding a horse?
Besides, horses were the primary mode of transport in this era, and they would need to learn sooner or later.
Zhong Wu had prepared a gentle mare for Jin Feng. After Jin Feng climbed onto its back, Zhong Wu taught him some basics, then led the mare back and forth across the deck.
With something engaging to do, time passed quickly. By the eighth day, Jin Feng and Mancang could control the horses to trot on the deck.
The water journey ended, and the boat docked at the pier.
They then rode horses for five days through mountain paths, finally reaching their destination: Weizhou City.
Weizhou City, a key stronghold against the Dangxiang people, had towering walls. However, the upper half was a normal greyish-blue, while the lower half was blackened, looking odd.
“Weizhou was taken by the Dangxiang twice and burned twice. The lower part got charred,” Zhong Wu explained quietly, noticing Jin Feng’s puzzled expression.
“Taken? They fled,” Zheng Fang said. “The Dangxiang were still eighty miles away, and the general guarding the city ran off with his men, leaving the civilians to the Dangxiang. Later, they had the gall to ask the court for military supplies.”
“Hasn’t General Fan taken over now?” Zhong Wu said. “He’s known for being an iron-blooded general. I heard he could have been a high official in the court but volunteered to come to Weizhou.”
“With General Fan here, the Marquis finally has a chance to shine, unlike last time when he was slandered despite his achievements.”
“I hope General Fan can lead us to repel the Dangxiang. Otherwise, next year’s taxes will surely rise again.”
“Didn’t the Marquis promote you to centurion? Your family doesn’t pay taxes. Why worry?”
“My family doesn’t, but my relatives do. If they can’t make it, my family has to help,” Zheng Fang shook his head, troubled.
The wars between Dakang, the Dangxiang, and the Khitans directly affected the annual tribute.
That tribute ultimately fell on the common people.
In recent years, the Dangxiang and Khitans demanded more tribute, increasing the tax burden on Dakang’s people, fueling their hatred for the Dangxiang and Khitans.
With Qinghuai’s token, the group entered Weizhou City smoothly.
The main street had no open shops. The few passersby hurried along.
Occasionally, a squad or two of soldiers rushed by, heading to the walls for a shift change.
Qinghuai had been stationed at the border near Weizhou for over a year and owned a residence in the city.
The residence, reportedly built by a wealthy merchant, was nearly as grand as Qingfeng Villa. Before the Dangxiang invaded Dakang, the merchant had made a fortune trading with them.
When the Dangxiang first took Weizhou, everyone in the residence was killed, and the property was seized by the government, later given to Qinghuai.
Though large, the residence was even quieter than Qingfeng Villa, with only an old gatekeeper and no other servants.
Qinghuai dropped off his luggage and went with Zhong Wu to the city lord’s mansion, returning in the evening with a grim expression.
As soon as he returned, he had Zhong Wu summon Jin Feng to the study.
