Chapter 84: Commoner Idol Mr. Zhao

Chapter 84: The Common People's Idol, Mr. Zhao

Another small town, misty rain, willow catkins everywhere.

Zhao Changhe, who had always prided himself on his robust health and thought nothing of getting rained on, finally began to agree with Cui Yuanyang's earlier curse about the damn weather.

Rain falls thick during Qingming season, the poet can narrate with ease, but when you're a traveler on the road, you can only curse. And this was a thousand-mile journey, a long and grueling trek, not a visit to a neighboring village.

Travel in ancient times was so inconvenient that every parting gave birth to countless timeless masterpieces. For you never knew, once separated by mountains and rivers, whether you'd ever meet again.

Now, having just acquired a fine horse, he was especially protective of the Snow-Treading Black Steed, afraid the rain might harm it—he had no idea if horses feared rain or not.

He had left with a carefree air, but amid this misty rain, his mood soured. Instead, he began to miss Yangyang deeply, wondering if she was crying at home.

And so he understood the verse: "Ask how much sorrow can abide? Just like a riverful of weeds overspread, or willow down wafting in the breeze, or drizzling rain yellowing the plum trees."

Surely, when Yangyang leaned on the railing and gazed into the distance, this line filled her heart.

Damn it, he was getting literary again. Strange, though—he was a liberal arts student, but he'd never memorized many poems, returning them to the teacher as soon as he could. Now, half a year away from the classroom and wandering the martial world, more and more verses kept popping into his head.

Was it because cultivation improved his memory, or because the misty rain of the martial world itself stirred poetic thoughts? Just like when he faced Yue Hongling, he often became more literary than at other times.

"Shopkeeper, take care of my horse—the best fodder." Zhao Changhe led his horse to the tavern door, called out to the waiter to look after it, and then peered inside to see if any drinkers were calling him an idiot.

The waiter came over: "Rest assured, sir, we're the best at tending horses... Eh! What a fine horse!"

"Of course." Zhao Changhe's eyes grew wary. Damn it, he hoped there wouldn't be any trouble with horse thieves or such.

The waiter couldn't help stroking the Snow-Treading Black Steed, saying with a smile, "Please come in, sir. You haven't said what you'd like to eat."

"Uh, just a bowl of noodles. I can starve, but my horse must not."

The waiter nodded sympathetically; he'd feel the same.

What a horse indeed!

Zhao Changhe suddenly thought, in the modern world, this would be like a limited-edition luxury car—and the Cui family had just given it away without a second thought.

"Have you heard? There's another ruthless figure in the martial world lately."

Such familiar lines. Zhao Changhe nearly wept, sitting in a corner to listen to what others said about him.

"Yeah, Han Wubing is truly ruthless. The Sword Hut was his birthplace, and he killed thirty-two fellow disciples in one go."

Zhao Changhe: "..."

Never mind.

"Why do all the up-and-comers these days have such rebellious streaks? First Zhao Changhe, now Han Wubing."

Zhao Changhe: "..."

So I still get a mention, huh.

"Haha, Han Wubing is ruthless, but Zhao Changhe is more amusing. Didn't he escort the Cui family's young lady a thousand miles last time? Everyone thought he'd become the Cui family's son-in-law, but the Cui family, true to form, didn't accept a man of low birth and kicked him out. All that fighting for nothing—wonder if he's hiding somewhere crying, hahaha..."

"More and more, I feel sorry for the guy. Always chasing women he can't have—first Yue Hongling, then Cui Yuanyang. Why not be practical?"

"Isn't that just like us?"

"Hahaha, well said! I nominate Zhao Changhe as the most down-to-earth potential dragon! Any objections?"

"I object." Zhao Changhe couldn't hold back. "Can't you talk about Han Wubing? I'm sick of hearing about Zhao Changhe all day. Is it interesting?"

"Who are you? We can talk about whoever we want. Just because you ride a fine horse, do you think Cui Yuanyang should be yours? Does hearing about Zhao Changhe bother you? We support Zhao Changhe winning Cui Yuanyang—what are you going to do about it?"

Zhao Changhe sighed and ate his noodles. "Fine, fine. Zhao Changhe would thank you for your support. Carry on."

Another person said, "Actually, the Cui family is just covering up. Zhao Changhe and Cui Yuanyang spent so many days on the road alone together—what didn't they do? Can their daughter still marry anyone else?"

"Not necessarily. In that life-and-death siege, could they really have done it? I doubt it. The Cui family dared to act this way because they're confident their daughter is still pure."

"Maybe Zhao Changhe is all talk—three pumps and done?"

"Haha, brilliant! That's very possible!"

Zhao Changhe's temples throbbed.

He thought they were fans, but they were just a bunch of haters.

"Wait three years—maybe that guy will make the Human Rankings. I've never heard of anyone training so fast."

"So the Cui family isn't entirely heartless? At least they left some hope."

"Yes, it's hard, but for him, it's not impossible."

"If that day comes, I'll treat everyone to a drink!"

Some fan was even offering to buy drinks for others over his marriage... You have more faith in me than I do. Zhao Changhe ate his noodles, lost in thought.

This agreement with the Cui family had indeed achieved its effect. Yangyang's reputation was mostly intact—most people thought nothing could have happened, and the "three pumps" talk was just bravado. The Cui family hadn't earned too much ingratitude; after all, that's how noble families were. Leaving him a sliver of hope, most people thought it was quite decent...

It proved that being good doesn't pay, but if a bad person shows a little mercy, people don't criticize. Wasn't that the logic?

And Zhao Changhe's reputation in the martial world wasn't as bad as before—no longer just a rebellious outlaw. His righteous act of escorting the young lady, though unspoken, surely earned him a thumbs-up in people's hearts. Then being driven away only made him more relatable, like a common people's idol... even if his fans were all haters.

More importantly, on this journey, he found that the wanted posters had been rescinded. He was no longer a criminal who couldn't walk in the sunlight.

Everything he'd done before had borne fruit.

After enduring the open mockery, people finally grew tired of talking about Zhao Changhe and moved on to Han Wubing: "I never heard that Han Wubing was from the Sword Hut. I thought he was a lone ranger. Who said he came from there?"

"Pfft, in the martial world, who really makes a name without some background or master? Even Yue Hongling has a third-rate sect as her foundation. Zhao Changhe still uses Blood God Cult techniques. A lone ranger? Even if they are, they were taught by some hermit master. No one truly springs from a rock."

"So why did he fall out with the Sword Hut?"

"Who knows? The Sword Hut's master is ranked eighth on the Earth Rankings. I wonder if he'll personally deal with this rebel."

"Would a strongman like that bother with a traitor? Xue Canghai hasn't even made the Human Rankings—he wouldn't go after Zhao Changhe himself. Too many other things to do."

Zhao Changhe held his head. They were talking about Han Wubing, and he really wanted to hear that story, but why did every sentence circle back to him? What did it have to do with him?

In the end, he got no useful information.

So-called "martial world rumors" seemed to cover everything, but how many knew the real truth? Listening to wild guesses only led him astray.

"Want to know about Han Wubing?" Someone suddenly sat down across from him, smiling. "Actually, there's a place where you can quickly learn about almost all events in the martial world."

Zhao Changhe looked up. A middle-aged man of ordinary appearance, nothing distinctive.

He finished his noodles in a few bites and said flatly, "If I want to know about Han Wubing, I can just ask him myself. I was just curious while eating—don't think I'm that interested in others' gossip. I don't even care how old your chief is or if she wants a husband."

The middle-aged man's expression shifted slightly. "How did you know I'm from the Demon Suppression Bureau? Just from that one sentence?"

Zhao Changhe smiled. "Nothing to do with you. But I have a few words for you to pass on to Chief Tang."

The man cupped his hands. "Please speak."

Zhao Changhe wiped his mouth leisurely. "First, I have an appointment at Ancient Sword Lake. Time is tight, and I have no time for other nonsense. I won't go wherever someone tells me to."

The man said helplessly, "Chief Tang's advice is that Ancient Sword Lake is now unpredictable. It's best to avoid it."

Zhao Changhe was unmoved. "If I've made an appointment, I'll go even if knives fall from the sky. And what's this 'unpredictable'? If Han Wubing can face it, why can't I?"

The man sighed. "Keeping one's word is admirable. But knives might really fall from the sky... At least on this road, high-ranking members of the Blood God Cult will come after you. The more famous you become, the more they lose face and can't tolerate it. If you're willing to talk with us, we can help resolve this. Otherwise, you might not even make it to Ancient Sword Lake."

"No need for your help. The Blood God Cult matter is my personal grudge. I'll handle it myself—I don't want to owe you a favor." Zhao Changhe suddenly laughed. "What's the biggest loss of face for the Blood God Cult? Isn't it that Cult Leader Xue was beaten by someone below his rank? My case is nothing."

The middle-aged man: "..."

Second, although I am refusing you, it is not that I hold any grievance against you... It is merely that if Tang Wanzhuang wishes to discuss something with me, I hope she can take the trouble to come and speak with me in person, rather than passing the word around and making a fuss. I find it tiresome.

Zhao Changhe rose to his feet: "Waiter, the bill!"