At roughly the same time, Li E strolled out of the Xuan Ge Si office.
Since escorting Princess Shuofeng's delegation to the capital, he has had a few days of leisure.
The rules for roll call were not very strict; I only met the commander once and then was not assigned any further tasks.
Hearing that the eldest princess had been sent to the northern border to supervise the army, his slow-moving intelligence on the Xuanwu Army became useless.
There were no acquaintances in the government office, so he left after sitting for the time it takes to drink a cup of tea.
I reckon even if they don't come, nobody will care.
The government office was far from his home, and he was too lazy to hire a carriage, so he simply walked back slowly on his own two feet.
War clouds loom over the northern border, and it's anyone's guess when the flames of war will be ignited.
Not all generals yearn to achieve great deeds immediately; many prefer a peaceful and stable life.
Li E had a weak foundation among the high-ranking officers of the Xuanwu Army. In order to secure this "lucrative position," he almost exhausted half of his wealth to bribe officials.
The intentions behind the Shuofeng Dynasty's move are hard to fathom. If the two countries really go to war, he, as the escort officer who has just dealt with the other side's delegation, might very well be implicated.
It was precisely because of the risks that this task ultimately fell to him.
Strolling leisurely, I am surrounded by the hustle and bustle of the city.
After passing through four neighborhoods, we turned into an ordinary alley called Elm Seed Alley.
Deep in the alley, a small tavern was already open for business.
The storefront is narrow, with only a half-worn wooden sign that reads "Liu's".
Pushing aside the reed mat curtain, the interior was even more cramped.
There was only enough space to fit four elm wood square tables with peeling paint and a few long benches.
The ground was compacted loess, and several empty wine jars were piled up in the corner, with a faint smell of fermented grains in the air.
This is the time between harvests, when the morning drinkers have already left and the midday festivities have yet to begin.
Of the four tables, only one had a guest sitting in front of it; Li E was the second.
The busy man behind him came out upon hearing the sound, a warm smile spreading across his face.
"Sir, what would you like to order?"
Unfortunately, the fire in the stove had just been extinguished, and there was no hot food left.
But whatever you want to eat, your neighbors can easily get it for you.
Li E stared at the face that vaguely resembled a familiar face, his expression somewhat dazed.
These small, low-cost shops rely on affordable prices and cater to regular customers in the neighborhood, so they simply can't afford to hire employees.
Brewing, cooking, serving, and collecting money are all handled by the boss alone.
But... the always smiling old shopkeeper is gone. This must be his son, right?
Things had changed, and Li E suppressed his sorrow and did not make a fuss.
They didn't ask where the old shopkeeper had gone, nor did they pretend to be familiar with him.
"Let's start with a pot of green ant tea, and a couple of cold dishes."
"Alright! Please have a seat, I'll be right there."
Li E sat down at the square table he used to sit at, a place he remembered from his past.
Unconsciously, my palms rubbed the tabletop; the rough wood grain recorded the marks of time and evoked countless fragments of the past.
Thump!
When the guest at the table in front of him put down his wine bowl, the bottom of the bowl hit the table with a dull thud.
Li E subconsciously looked up, his gaze sweeping over the man's left hand...
In an instant, his pupils shrank, and his blood seemed to freeze instantly!
All that could be seen was that his left little finger had been severed off at the base!
A hideous old scar, like a poisonous insect, clung to the base of the finger, extremely glaring.
The reason Li E had wandered around to this inconspicuous, dilapidated tavern in Fengjing City today was because this place held his deepest memories.
Back then, they were just dockworkers, with nothing but their strength.
They would take on the arduous task of unloading goods at night, enduring the entire night until dawn, when the goods were delivered into the city and the transaction completed. They would then often come here together.
The old shopkeeper had a special skill: a pot of boiling offal soup.
The broth, made from simmered pork bones, is snow-white, and contains thickly sliced pork offal, scattered pieces of meat, and plenty of seasonal vegetables.
Large quantity, plenty of oil and broth, steaming hot.
Order a pot of this, along with a few bowls of newly brewed green ant wine, still with foam on top.
Eating it hot and then drinking a few mouthfuls of strong liquor completely relieved my fatigue.
After drinking themselves into a stupor, the group of people, arm in arm, staggered to the large dormitory room rented by Brother Zhao and collapsed into bed.
Those were rare moments of comfort and warmth during the struggle to survive.
Later, war broke out in the northern border, and the imperial court recruited soldiers.
It was Brother Zhao who slammed his fist on the table and roared, "A true man should strive for fame and fortune on horseback! What kind of skill is it to stay at the dock carrying bags!"
He changed his name to Zhao Polu and led a group of spirited men who made a living at the docks to join the army.
They were brave and daring, and they were good at tackling tough challenges. However, because they lacked a strong foundation, they were later incorporated into the vanguard battalion.
In the final battle, Brother Zhao took the lead and made a great contribution by being the first to scale the walls, and was awarded the title of General Zhaoyi.
Just as he had roared when he left Fengjing, they, a bunch of peasants, had truly earned fame and fortune.
However, of the brothers who left the capital together, seven or eight out of ten died.
In the end, only six people survived and settled down in Zhao Yi's army with Brother Zhao.
Who could have predicted that those who survived the carnage would wither away one by one in the seemingly peaceful years?
So many years have passed in the blink of an eye, and of the six, only Li E remains, drifting like a lost soul.
As he was lost in bitter remembrance, the sight of the man across the table setting down his bowl, revealing his left hand and the severed little finger, struck Li E's mind like a thunderbolt.
The location of the severed finger, the hideous old scar... it was exactly the same as his brother's hand in his memory!
Qu Heng, Qu Erlang!
Li E trembled violently, his fingers tightening abruptly.
This chapter is not finished, please click the next page to continue reading!
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
