Chapter 432 Extra: Ge Quan x Fang Jinrong 1

Chapter 432 Extra: Ge Quan x Fang Jinrong 1

"So where are we headed next? How about I take you home?"

After fleeing the Zhu estate and getting out of the city, Ge Quan only then thought to ask Fang Jinrong where he wanted to go.

"No, no, no, not going back!" Fang Jinrong's head whipped back and forth. "I'm basically a dead man now. If I go back, won't everybody say I've come back from the dead? And if they round up a bunch of masters to come catch me, what then? Besides, if the County Magistrate's son finds out my father tricked him, won't he tear my family's house apart? We can't afford to cross some big-shot official."

Fang Jinrong's little brain had it all figured out, though the main reason was simply that he didn't want to go home.

Living life on the road is so exciting!

Ge Quan was in a snug black outfit built for moving easy, his back straight and strong. He led a chestnut-colored horse, with the finely dressed young Master Fang perched on top.

"Then... but... you with me..." Ge Quan fumbled over his words.

Fang Jinrong was a pampered young master, nothing like the folks who ran the martial world. Never mind everything else—just the fact that he was young and unwed would wreck Fang Jinrong's reputation.

Fang Jinrong knew what he was about to say. He pressed his lips together and huffed loudly: "Are you saying I'm too much trouble and you wanna find someplace to ditch me? Or are you gonna marry me off to just anybody to get rid of this burden of yours!"

That was a load of nonsense—Ge Quan had no obligation to look after him whatsoever.

But the man, handsome as any pale-faced scholar, genuinely panicked at those words. Ge Quan stopped in his tracks, turned back, and looked up at the fuming young master on horseback. The words tumbled out fast, like he'd practiced them in his head a dozen times: "That's not what I meant. I'm just bad with words. What I'm trying to say is, I want to take you with me—anywhere at all."

That was basically a confession. Any ordinary young man would've blushed and gotten all fluttery—but Fang Jinrong wasn't just any ordinary young man.

He said, all pleased with himself, "You said it yourself, now. You're the one who wants to take me along, so this young master will graciously deign to tag along with you!"

Fang Jinrong was impossibly fussy, tilting his round little chin up into the morning light, though what he had to be so smug about was anybody's guess.

Ge Quan watched him quietly for a beat, and suddenly his mind was made up. If Fang Jinrong was willing to run off with him, then he, a man of the martial world, had nothing to be afraid of. "In that case, I need to go to the Jiangnan region to find someone. We'll swing by Fengtian first, then catch a boat south."

Fang Jinrong was a young master who'd never even left his own town, whose only idea of the outside world came from storybooks. He had no clue which way was up—wherever Ge Quan said they were going, that's where they went.

Good thing he'd run into a stand-up guy like Ge Quan. Anyone with ill intentions would have sold him off long ago.

"Wow, this boat is so big!"

"Where's the boatman?"

"Will there be attendants on board?"

"What do we do about food and water?"

Fang Jinrong made a racket on the southbound passenger boat, a total country bumpkin who'd never seen anything, drawing side-eye from the other passengers.

Somebody noticed he was a young, pretty thing and got the wrong idea, moving to strike up a chat—but the next moment, the handsome, gentle-faced man beside him shot a wary look over.

Ah, so he had someone looking out for him.

His brother? Didn't really look like it, though.

With Ge Quan watching over him, the trip was peaceful enough. The two arrived smoothly in Yangzhou, and before they'd even had a chance to contact Ge Quan's friends after disembarking, Old Ge, who'd been lying in wait, caught their scent and tracked them down.

"Why so late?" Old Ge was rarely not drunk, his face wrapped in gray cloth, dressed in ragged burlap—anyone would've taken him for a beggar.

Ge Quan looked away, too embarrassed to meet his master's eyes, and didn't answer.

Old Ge had raised Ge Quan from a kid—he knew right away something was being kept from him. Just as he was about to push further, a small face peeked out from behind Ge Quan. "Greetings, Master Ge!"

Old Ge: ?

He paused, then suddenly looked at Ge Quan with deep satisfaction, praising him with his eyes: Good lad, finally figured out how to land yourself a young man.

Back in his day, he'd been a famous rogue of the martial world. He'd always wondered why his disciple never seemed to get it, and had figured Ge Quan would be a bachelor for life. Who knew he'd finally come around.

Ge Quan opened his mouth, then offered no explanation. "Master, do you have a place to stay?"

He and Fang Jinrong had just gotten off the boat and hadn't found lodging yet.

Old Ge waved a hand. "An abandoned temple outside the city... but it's probably not all that safe." It wasn't that he was being thoughtful of the two youngsters—it was that enemies from the south might be closing in on him.

Ge Quan: "..." Even if it was safe, he wouldn't let Fang Jinrong stay in some broken-down temple. Those days of the two of them drifting around were long gone.

"You go stay in the temple yourself. I'll take Rong... Rong Geer to an inn first, and in a couple days we'll rent a little courtyard." Ge Quan carried both his and Fang Jinrong's bundles on his shoulder, his eyes clear, not a hint of anything improper.

Old Ge reached out to smack him on the head. "What a fine disciple you are! Now you don't say anything about saving money to buy your master a drink?"

Ge Quan dodged nimbly, grabbing Fang Jinrong's sleeve on the way. "Master's getting old. Too much drinking isn't good for you."

"You little punk, since when do you get to lecture me!" Old Ge made to scold him further, but Ge Quan had already pulled Fang Jinrong and run off.

The old man shook his head. "Truly getting old." Five years ago, Ge Quan wouldn't have gotten away from him.

He watched the two young figures walk off, patted his flat money pouch, mulled it over, and instead of heading back to the temple, walked straight out of the city—toward the dock where Ge Quan and the others had gotten off the boat.

The inn was easy to find. Ge Quan had wanted to book a superior room for Fang Jinrong and sleep in the common bunk downstairs himself, but worried the boy would be scared alone, so he booked two superior rooms instead. He even drew the hot water himself and set it in Fang Jinrong's room.

After a while, a wet head poked out from the room. "Ge Quan?"

The door next door slid open. Ge Quan's usually pale face had a faint flush to it, giving him a bit more life. "Give me your dirty clothes. I'll come back to empty the water later."

Fang Jinrong handed his clothes out from inside, without the slightest hint of embarrassment.

Ge Quan took them without changing expression, his movements practiced—he'd gotten used to washing them all the way from Changping.

The two had little luggage; they washed one set of clothes and wore one set. Fortunately, it was just early autumn and the sun was still strong during the day. Once it got colder, this wouldn't work anymore.

He'd need to buy the young master more sets of clothes.

Ge Quan thought as he scrubbed by the well.

More important than clothes was renting a place. Ge Quan and Old Ge were old hands at the wandering life, always on the move, doing shady business on the side. Their earnings varied wildly, and usually when the old man ran out of wine, he'd send Ge Quan out to take a job.

This kind of "shadow work" wasn't suited to staying in busy inns. They usually rented small courtyards in remote towns, and had even stayed in funeral parlors before.

Three days later, Ge Quan rented a courtyard in a county town near Yangzhou—just a single courtyard, for just him and Fang Jinrong. He also hired a woman, surnamed Qian, to come during the day to cook and do laundry.

Aunt Qian was a pitiful soul. Her family had been poor in her early years, and when they finally struck it rich, her husband divorced her. Her natal family wouldn't take her back either, so she scraped by doing odd jobs alone.

She spoke little and never asked what Ge Quan and Fang Jinrong's relationship was. She washed the clothes clean and swept the courtyard spotless, though her cooking was only so-so.

Fang Jinrong wasn't picky. He only cared about when he could go out and play—the novelty of Yangzhou hadn't worn off yet.

He bounced in through the door, light and carefree, with Ge Quan following behind carrying a bundle of newly bought ready-made clothes.

"I've just finished cooking and left it in the pot. Let me serve it up for you." Aunt Qian had been about to leave after making the meal, but seeing them return, she immediately lowered her head and turned back.

Ge Quan called out to stop her. "No need, Aunt Qian. We'll help ourselves."

Aunt Qian nodded and silently took her leave.

"Why is everything you buy me white? They're nothing like what you wear."

After the meal, Ge Quan was washing dishes nearby while Fang Jinrong picked up a thicker long robe and held it up in front of himself. The finest fabric in town was fine cotton; the Fang family ran a cloth shop and would buy brocade clothes for the family—things you could only get in county towns.

Yangzhou, though, was a big city, and a different world entirely—it was famous for its textiles. The ready-made clothes Ge Quan bought for Fang Jinrong were all top-quality, each piece costing three to five taels of silver.

"I thought you liked wearing white," Ge Quan said, flustered, worried Fang Jinrong was unhappy.

Fang Jinrong sat on a little wooden stool, chin propped on his hand, watching him work. "Back then, I just wore whatever the maids and servants handed me. I had clothes in other colors too. But ever since I started traveling with you, you're always in dark colors—I want to wear those too."

Ge Quan listened quietly, a warmth swelling in his chest, then shot to his feet. "Then... I'll go get you some dark clothes right now."

Fang Jinrong looked up, confused. "Didn't you already buy me some?"

Ge Quan was already at the front gate, his voice drifting back into the yard. "We might be heading out on a long trip again soon—I need to get some heavier stuff."

After leaving, he somehow found himself back at the clothing shop. But by then, the shop only had last year's leftover heavy coats, and even when the owner dug them out, Ge Quan wasn't having any of it. A rough guy who'd never given a damn about clothes or food could now tell good fabric from bad.

Back at the courtyard, before he even stepped inside, Ge Quan knew something was off—the air was thick with too many presences, more than just one person.

The young master was still in the courtyard.

Ge Quan's heart clenched. He skipped the front gate, circling around to the alley behind the yard. With a light push off his toes, he vaulted the wall, silent as a shadow—only the faint rustle of his robes in the wind gave him away.

Seven or eight men were posted at the front gate, crouched behind the door panels, ready to strike. From Fang Jinrong's room came a long, even breath—the kind only a sound sleeper makes. He'd clearly been put under some kind of spell.

Ge Quan moved with deadly precision, crashing through the window and making straight for Fang Jinrong, catching the man guarding him off guard.

"Who's there!"

The man's shout alerted everyone at the gate, and they all rushed toward the room.

But Ge Quan was faster than all of them. Just as the man inside moved to grab Fang Jinrong as a hostage, a cold gust swept by—and the young man beside him was already in Ge Quan's arms.

Cold sweat broke out on the man's forehead. At that speed, if the pale-faced man had come to kill instead of rescue, he'd already be dead.

"Second Brother!"

"Is that man back?"

"Second Brother, are you alright?"

The man they called Second Brother felt the cold weight at his throat and didn't dare even swallow. The heavy blade resting against his neck had been hanging at his own waist just moments ago.

"Nobody come in." Second Brother's voice was strained.

The warning came a little too late. For these agile fighters, the small courtyard was only a dozen or so steps from the gate to the main room—they arrived in an instant.

With a bang, the door was kicked open from outside, and the seven or eight men saw their Second Brother with a blade at his throat—his own blade, no less.

And the man holding it stood rock-steady, one hand on the heavy blade, the other cradling the young man, unnervingly still. Only the draft from the kicked-in door stirred a few strands of his hair.

Face pale as frost silk, eyes sharp as phoenix feathers,

All things become blades, drifting light on the waves.

"Damn it! Ge Quan!!!"

"Didn't they say it was his master?"

"Don't you dare touch my Second Brother!"

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