–Oh, Mr. Yang! I’ve heard so much about you.–
As soon as he entered the room, the man wearing an exaggerated fur coat came out from behind the large desk and gave Yang Zicang a hug.
–You know my surname is Yang?–
After they parted, Yang Zicang looked at this fat-headed, big-eared man with a peculiar expression.
–Hmm, didn’t you tell me yourself?–
The man slapped his own forehead: –Look at my big mouth—it was your assistant who said it. He took the liberty, didn’t he? That must be it, must be it.–
–Excuse me, is my assistant still here?–
Penglord was a bit speechless. The other party had only asked two questions, and both caught him off guard.
–He… should still be here, right?–
A dozen or so minutes had passed since that flurry of communication; presumably, –his– auction item had concluded. Yang Zicang said bluntly:
–I have an impertinent request, for which I ask the favor of Wuyou Penglord’s help.–
–Please, go ahead.–
Penglord exuded the air of a merchant; as the master of Wuyou, his demeanor was quite easygoing.
–I trouble you to intercept my assistant on my behalf. Please be careful—he may resort to violence.–
–Huh?!–
No matter how rusty Penglord’s mind was, he immediately grasped that something was amiss here.
–Hold on a moment.–
Wuyou saw a Moxel Ring emerge on Penglord’s chest, and a Quad rapidly expanded outward. Without a word spoken from Penglord, a few seconds later he turned back to Yang Zicang and the others with a smile, beckoning them to come over and sit down.
–Um, Mr. Jia, your assistant left a few minutes ago, and our people are already in pursuit.–
Hearing this, Yang Zicang held little hope.
It was only thanks to his train that he had traveled over a hundred miles in such a short time.
And that thief, having covered a hundred sixty or seventy miles in just over a day to appear here, surely possessed some unique skill of his own. A beauty poured tea for Yang Zicang and set down the tea set.
–Please, have some tea.–
–May I ask, does your assistant intend to abscond with the money?– Wuyou leaned in to ask.
Taking a sip of tea, Yang Zicang said, –I have no assistant.–
–Pfft!–
Professor Chen, seated across, sprayed out a mouthful of hot tea.
He quickly wiped the table dry with his sleeve, while Wuyou laughed and said it didn’t matter, calling for someone to bring a cloth and clean it up.
–No assistant? So the one who orchestrated the auction wasn’t actually part of Jiazi Term’s people? Then, is that Shin Engine merely borrowed in his name…–
–The Engine was forged by me, and I gave it to this friend of mine, who was once an honored guest at a small settlement.–
Yang Zicang pointed at Zuo Feixian, who puffed out his chest.
Professor Chen finally took a closer look at Zuo Feixian.
He hadn’t expected this unassuming man to be a guest of honor in the Peng Zone, speculating that perhaps none of these three were simple characters.
–And then?– Wuyou Penglord asked curiously.
–This friend of mine pitying the Peng Zone for lacking clean water sources, gave it to that Penglord so freely. Then, the next day, we were thrown out as thieves—because the engine had gone missing.–
–Huh?– Wuyou shot up in shock, looking from Yang Zicang to Zuo Feixian.
Professor Chen stared at Yang Zicang and the others in disbelief.
Xiao Liu muttered in astonishment, –Did I hear that right? Built an engine and gave it away, only to be booted out as a thief?–
Shiu Siuchuan grumbled softly, –Who says it isn’t so? If Brother Yang hadn’t…–
Zuo Feixian kicked him in the leg with that foot in front of the others, and Shiu Siuchuan grunted twice before falling silent.
–I wonder if Brother Jiazi Kai Term could still whip up another well engine like that? I know the materials are hard to come by, but if you could provide it, I’ve got a few buyers willing to swap six to seven thousand Chronos, or equivalent supplies in trade.–
–We can talk about that later.–
Yang Zicang did not forget his real purpose—he was here to acquire the lost Thoughts Moxel. The moment he brought it up, Carefree Penglord didn’t hesitate to offer ten for free and sell the rest to him at the lowest price of one every thirty years.
–Stay here tonight—I’ll arrange rooms for you all,– Penglord said after their conversation concluded.
Seeing that Yang Zicang hadn’t mentioned his own engine matter from start to finish, Professor Chen couldn’t help feeling anxious.
A dejected Little Liu covered his face with one hand, casting a look at his teacher.
A Carefree big Penglord like him supplied goods to more than one shop in Hubville; at the spring and autumn order fairs each year, the locals gathered here to join his Cargo Crew on the journey to Hubville—he was truly the leader of the pack. He signaled the slightly impatient Professor Chen to watch his words.
After chatting for a while longer, it was only then that Penglord’s guards came to report: they had failed to intercept Jiazi Term’s assistant.
He actually got away.
–I’m truly sorry—you’ve witnessed an embarrassment,– said Carefree Penglord, a trace of humiliation flickering across his face.
He had slipped away in just a few minutes, and moreover, the guards also brought back more detailed news about the Material Workshop—those alligators seemed to have built a small nest down below.
Having embarrassed himself twice in front of guests in half a day, Wuyou’s heart had already cursed Yuan Xuelin and his gang to the high heavens.
After lunch, Yang Zicang and the others were arranged by Penglord to stay temporarily in a rocky house.
–Why didn’t you show it to Penglord?– Once they were alone, Professor Chen hurried into Yang Zicang’s room and asked.
–You value this engine that much?–
Yang Zicang parted the curtains with his hand and glanced at the scenery beyond the wooden-framed window.
It was as if he were in a mountain lumber yard, with rows of barrel-thick logs stacked below.
–My life depends on it.–
–Alright then, how much do you think we can sell this engine for?–
He took the Shin Engine out of his pocket and tossed it lightly in his hand.
Professor Chen could hardly keep from swallowing; having grown numb from repeated failures, he’d shed his impatience long ago, but seeing it so close yet feeling it might be handed away unsettled him deeply.
–I don’t know.– Professor Chen was very blunt.
Yang Zicang’s slight annoyance with him eased a bit.
Feeling the information within the engine, according to Moxel’s description, its pulse could beat fifteen times.
–Do you have a permanent residence?– Yang Zicang asked, looking at him.
The scholarly, thin man shook his head.
–Tell you what—I’ve got a territory. How about you come stay with me?–
–Uh, no no no, I’m not interested. Once I fix the engine, I’m going to find Big Peng Zone and turn it into gear. So don’t go around telling anyone the recipe—I’m counting on it to get me through the rest of my life.–
–What grand ambitions,– Yang Zicang sneered, shooting him a look of disdain.
–Who’s like you, Quad? Damn it, I used to draw thirty-six-sided polygons on a blackboard, and now I’m being looked down on by a hick like you.–
Professor Chen spat and rolled his eyes.
Then he spotted something dangling before his eyes.
–A requisition letter!–
He swooped in to grab it, but Yang Zicang pulled it away, and he came away empty-handed.
–I’ll ask you one more time—are you joining my Peng Zone? You heard me, I can build ‘Good Wells.’–
–Wa…– Professor Chen swallowed instinctively, his parched throat tightening.
The terrifying memory of nearly dying of thirst several times, forced even to drink from the Lethe, made his soul shudder.
–You actually have a requisition letter. What’s the name of your Build Crew?–
Without much conviction, Yang Zicang said, –The Build Crew doesn’t have a name yet.–
With one hand cradling his arm, he twisted the index finger of the other to flick at his lip.
To unify his reputation and make himself instantly recognizable by next week, he was mulling over whether to just use his own name.
Professor Chen nodded with feigned politeness: –A new team? Then you’ll need a good name.–
–I’ll think about it. Anyway, I have my own Cargo Crew, my own turf, my own well and land, and most importantly, I’m a pretty decent guy. Miss this village and you’ll never find another shop like it.–
「……」
Professor Chen bared his teeth in a grin, slanting his eyes to look the young man before him up and down.
–Decent guy, huh… So when are you heading back? I need to stay two more days to swap some materials. Anyway, I’m joining the Autumn Bid. If you’re not going, I won’t leave with you.–
Saying that was already a tacit agreement. A Moxel materialized before Yang Zicang’s chest and shot toward the opposite person.
[Yang Zicang wants to Invest me 500N Full Chronos.]
–This is your residency fee for the year.–
–Oh, damn it.–
Who could tell whether the man before him was a human or a ghost?
But what else could Professor Chen say? In this twisted world, just bet the hand he’s dealt.
By the afternoon, Chronos had spent over a thousand more, and the number of Lost Mind Moxels had reached seventy-five. Half the goal of this trip was already accomplished.
Staring at the dull, gray crystals in the bag, Yang Zicang let out a sigh.
–Excuse me.– A thin man in a black coat walked past in a hurry, then spoke to someone squatting by the roadside with a sign: –Found the Jiazi Term yet?–
That person shook his head.
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