Chapter 22: A Small Story

In “Jianghu,” the art of throwing hidden weapons is the most difficult to master, far more challenging than archery. Archery relies on the power of arrows and wooden bows, but hidden weapons depend entirely on the user’s internal energy, eyesight, and skill—none of which can be neglected. Additionally, the cost of acquiring them is many times higher than that of arrows.

A set of “Willow Leaf Flying Knives” consists of thirty-six knives, priced at ten taels of silver in weapon shops—many times more expensive than arrows, which cost just one tael per pot (twenty arrows)! Even after investing nearly three thousand taels, Happy only reached the eighth level, meaning nearly ten thousand knives were wasted. Such expenses and losses are quite daunting for a newcomer.

Yet…
Since things had come this far, Happy wasn’t planning to give up. He was determined to earn enough money to advance the “Willow Leaf Flying Knives” to the ninth level.

At present, some of the more advanced and lucrative missions carry certain risks and are too difficult for newcomers. Thus, most players rely on hunting wild beasts in the wilderness or completing tasks assigned by their sects. There are few monetary tasks available through sects, and since Happy didn’t want to compete with other newcomers for the scarce wild beast resources, he had no choice but to look toward the riskier areas outside the city…

Wild beasts!
Bandits and the like were probably not many who dared to tackle them.

Happy’s target were bandits. While wild beasts were more valuable, they required space in one’s qi bag and were inconvenient to transport back and forth. Bandits, on the other hand, left behind mostly silver coins or banknotes after death. In rare cases, they might even yield rare martial arts manuals, making them much easier to collect.

After leaving the city, Happy arrived at the Suzhou River, about ten miles away…

A small boat was moored by the riverbank. A strong-old man wearing a conical hat stood with his back to the shore, fishing in his leisure time.

“Boatman.”

“Here I am, sir. Do you want to cross the river?” The boatman quickly put away his fishing gear and got off the boat to push it away.

“Yes, thank you.”

Happy bowed in gratitude as he boarded the boat.

“Hehe, you’re too kind.”

The boatman was skilled; the boat moved smoothly. Once in the middle of the river, the honest old man seemed to become enthusiastic and started singing…

Happy sat quietly, smiling, as the boat rocked gently, listening to his song.

The boatman’s tune wasn’t fancy or melodious, nor did it have grand or passionate rhythms. Yet its simple singing drifted across the calm river surface, bringing a different kind of heart-stirring emotion.

Having rowed boats for decades…

Occasionally shouting a tune in the style of a boatman is probably the only form of entertainment these simple boatmen have.
But…
Who can say for sure whether this is a kind of sorrow, or happiness that ordinary people simply cannot find or attain?
With so many worldly rules and others’ opinions, the boatman doesn’t care about them, nor does he need to…
As the boat swayed and the boatman sang heartily, Happy felt his mood lighten instantly. He slowly relaxed, leaning casually against the side of the boat, gazing steadily at the calm river surface. His hero’s scarf fluttered in the wind—an indescribable pleasure.
Before long, the boat reached the shore. After paying the fare, Happy prepared to disembark.
Just then, a little girl, covered in dirt and stumbling, ran eagerly along the path by the dock. Seeing the boatman, she rushed into his arms and burst into tears:
“Xiaohuan? Why didn’t you stay at home? How did you end up here…”
The wrinkled boatman grew anxious, realizing something bad must have happened, and quickly asked questions.
Happy immediately realized he had stumbled into some minor storyline and, “luckily,” triggered it. He frowned but didn’t rush to leave.
The girl, Xiaohuan, lifted her heartbroken face and, between sobs, uttered some tragic news:
“Ugh… Grandpa! Mom… Mom was captured by bad guys. Dad was also hurt by them and is still bleeding… Ugh… Grandpa, those bad guys said if we report this to the authorities, they’ll burn down our village next time… What should Xiaohuan do? Xiaohuan wants her mom…”
The boatman was devastated and stamped his feet repeatedly:
“It must be those damned thieves from Heifeng Fort, coming to cause trouble in our village again.”
“What should we do, Embroiderer?”
The honest boatman, who had spent his life rowing, was now at a loss, not knowing what to do, and cried while holding his granddaughter.
“Would you be willing to help this old boatman rescue his son and Xiaohuan’s mother?” As expected, the system promptly sent a prompt, putting Happy in a dilemma.
He frowned.
If it were just about killing a few petty thieves, he could do that. Saving the boatman’s son would also be easy—just a pack of healing medicine would suffice. But going to Heifeng Fort to rescue Xiaohuan’s mother…
To be honest, no player has yet been born who could enter Heifeng Fort to rescue someone!

A stronghold with at least a hundred or eighty fierce warriors—even if the renowned “Blue-Clothed Gentleman Swordswoman” from Gusu City were involved, it would be impossible for her to take on such a group of bandits whose strength far exceeded that of ordinary ruffians, not to mention the presence of elite bandits among them.
Reason told Happy that he couldn’t take on this task.
But then again, everything in “Jianghu” was designed to seem too real; Happy simply couldn’t remain heartless and ignore the girl Xiao Huan’s heartbroken sobs or the old boatman’s helpless tears as he walked away.
Black Wind Stronghold!
Well, if that’s the case, he might as well try to break in.
After all, he had mastered quite impressive skills—Shaolin long fists, Nine Palaces Bagua Sword, and willow-leaf flying knives. Happy comforted himself with a hint of self-mockery.
“Old boatman, Xiao Huan, get up first!” He approached the two who were hugging each other and crying. “Black Wind Stronghold brings evil to the village. As a descendant of the Murong family, I, Happy, can’t just stand by. How about this: first, take me back to the village to save Xiao Huan’s father, and then we’ll figure out a way to rescue her mother.”
“R-Really?”
The old boatman wiped away his tears. The prestigious name of the Murong family gave him a glimmer of hope.
Xiao Huan also poked her head out, looking at the blue-clothed boy with a sincere and determined expression, and nodded eagerly.
The only one who wasn’t happy was Happy…
Along the way, he still had to figure out how to deal with those hundred or eighty bandits in Black Wind Stronghold.
“…Damn those bandits!”
“Heaven must be blind!”
Led by the old boatman, Happy arrived at a small village by the river. There were only a few dozen households, and around one of them, a crowd had gathered. From afar, one could hear various curses full of resentment.
“The village chief is here! Make way!”
The crowd quickly stepped aside, giving way to the old boatman and Xiao Huan, whose faces were filled with sorrow.
Happy followed them inside. A man lay on the bed, his face pale and lifeless, staring blankly at the ceiling—clearly the “father of Xiao Huan,” the embroiderer.