Chapter Twenty: The Flying Thief

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At dusk, in a side room of the wilderness temple.

“Master, you have quite a talent.”

Zhang Chengyi tasted a piece of the roasted pork belly and offered his praise.

As a modern man who had crossed into the past, his palate had long been spoiled by all manner of technologically advanced modern seasonings. Many dishes considered delicious in this era were merely passable to him.

Tasty, perhaps, but hardly worthy of special praise.

Yet the monk Huiming truly had a gift. It was rare indeed to find someone who could roast pork so deliciously.

What a pity. What a pity.

Zhang Chengyi sighed inwardly. If Huiming had been a villain, or an ordinary man who could be bought with money, he would not have minded bringing along an extra cook wherever he went.

Unfortunately, Huiming was both a good man and someone with little interest in wealth. There was truly nothing to be done.

“You flatter me, benefactor.” Monk Huiming wiped the grease from his palms and thanked him with practiced ease.

Apart from stewed meat, his specialty was roasting pork right before his guests. His technique was polished, and the meat he produced filled the air with a rich fragrance. It was a live culinary performance, and among the visitors who came by reputation, it was highly praised.

With that, he bowed and was about to leave.

“Wait, Master.” Zhang Chengyi called him back. “You look troubled. Is something the matter?”

Huiming shook his head. “Thank you for your concern, benefactor.” With that, he hurried away.

“Old Su, look into it.”

Whenever something caught Zhang Chengyi’s interest, he was certain to investigate it to the very bottom.

Su Xinghe nodded and left the room.

Zhang Chengyi enjoyed the pork feast spread across the table by himself. Most of the guests who came here were not powerful officials or nobles, but idlers with a little money—though not enough to be truly wealthy.

After all, people of the Song Dynasty genuinely disliked eating pork.

Su Dongpo had even written a poem as proof:

“Huangzhou pork is truly fine,
Its price as cheap as dirt.
The wealthy will not eat it;
The poor know not how to cook it.”

The main reason was that the Song imperial household required the palace kitchens to use only mutton. Among the meats commonly available—beef and mutton—beef was connected to the issue of working cattle, so mutton was mandated instead.

As the saying went, what those above favored, those below would surely imitate. Thus, from the highest ranks to the lowest, the people of the Song Dynasty preferred mutton. Anyone with even a little wealth or status was, just as Su Dongpo had written, unwilling to eat pork.

Monk Huiming’s temple roasted nothing but pork, which naturally kept it far removed from the circles of powerful officials and nobles.

When Zhang Chengyi had asked out of curiosity earlier, the monk had frankly admitted the reason: he was poor and could only afford pork. Besides, he was good at roasting it, and poor people could afford both to buy and eat it.

From Shaolin warrior monk to master of pork?

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He was truly an interesting man.

Moreover, Huiming did not speak like a pedant. Most of what he said was plain and straightforward, making conversation with him a pleasure.

Yet he had shown none of the foul-mouthed vulgarity he had displayed at the gate earlier. His speech was, in fact, quite clean.

That was why Zhang Chengyi was curious about what had happened to make such a good-natured monk curse so fiercely. He would first find out what was going on, then decide whether to meddle.

In any case, once the Golden Mountain Wanderer arrived, peace descended upon the realm; once the Golden Mountain Wanderer arrived, justice itself appeared.

Did they understand the significance of being worthy of inscription as a world heritage?

Whether Huiming would appreciate his help was not something Zhang Chengyi intended to consider.

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Night. The side room.

“Elder Xu. Elder Xu.”

A voice as faint as the buzzing of mosquitoes drifted beside Xu Chongxiao’s ear. He opened his eyes but did not move.

Quite a few roof tiles had been removed, leaving a gaping hole overhead. Narrowing his eyes, he used the moonlight filtering through to make out the intruder.

The man before him wore black night clothes and had a whip coiled around his waist. His eyes were remarkably lively, and his lean figure suggested that his lightness kung fu was excellent. A rope was somehow fastened to something on the roof, with the other end tied to his body.

“I am Bao Qianling, the man who makes a living without capital. I have come at someone’s request to rescue you, Elder Xu,” the visitor whispered into his ear once more.

Bao Qianling, the man who made a living without capital. So this was the notorious flying thief.

Xu Chongxiao understood at once.

The fellow truly was skilled in lightness kung fu. He broke into homes and robbed the rich to aid the poor, and was widely regarded as a hero throughout Shandong. Still, his reputation was decidedly mixed.

He was indeed a good man, but his furtive methods were difficult to respect. In the end, he belonged to the lowest ranks of society.

In the past, Xu Chongxiao would not have bothered to exchange even half a sentence with such a minor figure. But now, he could only humble himself for the moment.

“Thank you.” Xu Chongxiao forced the two dry words from his throat.

Bao Qianling did not care in the slightest. If he had been concerned with how others viewed him, he would have died of shame long ago. There was nothing wrong with being a thief; so long as one’s conscience was clear before Heaven and earth, that was enough.

He peered furtively to either side and said, “Six brothers are waiting outside to receive us. They will certainly help Elder Xu escape.”

The highest-ranking martial elders of the Beggars’ Sect and Cool Breeze Temple were both here. If he did not claim credit now, when would he?

“Mm.” Xu Chongxiao answered impatiently through his nose. They were probably all insignificant figures, not worth remembering.

“Begging your pardon.”

Bao Qianling reached out and caught hold of Xu Chongxiao. Then he tugged on the rope, and the two of them swiftly rose upward.

The speed was so great that even Xu Chongxiao was somewhat surprised. Were the brothers outside really that strong?

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The two of them soon emerged through the hole in the roof, their entire bodies washed in moonlight.

Xu Chongxiao’s face turned deathly pale.

Six men dressed in black night clothes lay sprawled nearby in various positions. Zhang Chengyi was pulling on the rope, watching the two of them with a beaming smile.

Bao Qianling’s expression was equally ugly. He had heard how the other man had defeated the six members of the Shan family, father and sons alike, with a single move. He had not the slightest confidence in resisting him.

Carefully, he began lowering the rope inch by inch.

His body descended a little, only to be hauled upward again.

After this had been repeated four or five times, the rope reached its end. If he loosened his grip any further, they would fall. To his surprise, he discovered that Xu Chongxiao, whom he was holding, had already “fainted.”

“Hi~” Zhang Chengyi called, gripping the rope with one hand and waving with the other, his smile brilliant.

“Hi~”

Bao Qianling’s voice trembled slightly as he imitated him, forcing a smile even uglier than a cry onto his face.

“I heard you say just now that you’re Bao Qianling, the man who makes a living without capital?”

Zhang Chengyi asked curiously.

“That is correct.” Hanging in midair, Bao Qianling summoned his courage and admitted it. What he had undertaken today was already perilous beyond measure. Even if he stood defiantly against this man, what difference would it make?

At worst, he would be a good man again eighteen years from now. He only hoped he would not be reborn as foolish and dull-witted as Shan Boshan.

His heart was pounding, but his expression was one of fearless resolve.

“Then you know Qiao Feng, the leader of the Beggars’ Sect?”

Zhang Chengyi remembered that, in the novel, this man had some connection with Qiao Feng.

Bao Qianling was somewhat puzzled. But when the greatest hero under Heaven was mentioned as someone who had dealings with him, he immediately thrust out his chest and declared, “I, Bao, make my living from business without capital. I carry my entire fortune with me—and my head is right here. You may take it whenever you please.”

A hero like Qiao Feng had once treated him as a sworn brother. Out of gratitude, Bao Qianling had now risked his life to rescue someone. If he uttered even one cowardly word, then in the future he would father a son born without an anus.

“Excellent.”

Zhang Chengyi opened his palm and assumed a stance as though preparing to strike.

“Wait!” Bao Qianling hastily changed his words. “It is true that I, Bao, once had the honor of meeting Qiao Feng, the great hero, on one occasion.”

There was no need to fear lacking firewood as long as the green hills remained.