Chapter 13: An Urchin

The first few days were a whirlwind of new sights, from a beached animal carcass to the construction of a new fishing vessel. He took in everything about this new world he was seeing. It was like the medieval age of Earth, except it was a mystical world. He did not know what kind of power people had in this world, but he could feel some warriors filled with a power or energy of some kind, similar to what Zhenli had used the first time.

While roaming one day, Wuyi and the pup ran into local children. Some were occupied with menial tasks related to their parents' trades, while others were as idle as Wuyi and Haowen. Social norms seemed nonexistent among children; introductions and formalities were unnecessary. Most were older than Wuyi. What mostly interested them was the hound by his side.

No adult paid him any attention. A stray boy and stray hound were not special here. Initially, Wuyi was not curious about the local kids, but slowly he realized how these kids were quick-witted, making a coin or two here and there.

Initially cautious, Wuyi soon found that the children did not mind if he followed them around. Maybe it was his old past life habit that made him immune to finding illegal activities wrong because if these newfound kids were a rowdy, scruffy bunch compared to the working children, Wuyi hardly noticed. And if anyone had told him they were notorious pickpockets banned from entering the fortress, he would have been pleased that he chose the right bunch to follow. All he knew was that the days had turned out to be quite entertaining for him.

Each day that followed drew Wuyi irresistibly back to the lower town and his newfound gang of street urchins. Boluo, burdened by his responsibilities and preoccupied by the ongoing Springfest, hardly noticed Wuyi's absences. Every evening, Wuyi would return to his mat before Boluo's hearth, fulfilling Boluo's limited expectations of guardianship.

Given that Boluo had once served the young master of the Yuanjing Clan, he was now considered the official guardian of Wuyi. Boluo himself felt burdened with the care of Wuyi, the illegitimate child of that very young master. His thoughts were undoubtedly consumed by his uncertain future. Through no fault of his own, his destiny was now inextricably tied to Wuyi. Boluo was convinced that the noble clan of Wuyi's father, with which he had no affiliation, would associate the child's exile status with him. Whatever destiny they assigned to the child, they might end up assassinating him as well.

Compounding his worries was his unhealing injury. Despite his proficiency in treating animal wounds, he struggled to heal himself. Wuyi had witnessed the unhealing scar on Boluo's leg a few times—it was a grim sight; the wound must have been very grave. While Boluo initially cursed his misfortune when he received the wound, his curses had turned to weary despair as time passed. He had eventually managed to close the wound, but a knotted scar marred his leg, altering his gait. Boluo used to be a warrior, not just a beastmaster, but it seemed like between guarding Wuyi and his injured leg, his life as a free warrior had come to a certain end. Thus, preoccupied with his thoughts and taking care of the beasts in the fortress, Boluo paid little heed to Wuyi.

Wuyi roamed freely, largely unnoticed. There were times he was noticed if he had the hound nearby; sometimes, to avoid attention, he would move around alone. When Springfest ended, even the guards at Lujingbao Fortress had become accustomed to his daily escapades, likely mistaking him for one of the many errand boys in the fortress. He honed his skills in foraging, securing breakfast for Haowen and himself from the fortress kitchens. Scrounging for extra sustenance—be it steamed buns from vendors or seaweed and smoked fish from the shore—became routine. Some outlaw kids, aged 8 to 9, emerged as his most frequent companions.

As the days stretched into summer, the town of Lujingbao eclipsed the fortress as the center of his world. The lower town buzzed with activity; ships from the Inland Provinces sailed down the Lujing River, their crews discussing water levels and navigation markers. Their cargo would be transferred to the town's shops or warehouses and eventually loaded onto sea-bound vessels.

Sea sailors would scoff at the rivermen. There was only one big river that ran through this desert, but to those who traversed the sea, people trading and boating on the river were nothing but subjects of their contempt. They conversed about tides, storms, and starless nights that rendered navigation tricky. Fishermen added to this bustling tapestry, particularly cheerful when the season was good for fishing.

The children he had befriended introduced him to the labyrinth of wharves and teahouses, teaching him how to hustle as a message runner along the narrow alleys and steep inclines of Lujingbao Town. They prided themselves on being nimble and clever, undercutting the older boys by asking for just a single copper piece for quick errands. Those days imbued Wuyi with a fearless spirit that he had seldom felt since his birth.

He lived each day to the fullest. The aroma of incense resin and fresh wood chips from the shipyards, where craftsmen shaped timber with skillful strikes of their tools, filled the air. The tantalizing fragrance of freshly caught fish competed with the less pleasant stench of spoiling catches in the afternoon sun. Silk bales and barrels of aged wine contributed their own layers to the air, mixed with the scent of hay and crates of hard-shelled melons. All these aromas were carried by the wind that came off the bay, salty and tinged with sea brine.