Chapter Ten: I Don’t Understand the Schemes of This City

“What are you staring at?”
“So what if I’m looking at you?”
“Try looking at me one more time.”
…A hint of unwillingness flashed across An Luo’s face, but he could only avert his gaze.

At the west gate of Sumen Town, Ming Tian and An Luo had their twenty-fifth quarrel since they started traveling together, ending once again in Ming Tian’s total victory.

Ever since An Luo had started accompanying him, he’d worn a sullen expression, as though he’d been suffering from constipation, as if Ming Tian’s engagement to the princess was some unbearable grievance for him.

“Petty man, getting cocky,” An Luo muttered under his breath after turning away.

Unfortunately for him, he was a rough man with a booming voice. The west gate, which led toward the imperial capital Jiankang, was deserted, and Ming Tian heard him loud and clear.

“What did you just say?”
“I said you’re a petty man—so what?”
“Well, I’m the future prince-consort now, so show me some respect.”
“You’re not the prince-consort yet. You may have fooled the princess, but you can’t fool me!”
“Well, aren’t you arrogant? If you’re so great, why aren’t you the prince-consort instead? What, you gonna hit me? Go on, try it!”

“You—” An Luo was clearly the sort who lacked verbal wit—honest, forthright, and easily riled. Ming Tian’s relentless taunting left him at a loss once again.

Ming Tian knew that An Luo was five years older than the princess and had grown up with her. But being born a commoner, and though he was a vice-general, with so few of his Di people around, his actual rank was merely that of a company commander—a far cry from anything that could tie him to the royal family. Besides, the princess could never possibly have feelings for him.

It was obvious the princess had assigned An Luo to protect Ming Tian both out of regard for Ming Tian and trust in An Luo.

But Ming Tian was no fool—quite the contrary, he was very perceptive. It was clear to him that An Luo liked the princess as well. Otherwise, he wouldn’t look as though he’d swallowed a pile of dung every time Ming Tian received the princess’s favor. No man likes a rival in love, and Ming Tian was no exception.

Was it a little unscrupulous to bully An Luo like this? Should he feel at least a twinge of guilt?

Of course not! On the contrary, it was immensely satisfying!

“You’ve waited long enough!” A cool, clear voice rang out at that moment.

He looked up to see Yin Chan approaching, a bundle on her back. Today, she was dressed in women’s clothing befitting her gender, walking toward Ming Tian.

One had to admit: all women benefit from a little grooming. Previously she’d looked ordinary, but with a touch of powder and rouge, she was transformed.

An Luo’s face showed a look of shock and awe the moment he saw her.

Graceful figure, willow-thin waist—apart from the almost nonexistent chest, she was a beauty who would appeal to both modern and ancient tastes.

Her plain looks before had simply been due to wearing men’s clothing and not having washed her face. With such beauty, only imperial consorts could compare.

Of course, she’d been a man in her previous life…

“Greetings, O lady in drag,” Ming Tian said with mock solemnity, clasping his hands.

“Care to see if I’ll punch you?” Yin Chan raised a fist, feigning ferocity.

Had she still been a man, the gesture would have carried some intimidation. But as a woman now, it only made her seem adorably petulant.

Of course, she’d been a man in her previous life…

“And this is…?” After a few jokes, Yin Chan’s gaze fell on An Luo, who was staring at her unblinkingly.

“Oh, this is An Luo. The princess lent him to me as a bodyguard.”

Ming Tian glanced back to find An Luo standing like a statue, his eyes glued to Yin Chan without the slightest movement.

Beautiful! Indeed, in this moment, Yin Chan’s beauty was ethereal—like a fairy, like the scenery of West Lake, like a rainbow revealed after the mist. To An Luo, this graceful yet fiery girl seemed fated for him…

Of course, in her previous life, she’d been a man…

To make matters more awkward, a flush was rising on An Luo’s rough face.

Wait—what is going on here? Don’t tell me… No way, this is just too much! Stop joking, Yin Chan was a man in her last life! A middle-aged man in his forties!

Looking back at Yin Chan, she seemed completely oblivious, simply nodding at An Luo in a hearty, casual way and smiling politely. “Pleased to meet you. I’m Yin Chan.”

As a woman, her manner was almost too charming—on a man’s face it would be mere formality, but on hers it was dazzling. Buddy, do you realize this?

Sure enough, under her friendly greeting, An Luo’s face grew even tauter from shyness and he nodded repeatedly. “I—I’m An Luo, company commander in the Di Zhenfeng Army. Pleased to meet you.”

A man… blushing before a woman who was a middle-aged man in her past life…

Ming Tian, despite himself, conjured up the “philosophical” image of this burly fellow and a middle-aged man, both bare-chested, gazing soulfully at each other against a bubbly pink background.

No, this is too gross—I’m going to puke… My poor esophagus has suffered enough ever since I came to this world!

So the group boarded the carriage bound for the capital. Naturally, Ming Tian paid for it.

Word of Ming Tian’s engagement had set the whole town celebrating. His parents were so overjoyed they’d practically turned somersaults, and naturally, he’d been given plenty of travel money.

He was given twenty taels of silver and two strings of copper coins, totaling twenty-two taels’ worth for the journey.

Don’t underestimate those twenty-two taels. In this cluster of towns, the Zhuge family was barely worth ten thousand taels in total—so twenty-two taels for travel expenses was already extravagant.

Ming Tian couldn’t help but curse at costume dramas—where a single meal costs several taels. What dynasty is that supposed to be?

Twenty-two taels is roughly equivalent to a bit over two thousand yuan in today’s money, but with ancient purchasing power being at least ten times higher, it was really worth more than twenty thousand yuan.

The journey from Sumen to Jiankang was over three hundred kilometers, and in ancient times, with no cars, planes, or trains, hiring a horse team with three drivers and three guards to Jiankang cost only about four hundred copper coins. That shows how valuable money was then—unlike those costume dramas where a meal at an inn sets you back over ten taels.

But ancient times were inconvenient. Twenty-two taels of silver might sound like little, but holding it in your hand, Ming Tian realized what it really meant.

Ancient weights weren’t metric—one tael was about forty-two grams. Twenty taels of silver was about 0.8 kilograms, not heavy at all. The copper coins were, though!

Two strings of coins—a string was a thousand coins, all strung together with hemp rope! They weighed about two hundred taels, over eight kilograms. Altogether, that was like lugging around a medium-sized computer tower.

Add two changes of clothes and some dry rations, and Ming Tian’s bundle weighed a full fifteen kilograms—no way he could just sling it over one shoulder like they do in TV dramas.

Sitting to the left in dignified silence was An Luo; behind the carriage, gnawing on a sour bun, was Yin Chan. Ming Tian was bursting with complaints.

It must be nice to be poor—no money, no burdens! Turns out the rich really can be crushed by their wealth!

No wonder there were so many bandits in ancient times. When money’s this heavy, anyone can see you’re carrying it! Anyone with a hefty sack of coins was clearly worth robbing!

“Miss Yin Chan, it’s dangerous to sit at the back of the carriage like that.”

Ming Tian lazily turned his head at the sound, just in time to see An Luo, after seemingly mustering all his courage, striking up a conversation with Yin Chan behind him.

Yin Chan blinked, puzzled. “Not at all. The carriage isn’t moving fast—how could it be dangerous?”

“It’s not safe to sit back there, anyway. Come sit up here.”

“Uh… oh, thank you.” Poor Yin Chan still hadn’t caught on to An Luo’s honest intentions and moved forward.

But Ming Tian sensed something amiss—he even had a bad premonition.

Wait a minute—there was only room for two people in the front half of the carriage. If Yin Chan came over, where would she sit?

And then—

Ming Tian’s eyes turned as lifeless as a dead fish’s as he watched the scenery recede in the distance, unable to say a word.

Behind him, he could hear An Luo and Yin Chan chatting and laughing together.

Why did you make her come over and push me to the back of the carriage? Shouldn’t you be the gentleman and offer your own seat? Your city ways are too deep for a country boy like me! Wasn’t the back supposed to be dangerous? I’m the future prince-consort! What do you think you’re doing? Are you trying to ruin me?!

……