Chapter 153 Day 17 of Transmigrating into an Imperial Examination Novel

Chapter 153: Day 17 of Transmigrating into an Imperial Exam Novel

An Yi chatted a bit about family matters with the old woman, then said goodbye and headed to Qingxi Lou, the liveliest tavern in town.

Sunlight filtered through the tall parasol trees at the mouth of the alley, casting dappled, shifting patches of light on him, making his profile as flawless as jade, his demeanor ethereal and refined.

Just as he stepped out of the alley and turned onto the slightly wider main street, before he even reached the tavern, the rapid, pounding sound of hooves grew closer from a distance, shattering the lazy peace of the small town afternoon.

Clop-clop—clop-clop—

The sound came from the street corner, and soon, several riders came into view.

The lead rider sat astride a magnificent jet-black steed, its saddle and bridle were standard military issue, giving off a deadly aura.

The man on horseback was imposingly tall and straight; even sitting upright in the saddle, his broad shoulders and long legs were obvious, seeming to brim with explosive power.

He wore a black form-fitting outfit with a worn leather vest over it, a long saber strapped at his waist. His face was cold and angular, with rugged features.

His skin was a healthy tan from years of wind and sun, his features were chiseled and handsome.

But a small, pale scar like a centipede slanted upward from just past his left eyebrow into his forehead. Instead of marring his looks, it gave him an intimidating ferocity that made it hard for people to meet his eyes.

Behind him came five or six soldiers, equally skilled horsemen with sharp, alert looks, clearly his personal retinue.

The group reined in at the intersection, as if getting their bearings.

A soldier riding half a step behind the man nudged his horse forward and asked in a low voice, "General, it's noon. We've been riding hard for days. The men are exhausted and starving. Maybe we should find a place to grab a bite and rest a bit?"

The man they called General swept his gaze across the somewhat chaotic street, sharp and carrying the murderous aura of a battle-hardened veteran. Wherever it landed, the curious townsfolk instinctively shrank and looked away.

Expressionless, he casually pointed at a tavern that seemed clean and roomy. "We'll eat there."

The soldiers behind him all breathed a silent sigh of relief, their faces relaxing. Finally, a rest! God knows what it's like traveling with this guy!

This guy was ruthless not only to enemies, but to himself and his men—incredibly demanding. When he was on the move, it was like they were fighting for their lives. Though his personal guards were elites, days of grueling riding had left them exhausted and under massive pressure.

An older soldier who had been with Qin Cang from the start watched the general's imposing back and couldn't help clicking his tongue in his mind, recalling two years ago.

Their general's name was Qin Cang.

He wasn't from any military lineage; no, the old general had picked him up two years ago while out suppressing bandits.

Rumor had it that when discovered, the general was only sixteen, drenched in blood from head to toe. By himself, with nothing but a broken chopper, he had killed eight or nine fierce bandits.

He himself was gravely wounded, with several wounds on his chest and back so deep you could see the bone. While unconscious, he kept muttering stubbornly, over and over...

"Yi... An... Yi..."

The older guard had been nearby at the time, hearing it faintly, and wondered if this kid thought killing bandits was easy—was that why he was so reckless?

The thought of it sent chills down his spine.

Later, the old general saved the youth, who clawed his way back from the brink of death with sheer wolf-like tenacity.

After he healed, the old general, admiring his ferocity, kept him in the army.

To everyone's surprise, Qin Cang not only was fearless—charging like a mad tiger on the battlefield—but was also literate and even had considerable insight into military tactics and formations.

In two years, he went from an unknown soldier, through countless suicidal charges and real military achievements, to a junior officer position under the old general, able to lead his own unit.

His rise was astonishing.

But no one in the army resented him—after all, who would dare to disrespect a ruthless bastard who always charged into battle first and actually led them to victory?

Moreover, their General Qin seemed to especially like assignments that took him away from camp.

Whether it was border patrol, escorting supplies, or this kind of official dispatch—anything that let him leave the garrison and go somewhere different—he was always the first to sign up.

The old general once asked him why. The soldier happened to be on guard duty at the time and heard their general reply, after a long silence, in an almost obsessive tone:

"I'm looking for someone."

"Oh? Who?" the old general asked with interest.

"Someone... someone very, very important to me." Qin Cang's voice was low, but carried an obsession etched into his bones.

Very, very important?

The guard had privately speculated then—what kind of person could make their general so obsessed, as if it had become an obsession, searching everywhere? Maybe a wife who ran away?

Yes, that must be it!

Only if a wife runs away would a man be so fixated, searching to the ends of the earth to find her.

Thinking this, the guard couldn't help but grin secretly, finding it amusing.

So even their intimidating general had his own family troubles; even his wife had run away!

Unlike his own wife, who was fierce but never thought of leaving.

Comparing the two, the guard actually felt a strange sense of superiority.

He was still chuckling when he instinctively looked up and his gaze swept across the entrance of Qingxi Lou.

At that moment, An Yi, carrying his wine pot, was calmly stepping onto the tavern's steps. His slender, upright back, like a celestial being, caught the guard's eye.

The guard thought the man's bearing was extraordinary, completely incompatible with their dusty, ruthless soldiers.

Meanwhile, Qin Cang, riding at the front, had turned his head to speak to his guard when, for no reason, his heart suddenly throbbed, as if something had clenched around his heart.

He instinctively pulled the reins, and the black horse snorted in protest, stopping.

He whirled around, his cold, sharp gaze shooting toward the tavern entrance like a bolt!

Nothing.

The entrance was bustling with ordinary diners and townsfolk, nothing out of the ordinary.

An illusion?

Qin Cang frowned deeply, the scar at his brow becoming more ferocious.

His fingers gripping the reins were white from excessive force, and that nameless agitation and emptiness in his chest grew even stronger.

An Yi... where on earth are you?

He shut his eyes for a moment, forcefully suppressing the seething anxiety and fury that threatened to consume him.

When he opened them again, his eyes had returned to an icy calm.

"Dismount."

He commanded in a cold, hard voice, dismounted first with practiced ease, tossed the reins to the approaching waiter, and strode into the Green Creek Inn.

The guards behind him dared not delay, quickly dismounting and following.

As for An Yi, he had already entered the inn's main hall, found a seat by the window from which he could clearly hear the storyteller's stage, and sat down.

He gently placed the wine flask on the table, called a waiter to order two dishes, and casually poured himself a cup of slightly sweet osmanthus wine, ready to enjoy the leisurely afternoon.