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In the beginning, these stones weren’t valuable, and everyone mined them haphazardly and picked them up casually.

As time went on, some martial artists who practiced martial arts found that these stones were hard and quite attractive, so they used them to hone their cultivation levels by crafting them into various items.

For instance, the pair of stone balls that Feng Jun bought, Lang Zhen believed, was likely idly crafted by these martial artists.

Of course, since the crafted items were quite attractive, the martial artists could sell them to supplement their household income on top of their cultivation, which was even better.

Hearing this, Feng Jun couldn’t help but think of the jade box he found broken in half. It turned out, the contents of that jade box might not be important at all, and even… the box itself was quite cheap.

All along, he had his doubts; the valley he passed through, although rarely visited by humans, was not exactly inhospitable to them. So why was such a beautiful jade box discarded there, untouched?

Now, he finally had his answer-it was too cheap.

Let alone a broken jade box, even a good one tossed aside might not compel someone to stoop down for it.

As for the unpolished piece of Mutton Fat White Jade, it definitely wasn’t something that the unfortunate soul took with him when jumping into the river.

More likely than not, it was just a stone that the killer grabbed at random, tied to the body, and dumped in the river to weigh it down.

Yes, a fine piece of Mutton-fat jade seed material was simply used as a stone to sink a corpse.

Just then, Lang Zhen’s voice reached his ears, “Back in the day, I picked up a stone and polished it into a big bowl. Once during an ambush in the wild, I threw it as if it were just a rock, buying me some time…”

Upon hearing this, Feng Jun couldn’t help but twitch at the corner of his mouth, as coal tar, treated as a stone and thrown away…

However, Lang Zhen hadn’t finished speaking, “This stone can also be made into a food box to keep insects and ants out, and during winter when pickling vegetables, it can be used to press down on the pickling jar.

By this point, Feng Jun was completely speechless, a food box? Using jade to press down a pickling jar?

Night fell quickly, and the two were on the road again, this time with Feng Jun riding a motorcycle.

During their journey, they encountered other night travelers, but the motorcycle’s headlights were so glaring that most didn’t dare come close to look.

Until one day, they ran into a party of over a hundred people.

This party had its fair share of skilled individuals; in fact, seven or eight people rode horses in pursuit, for reasons unknown.

Lang Zhen first shouted out the Tianyong Army’s password, claiming to be on official military business, demanding clearance from civilians-he was familiar with the Tian Xiong Army’s protocols as a soldier himself.

The pursuing martial artists paid no heed to this, instead commanding them to stop.

Lang Zhen, holding Feng Jun’s heavy crossbow, didn’t hesitate to shoot an arrow, hitting the lead horse squarely in the chest and belly, while shouting, “Pursue further at your own risk!”

The horse, struck by the arrow, immediately fell to the ground. Its rider s reaction was swift; he somersaulted off the horse and landed firmly on the ground.

Seeing that their opponents actually dared to shoot arrows, using the unheard- of full steel arrow, the pursuers hesitated to continue the chase, instead shouting chaotically, demanding the other party’s name if they were brave enough.

After this incident, Feng Jun and Lang Zhen realized that something was amiss, so they decided to head straight for a county called Ning Lan.

On the outskirts of the town outside the county, Feng Jun had to send back the weapons and the motorcycle to the real world and hid the rest of his supplies. Then, Lang Zhen showed his worldly wisdom. In town, they spent a gold leaf and sixty silver coins to buy two nag horses and a cart.

The price of the horses was a bit high, but there was no helping it; the stable really didn’t want to sell and preferred to make money by providing services- no extra payment meant no sale.

Unfortunately, the idea that Lone Wolf had for Feng Jun to register himself in this place came to nothing.

He had hoped to at least create a false identity, but the stable owner declared, “I won’t partake in such illegal activities.”

Lang Zhen afterward told Feng Jun, “If he won’t sell, forget it. Once we reach

Xiyin City, I’ve got connections to help you out.”

In fact, once they arrived in Ning Lan, Xiyin City was within sight. They loaded the goods onto the cart and, after a decent rest that day, reached the outskirts of Xiyin City at dawn the next day.

Xiyin City was not small; it was roughly four miles in both length and width, and there were plenty of houses beyond its walls.

Soldiers guarded the city gates. Lang Zhen entered the city with his ID, while Feng Jun could only stay outside to watch the cart.

Looking at the disordered houses nearby and the noisy crowds, Feng Jun couldn’t help but mutter, “Is this what they call… a slum area?”

However, the fact that so many people lived outside the city, in bustle but not in chaos, suggested that the order in Xiyin City was quite good, free from disasters and war.

Seeing a cart parked not too far away, a group of four or five men came around. After sizing up Feng Jun, a thin middle-aged man approached with a smile and said, “Brother, what happened to your hair?”

Feng Jun didn’t dare to be capricious this time, only giving the man a glance before indifferently uttering two words, “Hair fire!”

“Then you’re quite lucky,” the middle-aged man continued to chuckle, “The fire only burned the hair, but the person is unharmed.”

Feng Jun gave him a look, initially not wanting to engage, but thinking that he eventually had to integrate into this society, he nodded slightly with an expressionless face and said no more.

However, his response inspired the gaunt man, who asked with a smile, “Young brother, where are you from?”

Great, it went from brother to young brother in no time.

Feng Jun glanced at him sidelong, took out a cigarette, lit it with a lighter, took a deep drag, and exhaled a satisfying cloud of smoke before slowly saying three words, “You got business?”

Although Xiyin is a prefectural city, who here has ever seen cigarettes and lighters?

The middle-aged man swallowed his saliva and asked with a smile, “Young brother, that’s a nice cigarette you got there, can you spare one for your elder brother?”

Feng Jun took another leisurely drag, exhaling the smoke through his nose, “Why should I?”

“It’s just a cigarette, what’s with the why?” A tall and sturdy man walked up and reached for the pack of cigarettes, “Speaking to you, an outsider, is giving you face.”

Feng Jun had been very careful to hide his accent, and he was also striving to learn the local dialect, but no matter how few words he spoke, there were still subtle differences in his accent, differences these folks could not be deceived easily about.

Seeing the man reaching out, Feng Jun pulled a folding knife from his leg and, without a word, chopped down.

The tall and sturdy man was swift as well, seeing the gleam of the blade, he dodged and retreated more than a meter away.

Seeing the strange and shiny blade in the opponent’s hand, his face darkened, “Damn, you dare use a weapon? Brothers… together now, let’s show this outsider he can’t run wild on Xiyin’s turf.”

Seeing this, the other men slowly closed in with cold faces, ready to side with their fellow locals over a regional dispute.

Feng Jun reached inside the carriage and took out a loaded heavy crossbow, pulling the trigger.

With a soft “thud,” half a meter in front of the tall and sturdy man, a steel arrow buried itself into the ground, leaving less than an inch of the tail visible.

The men collectively gasped at the sight, accustomed to dealing with outsiders, and usually relying on their local status to bully them.

Now, the outsider they saw, not only young with a horse and carriage, carrying goods but also alone, seemed like someone they felt they should take advantage of to not let themselves down.

But never in their wildest dreams did they imagine that the other party would dare to draw a knife, and even more so to actually fire a crossbow.

The tall man’s face sank, “He dares to carry a crossbow in secret. Brothers, go quickly and tell the Arrest House.”

“What’s all this?” Just then, from behind a nearby building, two figures appeared, both dressed in constable uniforms, one holding an iron ruler and the other with a single-edged knife hanging at his waist.

“Good day to you, Brother Zhu,” the thin middle-aged man greeted with a bow, saying with a smile, “An outsider here, with a fine steel crossbow, wanted to harm people… This matter, we cannot ignore.”

“Nonsense,” the man holding the iron ruler snorted contemptuously, “It’s you lot again, isn’t it? Trying to bully outsiders and finding yourselves up against tough opposition, eh?”

“I really didn’t want to bully him,” the thin middle-aged man complained, “I just wanted to ask for a smoke… a smoke, does that count for anything?

His logic was not flawed; as mentioned earlier, tobacco was not yet a widespread industry in this realm, and people casually grew it on their lands, often willing to share a little with others who enjoyed smoking.

“Cut the nonsense,” the iron ruler constable snorted coldly, frowning in disgust.

He seemed to have considerable prejudice against these fellows, “Who would grudge a smoke? You must be looking for trouble on purpose, right?” “It’s really just over a smoke,” the tall and sturdy man spoke up, his tone not much better, “This guy drew his knife and went for me.”

At that, the two constables turned to look at Feng Jun.

“Roll-up cigarettes?” The constable with the knife caught on, surprised, “You’re quite generous.”

Unconcerned, Feng Jun smiled, took out two cigarettes, and tossed them over, carrying those without filters, not worrying about giving anything away.

The iron ruler constable coldly stepped aside, letting the roll-up cigarettes fall, while the Hanging Knife Constable caught one, looked it over with a smile, sniffed it, then said, “Nice smoke… and I haven’t yet asked, sir, from whence do you hail?”

Feng Jun tossed the butt of his cigarette away, lit another with his lighter, and replied leisurely, “From where I come.”

“Oh, that’s interesting,” the Hanging Knife Constable chuckled, then reached out a hand, “That fire-starter, lend it to me for a moment.”

(Update coming, the story will be going live in the early morning, there will be additional updates at that time, so hurry and check for the basic monthly tickets, folks. Also, some say they like Feng Xiao’s urban tales more than the fantasy ones, well, Feng Xiao can only say: cherish life, stay away from 404.)