Shadowwwing
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44. The Company You Keep
🕑 Added 2025-05-11 22:00:04 +0000 UTCJiang examined the trader’s post as he got closer, squinting through the icy breeze that seemed to specifically be trying to dry out his eyeballs.
He hadn’t really known what to expect. Liǔxī had occasionally hosted some passing merchant caravans, but they were infrequent and generally quite small. The village itself had been isolated enough that it hadn’t relied on trade and was largely self-sufficient. His father, being a caravan guard, had naturally told him stories about his travels, including descriptions of some of the larger cities and the smaller trading posts.
For starters, most of them weren’t actually open through winter. The added danger of travel meant that most merchants chose to hole up in one of the larger cities and prepare for spring instead. Presumably, this particular post’s proximity to the Sect meant that it was worth keeping busy even in the colder months.
In his mind, he’d pictured the trading post as little more than a collection of tents or timber sheds huddled against the cold. What stood before him was something else entirely.
A low wall of mortared stone ringed the post, not much taller than his chest and capped with wooden slats. It didn’t look like it was meant to keep anyone out—there were no guards, no gates, not even a lookout post. Presumably, it acted more as a windbreak than a defence.
Inside the walls, there were only a few buildings, but they were all larger than normal, squat and solid with thick stone foundations and steeply angled roofs to keep the snow from piling up. From the shape of the buildings alone, Jiang guessed the largest was some kind of communal hall, while the longer building with the wooden shutters set along its side was probably some kind of bunkhouse.
Jiang approached the gate – though considering there was no way to close it, it was more of a gap – without drawing any attention, despite the way the large central courtyard was bustling. People moved between buildings with brisk, practised purpose, bundled in thick coats, wool-lined hoods, and fur-trimmed gloves. The air was rich with the scent of woodsmoke, roasting meat, and the faint tang of manure from the nearby stables.
A dozen or more wagons had been pulled into a rough semicircle around the open yard. Heavy canvas stretched taut over wooden frames, tied down with ropes that creaked faintly in the wind. Some had small fires burning nearby, and clusters of travellers gathered close, rubbing gloved hands or cradling tin cups. A few children darted between wheels and crates, chased half-heartedly by a red-faced woman waving a ladle.
The stables off to one side housed a dozen massive, shaggy oxen. Their coats were thick and matted with snow, and they stamped and snorted in the cold, steam curling from their nostrils. Most had thick blankets strapped over their backs, and a few were being fed nose-deep from barrels of grain mash, their mouths working steadily.
Jiang adjusted his pack, tugging the straps to sit more evenly on his shoulders, and tried not to feel too out of place. Compared to the people around him, he looked woefully underdressed. His hunting leathers were practical, lined and insulated well enough to keep the worst of the cold out, but they weren’t made for standing around. His cloak, for all its quality, was still the kind you wore around town, not trekking through the wilderness.
He could feel the eyes on him, curious glances flicking in his direction as he passed, but no one said anything.
Wonderful. He hadn’t even spoken to anyone yet, and he was already feeling awkward.
Jiang made a beeline for the main hall, ducking through the open doorway into blessed warmth. The sudden contrast hit him like a wave—dry heat from the great stone fireplace at the far end, the smell of woodsmoke and cooked meat clinging to the thick air. The building was bustling, the same as outside, filled with quiet chatter, clinking tin, and the shuffle of boots against the floorboards.
Benches lined the room in uneven rows, some pressed up against long tables, others standing alone near the walls. Most were occupied—traders, haulers, a few bored-looking guards—all in varying states of thawing out. Jackets draped over shoulders, gloves set on mantels to dry. A few heads turned toward him as he stepped inside, but none lingered, which he was thankful for.
Jiang moved over to the fireplace and stood close enough to feel the warmth sink through his clothing and into his body. His cultivation might have ensured that the cold didn’t bother him as much as it used to, but that didn’t make it pleasant.
“Don’t usually see many folks passing through this time of year,” someone said casually beside him.
Jiang turned, a little startled—he hadn’t noticed anyone approaching. The man was broad-shouldered, dark-haired, with a beard that looked more deliberate than scruffy. He held a dented tin mug in one hand and wore a heavy coat with patches on the elbows that spoke of long use and longer roads.
Jiang blinked and gestured faintly toward the rest of the room. “Seems like a fair few people here to me.”
The man chuckled. “Aye, I suppose so. But most of them rolled in with our caravan. The rest live here year-round. Old post like this doesn’t see much traffic on its own—especially not in winter. Hells, we probably wouldn’t be here ourselves if we hadn’t gotten delayed for a few weeks by rumours of a particularly aggressive Spirit Beast hanging around Fangzhou.” The man shrugged. “Probably could have pushed through, but didn’t want to risk it.”
“Ah.” Jiang wasn’t entirely sure how else to respond, so he nodded. The silence that followed wasn’t exactly awkward, but it lingered just long enough for the man to fill it again.
“Name’s Han Shu, but just call me Han; everyone does. I’m the caravan master for this expedition, though the title sounds fancier than the work.”
“Jiang.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Jiang.” Han took a sip from his mug, then jerked his chin toward the sword at Jiang’s hip. “Mind me asking where you came from and if you had any trouble on the road here?”
Jian shifted his weight uncomfortably. Something about Han’s expression made the question seem a little… pointed. Was that a normal thing travellers asked each other or some kind of dig for specific information?
The caravan master clearly read his expression correctly, raising a hand placatingly. “Just wanting to know if there’s anything we need to look out for. We’re usually a little too big for most bandits to go after, but there are always a few desperate people around, especially in winter. Not to mention spirit beasts are always a concern – they’re not often scared off by a bit of noise or fire.”
Jiang nodded slowly. “Right. That makes sense. Uh, and no, didn’t run into anything dangerous.”
Besides that massive spirit beast, of course, but it hadn’t been aggressive, so technically that meant it wasn’t dangerous. Also, he hadn’t thought about it in time, and it was much too awkward to mention it now.
Considering how Han’s expression eased a little, Jiang was starting to wonder if the roads were more dangerous than he thought. How likely was it to run into something?
“Well, that’s a relief, no doubt about it. We’re heading up north ourselves, so hopefully, things will stay nice and quiet.” Han tipped his mug in a mock salute before taking a swig from it. “If you’re heading south, we’ve got some maps you could use?”
Jiang blinked at the offer. That was… rather generous, actually. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of Han. The man was friendly, certainly, but there was something about him that put Jiang slightly on guard. Not that he thought the man would attack him or anything, just… Jiang got the feeling Han was talking around something. “Ah, no, thanks. I’m actually going north as well,” he said belatedly.
Han raised his brows at that, clearly pleased. “Well, would you look at that. Always nice to bump into fellow travellers to share the road with.”
Jiang huffed a quiet breath that might’ve been a laugh. “Suppose it is.”
“I’m already dreading setting off, to be honest,” Han confided with a wink. “This place might not look like much, but compared to a snowbank and half-frozen biscuit, it’s practically a palace.”
Jiang nodded, glancing toward the low rafters, the lanterns flickering gently above the crowd, and the steady line of smoke curling up from the hearth. His stomach gave a faint, traitorous growl, which Han pretended not to notice. “Definitely better than a lean-to.”
Han chuckled again, clearly pleased. “That it is, my friend, that it is. So, what’s your next stop? You aiming for one of the border towns, or are you headed all the way to Qinghe?”
“Qinghe,” Jiang said, then hesitated, not entirely sure how to do this whole ‘small talk’ thing. He was supposed to keep the conversation going, right? “Or at least nearby. I’m going to be looking in the area for…” he trailed off. Talking about the group of bandits that had kidnapped his family was the kind of thing even he knew would make the conversation awkward. “For some people,” he finished lamely.
Great. That didn’t sound weird at all.
Fortunately, Han didn’t miss a beat. “Ah, well, plenty of folk out that way. Traders, farmers, fisherfolk, you name it. Port cities like Qinghe, far enough away from the centre of the province that people tend to ‘overlook’ things… well, get a lot of people passing through. I’ve hauled crates through half the villages between here and Qinghe over the years, and I still can’t keep all their names straight.”
He sipped from his mug, then gestured vaguely at the room. “Wouldn’t be surprised if someone here’s passed through where you’re heading. That’s the nice thing about caravans—they’re noisy, irritating, full of opinions, and they’ve seen just about everything. Someone’s always got a cousin in the place you’re going.”
Jiang nodded thoughtfully. He wasn’t sure how much faith he put in caravan gossip, but the idea wasn’t entirely without merit. After all, the lead he was chasing halfway across the province was realistically little more than caravan gossip, and every little detail could help. It might be worth looking into that further at some point.
Han gave him a sidelong look as if weighing something, then said, a little more casually than necessary, “Well, if you’re heading the same way, you’re welcome to tag along with us.”
Jiang blinked. “Seriously?”
Han shrugged, expression mild. “Why not? Roads are safer with more people, and it’s always good to have another pair of eyes in the wild. Especially ones that aren’t half-frozen or hungover.”
Jiang hesitated. “I can’t pay,” he said bluntly because it was better to get that out of the way now than let it get awkward later. He’d learned that well enough with Old Lao.
“Wouldn’t ask you to.” Han smiled faintly, like it wasn’t the first time someone had said the same thing. “Not charging tolls here. You’re going our way; that’s all that matters. And between you and me,” he added, voice lowering conspiratorially, “having someone along who looks like they know which end of a sword to hold is no bad thing.”
Jiang frowned slightly and looked down at the Jian strapped to his hip. “How do you know I can use it properly?”
That actually caught Han off guard. He blinked, then let out a short laugh. “Alright, fair point, I guess I don’t know for sure. Call it a hunch, though – nobody sane hikes alone through winter with a sword they can’t use, and you don’t strike me as an idiot.”
Jiang cleared his throat and tried to look confident. ‘Yeah, what kind of idiot would do something like that,’ he thought sarcastically to himself. Fortunately, Han didn’t seem to twig on to the reason for this latest bout of awkwardness.
As for the offer itself… well, Jiang may not know why Han was willing to accept a stranger into his caravan, but in the end, he didn’t need to. After all, he hadn’t known – and still didn’t know – why Elder Lu was willing to help him join the Sect, but that had worked out fine.
If nothing else, he’d appreciate the chance to have some properly cooked meals through the journey. His stash of jerky might be enough to keep him going, but that didn’t mean it tasted good.
“Alright, sure,” he said impulsively. “If you’re willing to let me tag along, I’d be happy to join you.”
Han looked almost surprised for a moment. “Wonderful!” he exclaimed with a pleased grin, clapping Jiang on the shoulder companionably. “Best part of travel, I say, getting to meet interesting new people. Speaking of, follow me, and I’ll introduce you to a couple of the other bastards who make up my caravan. Food’s decent here too, if you’re hungry – nothing fancy, but it won’t crack your teeth or poison your guts, which puts it a few notches above some of the places we’ve stopped.”
Jiang tried to smile as Han started pulling him towards one of the tables full of people, but it came out as more of a grimace. The man was just friendly enough and insistent enough that Jiang would have felt bad ducking away, so he was, unfortunately, once again trapped by social expectations.
Wonderful.
