People value money, and on a closer look, such a statement can be quite impolite.
But the woman showed no sign of embarrassment or annoyance, nor did the people around her, as if it was completely natural.
"The worth of a life can be deemed high or low," she said. "So, I'll boldly set a price."
As she spoke, she extended five fingers.
"Fifty thousand taels of silver."
Miss Jun looked at her and laughed.
Why was she laughing? That was indeed no small amount, perhaps the lady should not have mentioned so much.
The injured man looked slightly worried.
Although Miss Jun had ostensibly rescued them, her bearing suggested that she had not killed merely to save people.
These people possessed weapons banned among civilians and were clearly well-trained, their identities and origins shrouded in mystery.
Merely mentioning fifty thousand taels, wealth indeed stirs people's hearts.
"It's pricier than myself," Miss Jun said with a chuckle.
Pricier than herself? The injured man was taken aback by her unexpected remark. What did she mean by that?
"Oh? How so?" The woman inquired calmly.
"I was once offered an escort by someone," Miss Jun said with a smile. "He charged me ten thousand taels."
Ten thousand taels?
The injured man's brow twitched again. What did that mean? What was the implication?
Did it mean she had also been in danger before, so she wasn't that formidable?
Or did it mean that she could easily afford ten thousand taels, so she wasn't short of money?
"That is not a high price," the woman commented, shaking her head. "Miss, you should be worth more."
Miss Jun laughed heartily, covering her mouth with her sleeve.
"No, that was his own asking price. He claimed his services were worth ten thousand taels," she explained, still laughing.
Her laughter made her eyes glisten brightly.
The woman assessed her; though Miss Jun had just killed without batting an eye and wore a dingy red cloak that was anything but conspicuous, as she raised her hand, the beautiful bluegrass lace edged the sleeve, revealing slender fingers with tenderly painted nails, smiling eyes crescent-shaped.
Just like any young girl who was endearing to others, youthful, gentle, and submissive.
And more so, the man she mentioned must have made her very happy.
"Even so, that price is still not high," the woman said with a smile. "Because, Miss, you are worth much more."
Zhu Zan indeed murmured later that he had made a loss.
Miss Jun laughed again.
The injured man seemed to understand—so this was casual chatter, huh?
Was it appropriate for such a situation?
Well, for this young lady, she had enough strength to engage in idle talk in any setting, as long as she wished.
"So, Miss, are you satisfied with this price for me?" The woman asked.
Miss Jun looked at her.
"Alright," she said. "It's a deal."
The woman, supporting the young man's arm, bowed slightly again in thanks.
"Thank you," she said.
"However, you're all injured. First, come to my home so we can tend to those wounds," Miss Jun offered.
The injured man hesitated once more in his heart.
"Sure, it's our pleasure to accept Miss's kindness," the woman responded promptly.
.............
When Miss Jun led the group into the village, the villagers did not show excessive curiosity or gather around.
It was as if the group had always lived amongst them.
Either they had already known they were coming, or they were completely compliant with the Miss's affairs, unhesitatingly trusting her.
Liang Chengdong thought to himself.
Even with compliance, the arrival of so many people would at least warrant a few extra glances, but there were none, not even from the children squatting at the village entrance playing with stones.
Had they been informed in advance?
Throughout the journey, these people had always been with her, and no one had sent a message ahead, they had not encountered any villagers on the road into the village, nor had anyone rushed to relay any messages; the mountain path in the waning winter day was quiet, with only a few bird calls to be heard.
This is indeed a mountain village, just like any other, where the villagers engage in hard labor year-round, including those dozen or so men who murder. They only became astonishing and worth a second look the moment they brandished their bows and long spears. At other times, they are utterly inconspicuous.
Truly a peculiar village.
"Uncles, you've worked hard," Miss Jun said at the entrance of the village.
Although she always says this, everyone still isn't used to it, and with awkward and bashful smiles, they led their horses away.
The presence of bashful smiles on these men's faces made Liang Chengdong's brows twitch.
What kind of people are they exactly? And who trained such a group?
"Hanqing, will you come to my house for a meal?" Miss Jun asked, "I made the fried meatballs you like."
Zhao Hanqing shook his head.
"I'll go home." Her eyes gleamed with excitement, "Have Liu'er bring the meatballs up to me on the mountain."
Today was her first time going out, and first time killing bandits, no doubt she would be excited to recount the experience to Aunt Xiao.
Miss Jun smiled knowingly and waved at her.
Watching Zhao Hanqing stride towards the mountain.
"Come with me," Miss Jun then said to the four men behind her, and pointing to their horses, "Send your horses to the stable. There are people to look after them, and they could use a good rest as well."
Liang Chengdong glanced around; everyone had entered, and now they were in the trap, with or without horses making no difference.
"Then we shall impose on your hospitality," he said.
Miss Jun then called over the children squatting under the Big Green Stone, playing, and asked them to lead the horses to the stable.
The children happily led the horses away.
"Do all the horses here stay together?" Liang Chengdong asked.
"Our village is small, with few people. We work together, eat together, and whatever we have, we raise and use together," Miss Jun replied.
Truly a strange village, Liang Chengdong thought again. Today's events had been strange enough, and caught up in his chaotic thoughts, he followed Miss Jun to the entrance of a courtyard.
A girl and several men came out to meet them, and Miss Jun asked Liu'er to help the woman off the carriage.
The woman didn't decline out of politeness but took Liu'er's hand and stepped down.
"The meal is ready, and the house has been tidied up," Liu'er chirped, "Uncle Lei and the others have also prepared hot water."
Hearing the words 'hot water', the four men subconsciously looked at themselves.
After fighting and injury, bloodstains and mud, it was indeed no longer presentable.
"Uncle Lei, please take care of their wounds," Miss Jun instructed.
Lei Zhonglian agreed and gestured to the men to follow him.
All four men looked at the woman.
"Go ahead, make yourself at home," the woman said and patted Liu'er's hand, "With this little girl to take care of me, you go and rest."
Liu'er exclaimed.
"I won't be taking care of you; I am here to serve Miss," she firmly rejected.
This girl really was... Liang Chengdong's brow twitched again.
The woman simply smiled, without taking offense, and waved them sent off.
The men didn't insist any further and respectfully agreed.
After washing with hot water, they found clean clothes laid out for them, Liang Chengdong's wounds were also carefully dressed, and although the simple house was a bit crowded with three beds, there was still space for a table. On it were already set large bowls and plates of steaming food.
"Fourth Brother," a young man sitting on the edge of the bed whispered, pressing and feeling the bed with his hands, his expression barely concealing his surprise, "There are actually four cotton-padded mattresses laid out."
Even in their own home, they wouldn't afford such luxury.
Such arrangement in a simple dwelling within this remote and desolate mountain village, was this the entire village's effort to provide hospitality?
"Mattresses are nothing," a man standing by the table spoke while looking at a teapot, also with a surprised expression, "This is Ding Kiln's white porcelain; we don't usually get to use this."
And yet it was placed so casually on a table in a mountain village's humble abode.
They had arrived silently, but once inside the village, everyone knew of their arrival, and even the meal, hot water, and house had all been prepared—there must be some unnoticeable method of passing messages they were unaware of.
So concealed, so perfected.
And their stout horses, their bows, a full array of weapons, as well as the luxurious yet casual items before their eyes now.
"I understand now," Liang Chengdong said gravely, "This must be a bandit den."
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