Why do I have so many masters?-Chapter 486 - 145: Waves Sweeping Like Mountains (2/2) (4000 words)

The Great Qin's territory is vast, and if one were to traverse it on foot, a lifetime, even three lifetimes, would not be enough to cover it all. In the previous dynasty, there was a renowned master named Xu Xiake who aspired to walk the expanse of the world, but he only managed to cover half of it before he had to end his journey on the road, lamenting his fate.

His last words were that he intended to see all the landscapes under the heavens but could only leave them for the next life to behold. His greatest regret was that he was mere a hundred li away from the largest lake of the Great Zhou Dynasty. Although it was a lake, it stretched for a thousand li with majestic waves and an expansive vista, distinct from the open sea because it lay inland.

In Thunder County, on the frontier of Great Qin, one of the eighteen Iron Cavalries was stationed with impregnable defenses, and not even a bird from the outside could think of flying in. One more county inward was that vast lake.

It was a place rich in resources, with calm waters that sustained countless common people.

Though it was already the time of the twelfth lunar month when snow fell heavily in the north, this southern region had yet to see the lake freeze; however, the cold was exceptionally biting.

The chill was like water snakes slithering into one's bones, and no amount of clothing could provide enough insulation to block the cold, especially given the additional dampness from being near the water. By their forties or fifties, most locals would suffer from knee problems, and nine out of ten could not avoid it.

Old Lü sat on the deck of a boat.

He was a ferryman—at least, he was now. He had his adventures in the past, but as he grew old, he made his living off the water, his eyes lacking any particular sparkle as he stared blankly at the ripple-on-water, lost in his trance. Not that he was pondering anything in particular—he was just indulging in a jumble of thoughts.

People tend to grow fond of reminiscing in their old age.

The weather was cold, so he drew his clothes tighter around him and let his mind wander aimlessly. They always say the south is warm, and the north cold; if the south is so hard to endure, wouldn't the northern winters be unbearably freezing?

It was a regret that he could not continue traveling northward in his younger days; otherwise, he would have seen the northern scenery.

The New Year was fast approaching.

These days, he had made a fair amount of money, but given today's situation, most people had already made it home, and the peak season for his business had passed as well. He exhaled a breath of white air, invigorated his spirit, and prepared to go home early, planning to sip some hot wine and warm his body—a small luxury.

Just then, the bow of the boat shifted slightly.

Having ferried at this spot for a long time, Old Lü knew instinctively that someone had boarded. Feeling a bit relieved, he thought that today he might not only drink some wine but also afford some appetizers. He scurried out of the cabin to see a somewhat aged man standing there.

His hair was completely white, but his shoulders were broad, seeming even more robust than a young man. As he turned to look at him, his features were striking and upright, and something about them looked familiar. The old man nodded at him, saying,

"Ferryman, let's cross."

"Right away."

Hearing business knocking, ferryman Old Lü said nothing further, swiftly untying the mooring ropes, pulling them on board, folding them neatly, and then grabbing a bamboo pole.

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Grasping firmly with both hands, he gathered his inner strength and pushed off the shore. The boat, like a leaf, floated effortlessly away, leaving many ripples in its wake on the water.

As the boat took to the water, Old Lü eased his grip and started a conversation,

"Where does the guest wish to go?"

"To the opposite shore? Or one of the downstream ferry points?"

"I'm old, and my strength isn't what it used to be; if it's any farther, I really can't make the crossing..."

The elderly gentleman was silent for a moment, then said,

"Please, ferryman, just head towards the Three Chuan Gorge..."

"Three Chuan Gorge?"

Old Lü was startled inwardly, glancing at the old man's broad back, and asked,

"May I know the respected elder's surname...?"

The old man glanced at him and spoke slowly,

"Li. As in ' separation '."

"Li, as in 'separation.'"

Old Lü wracked his brain but couldn't find this surname among those he was familiar with. The Li surname was quite rare under the Qin Dynasty; he had only heard of one in his youth, and as he grew older, he had only encountered a few more.

The Li-surnamed elder took the initiative to ask,

"What is it, ferryman?"

"Is it not possible to go to Three Chuan Gorge?"

Old Lü snapped out of it and chuckled, "If it were anywhere else, I might not be able to make it, but I frequent Three Chuan Gorge; I'm very familiar with the place. However, guest, Three Chuan Gorge isn't called that anymore; now it's known as Deadman Gorge."

"Deadman Gorge?"

The old man echoed, questioning,

"Why's that?"

Old Lü shook his head while propelling the boat and explained,

"Too many have died there. The lake was once dyed red, so it was renamed Deadman Gorge. Back then, several counties around our Great Qin fell under the Xianbei state founded by the southern barbarians, who presumptuously called themselves Yan."

"Every year, people of Qin were killed and their bodies thrown into the lake."

"That's when the water turned red."

Mr. Li was silent for a moment, then said,

"It was not named Deadman Gorge when I came here."

Old Lü laughed,

"Of course not. Half of the blood in Deadman Gorge belonged to people of Qin, and the other half to those Yan of Xianbei. In the end, it turned red because of a deadly battle waged twenty years ago when Qin attacked Yan. You, elder brother, might have arrived even earlier than that."

Qin's campaign against Yan.

Mr. Li grew silent, and even Old Lü stopped speaking.

Nowadays, Great Qin governed a full seventy-two counties. However, who could have imagined such an extent when the empire was first unified?

Back then, the Central Plains were devastated by a mysterious organization known as the Star Palace; internal conflicts caused our own to fight and bleed each other dry. Meanwhile, foreign nations, like hungry wolves eyeing plump meat, rode their cavalry through the chaos of Jianghu's infighting and the discord among lords, relentlessly biting, impossible to fend off.