Thomas Ross hoisted the woman onto his shoulder and continued walking back. The woman screamed, "It's on fire!"

Thomas Ross grinned viciously and said, "So what? It's warm!"

☆, Character Profile Seven

The Seventh of the Eight Great Bandits—Simon Ford

The sun had just risen above the horizon when the planks on the main gate of the Henglong Inn were taken down by the workers.

Having not slept a wink all night, Simon Ford stepped over the threshold, gazed at the winter morning sun, and let out a long, heavy breath.

A tall camel snorted in front of him, chewing its food as it slowly ambled past the shop.

Looking at the Mongolian sitting between the camel's humps, then at the camel caravan, Simon Ford's pupils contracted. He forced a smile and cupped his hands, saying, "Are you heading out of the pass, guest?"

The Mongolian grunted, gave no reply, and didn't stop his caravan, swaying off in the direction of the rising sun.

Seeing his master insulted, the worker was a bit angry and was about to catch up to argue with that filthy Mongolian, but Simon Ford stopped him.

"Come back. This time it was my lack of tact. Can't blame him for ignoring me."

The worker took a closer look at the goods loaded on the camel and scoffed, "Master, it's all sheepskin on those camels! Not worth much!"

Simon Ford smacked his lips and said, "Everyone knows cowhide is worth more than sheepskin, but they don't realize we've made far more money from sheepskin than cowhide."

Hearing this, the worker quickly leaned in, eyes lowered, and said, "Please teach me, sir."

Simon Ford shot the worker a look and said, "It's your master and your manager who'll help you learn skills. Why are you asking me about these things?"

With that, he put his hands behind his back and slipped into the mutton soup shop across the street.

On a cold winter day, a bowl of steaming mutton soup and some freshly baked hot flatbread could bring all your energy back after eating.

But today was different. Simon Ford had a bowl of mutton soup and two flatbreads, yet his heart remained cold, and he couldn't warm up no matter what.

A middle-aged man with a short beard walked over, fished a sheep's hoof out of his own bowl, dropped it into Simon Ford's empty bowl, and sat down across from him with a grin. "Have another meal with me!"

Simon Ford remained unmoved, not even glancing at the man in front of him. He just lowered his head, pulled out a long-stemmed pipe from his waist, packed it with tobacco, took a glowing coal from the stove to light it, and started puffing away.

Daniel Walker saw that Simon Ford was unmoved, so he took a brocade pouch from his waist and tossed it onto the table. "Try it, top-quality yellow tobacco."

Simon Ford glanced at the pipe, exhaled a puff of smoke, and said, "What, the tobacco outside the pass doesn't suit your taste? Switching to the Yunnan-Guizhou route now?"

Daniel Walker kept his head down, eating. Hearing Albert Ford's chilly tone, he didn't explain. Only after finishing his bowl of mutton soup and flatbread, cleaning the bowl, did he wipe his mouth and smile, "There's yellow tobacco grown at the foot of Changbai Mountain too!"

Simon Ford was startled. He looked around and, seeing only the busy shopkeeper and no one else in the shop, finally stood up and said to Daniel Walker, "Let's talk somewhere else!"

Daniel Walker chuckled, carefully wrapped the sheep's hoof from his bowl in a handkerchief, and followed Simon Ford out of the mutton shop.

The two walked one after the other out the North Gate. Simon Ford thought for a moment, then climbed up the city wall along a broken gap.

There were no guards on the wall. Daniel Walker pointed to the watchtower in the distance, where two night watchmen were staring at them, and said to Simon Ford, "Those two also eat at our tables."

Simon Ford said quietly, "The great victory at Ningyuan dealt a heavy blow to the Jin emperor, who has now passed away. All the princes and beiles are eyeing the throne with red eyes. I reckon we won't be needed for a while.

Our own emperor has issued an edict forbidding us from doing business with the Jin. If this goes on, even getting a bowl of mutton soup will be nearly impossible for us."

Daniel Walker laughed, "Huang Taiji, Huang Taiji—the Jin emperor gave his son this name precisely to have him inherit the throne.

All along, it's been this man dealing with us. He's capable and open-minded—has he ever shorted us a single tael of silver?

Now there's all this talk outside about a struggle for the throne among the princes. Do you really not know where these rumors come from? You believe such nonsense?"

Simon Ford looked deeply at Daniel Walker and said in a low voice, "Who gave you such confidence?"

Daniel Walker put one hand behind his back and pointed with the other toward Beijing in the southeast. "The emperor likes carpentry. He spent all seven years of his reign doing carpentry, leaving all state affairs to the eunuchs. In the end, it brought down divine punishment—tens of thousands turned to ash in a single explosion.

Do you think a country like that can still be saved?"

Simon Ford said nothing, just stared blankly at Daniel Walker.

Daniel Walker gave a dry laugh and continued, "Ever since the 'Kaizhong Law' was implemented, you and I have been growing grain here on the frontier to supply the army, exchanging the salt certificates for profit at the salt fields.

All these years, we've prided ourselves on not letting down the court. The grain we've supplied has fed the border troops. But how much profit have we ourselves made?

You, Simon Ford, have inherited the family business at the Changlu salt fields, producing sixty thousand dan of salt a year. How much actually ends up in your hands?"