Simon Ford almost choked with tears as he said, “So it’s gotten this bad, and from beginning to end, no one has cared at all…”

Daniel Walker, seeing that Simon Ford was in low spirits, stepped forward to support him as they slowly walked on. As they walked, he said, “Let’s just focus on making money, making money is what matters. Today, for once, there’s no wind or sand—why don’t we have a few drinks to celebrate?”

Simon Ford grinned and pointed at Daniel Walker, saying, “Are you treating me to drinks?”

Daniel Walker frowned and said, “Honestly, I really don’t understand. You and I, brothers, have been wealthy for ages—so why do we still live so frugally?

Sometimes even I can’t figure it out—why do I wrap a lamb shank in a handkerchief just to save it for lunch…”

“Our ancestors worked so hard to save money…”

Unnoticed, the sun had already risen high, its rays shining impartially on everyone. Even Daniel Walker and Simon Ford were basking in the sunlight, cheerful and carefree.

The camel caravan had already disappeared over the horizon. Before long, these five thousand jin of refined iron would be melted down by the blacksmiths and forged into the finest long blades or arrowheads—deadly weapons for killing!

Volume One: The Self-Cultivation Plan of a Bandit

Chapter One: Conversation with a Wild Boar

The winter in the hills of Guanzhong is harsh and long. Four consecutive years of drought have left vast stretches of land exposed to the elements. When the wind blows, dust fills the air, and the sky turns gray and hazy.

The world has become a world of yellow earth. People can only cower and struggle to survive in the dust. Some die, and before long, the yellow earth covers them.

The towering Qinling Mountains have always been a natural barrier dividing north and south. Ridge after ridge, peak after peak, catch the yellow dust on their sun-facing slopes, preventing it from invading the south!

Lantian County lies at the foot of the Qinling Mountains. Here, like the Loess Plateau, the winters are severe. But thanks to the mountains and its location at the river’s source, it is not dry. Though mostly mountainous, in these times it is one of the few fertile lands in Guanzhong.

A thin blue mist wound around the mountainside, drifting slowly with the morning breeze, making the snow-covered Jade Mountain appear and disappear.

From the village at the foot of the mountain, the occasional crow of a rooster could be heard. The sound couldn’t pierce the thin mist, remaining trapped below and eventually turning into a low, muffled wail.

Unlike the snow-covered Jade Mountain wrapped in green pines and cypresses, right beside it stood a bare hill.

This hill was once covered in trees like the others, but years of relentless woodcutting by the Yun clan had turned it into a bald mountain.

Though called bald, it was still covered in grass—just unimpressive compared to the lush Jade Mountain.

A small, round black dot appeared at the foot of the bald hill. First, it looked up at the towering Jade Mountain, then resolutely began to climb the bald hill.

As the sky gradually brightened, Edward Clark’s little face became clearer. His eyes, so dark they seemed to absorb light, made it hard for anyone to look away.

His body was so small that Edward Clark had to use both hands and feet to overcome the slippery ground and struggle up to the top.

His outfit was ill-suited for climbing: a cotton-padded jacket that squeezed him like a silkworm, thick cotton pants, clumsy cotton shoes, and a red tiger-head hat passed down through generations, all made climbing harder.

Still, he made it to the top.

But the stone slab he usually sat on already had a guest.

Edward Clark still managed to squeeze to the edge of the slab, and the guest kindly made a little room for him.

Sitting down with legs spread wide, Edward Clark let out a long breath. He was so small that his lung capacity wasn’t enough to make his breath shoot out like an arrow.

The stone slab was the sunniest spot in winter. At this moment, the sun was still behind Jade Mountain. Edward Clark tilted his face up, letting the soft morning light fall on his rosy, chubby cheeks. After a long while, he said to the guest beside him, “Do you know who I am?”

The guest didn’t react, but a little guest leaning against him gave a hard nudge, and Edward Clark immediately plopped down on the ground.

There was still some leftover snow on the ground. Edward Clark didn’t feel any pain, patted the snow off his butt, and sat back on the stone slab.

The guest didn’t like to listen to him talk, so he closed his mouth. In these last days of winter, basking in the sun was more important than anything.

The little guest was easy to get along with, but the big guest was not. Whether it was his armor-like tough hide, the two tusks protruding from his mouth, or the dozen scars left from battles with leopards, all proved that he was the true master of this stone slab, while Edward Clark was just an optional visitor.

A little wild boar with stripes on its back had just crawled out from under its mother’s belly, its belly round and full, with two drops of milk still at the corner of its mouth. It unceremoniously nudged Edward Clark with its long snout, generously inviting him to share the sweet milk.

Edward Clark politely declined, and in return, took a piece of millet bread from his pocket and handed it to the little wild boar.

The big wild boar stood up abruptly, stretched out its long snout to sniff the millet bread in Edward Clark’s hand. Sensing nothing amiss, it slowly lay back down and continued nursing the other piglets that hadn’t had their fill.