Chapter Forty-Nine: I Want to Buy Her

“Father,” Luther called out as he ran to Isidore.

Sun Licheng’s heart sank. It seemed this fellow had powerful backing.

“What happened here?” Eve asked coldly, her expression frosty.

Christina hurried over and recounted the events.

After hearing her granddaughter’s explanation, Eve’s face was full of puzzlement. She couldn’t quite understand why Sun Licheng had acted this way—after all, it was just disciplining a slave girl. Luther was Isidore’s only son, pampered and indulged; he would never let this go easily.

She noticed Isidore’s face growing darker as he listened to his son’s account, and she sighed inwardly.

“That’s enough. Today is a day of celebration, with Sun Licheng visiting our tribe as an honored guest. Let’s not let minor matters upset us. Sun Licheng, come, tell me about your experiences,” Eve said after a moment’s thought, deciding to let the matter drop and leading Sun Licheng away.

Isidore, seeing the chieftain did not wish to escalate things, glared at the slave girl, took his son, and returned home as well. As they left, Luther shot the slave girl a sinister grin, making her tremble like a leaf.

That evening, the Silver Moon Tribe held a grand banquet to welcome Sun Licheng, and the festivities lasted all night.

The next morning, Sun Licheng crawled out from beside the Wolf King. The night before, Vol had enthusiastically invited him to sleep within the cave—a place reserved for the tribe’s leaders. The cave was spacious, but there were so many people inside. Some talked in their sleep, some snored loudly, and others engaged in activities that made Sun Licheng blush. It wasn’t long before he slipped away, braving the Wolf King’s complaints, and spent the night in its embrace.

When he awoke, he saw many goblins already busy with their work. Rubbing his sleepy eyes, he made his way toward the stream outside the camp to wash up.

On the way, he saw the slave girl who had been beaten the day before. She bowed to him in gratitude. For reasons he couldn’t explain, even faced with her ugly features, Sun Licheng felt a surge of good cheer. He waved to her and continued on his way.

“How strange, what’s wrong with me? Perhaps it’s old habits from Earth—I can’t stand to watch the weak be bullied, even if they’re slaves. Maybe that’s the mark of civilization,” he mused, unable to find a better answer.

Refreshed after washing, Sun Licheng decided to make time today to speak with Eve about gathering information.

As he approached the council hall, he heard a scream—eerily similar to the slave girl’s voice from yesterday.

His heart skipped a beat. Following the sound, he saw Luther lashing the slave girl with a whip. She rolled on the ground, screaming and begging for mercy, while Luther grinned cruelly and his cronies cheered him on.

“Stop!” Sun Licheng shouted instinctively, rushing forward.

He was furious. Luther’s actions were clearly aimed at him—a petty revenge for yesterday, a direct provocation he could not tolerate. If he backed down now, all the advantage he’d gained would be lost. How could the Silver Moon Tribe willingly help him gather information if he appeared weak? In this world, reason meant nothing—only strength mattered.

Moreover, seeing the slave girl beaten, Sun Licheng felt again that strange force stirring within him, robbing him of calm, filling him with a single-minded urge to protect her.

Luther and his gang were clearly prepared. As Sun Licheng charged, they pulled out long wooden sticks and smirked maliciously.

Minutes later, Isidore stood gaping, watching his son and his followers groaning on the ground, while Sun Licheng—like a god of war—stood hands on hips between them and the slave girl, a litter of shattered sticks at his feet.

“Truly formidable,” Eve remarked as she stepped from the council hall with Isidore, drawn by the commotion.

She immediately saw through the trap set by Isidore and his son but did nothing to stop it. As the chieftain of a great tribe—or so she considered it—she believed that for her people to help Sun Licheng, he must pay a price. The gifts he had brought yesterday were generous, but not enough. At the very least, he needed to prove his strength.

“All of you, stop! Brawling at first light—what is this? Luther, get up like a man and tell me what happened,” Eve barked, her tone sharp.

Bruised and battered, Luther struggled to his feet, pointing at the slave girl. “She dirtied my new leather skirt! I only meant to teach her a lesson, but Sun Licheng charged over and beat us without a word. Ow…” He tried to gesture at Sun Licheng but pulled at his injuries, doubling over in pain.

Vol wanted to smooth things over, but Isidore spoke first.

“Sir Sun Licheng, you may be our guest, but you have no right to interfere in our internal affairs, especially not by assaulting our people,” Isidore said coldly.

Sun Licheng was momentarily at a loss for words. He knew Isidore was right. No matter how he felt, the woman was their slave, and by attacking Luther and his allies, he had indeed meddled in their tribe’s internal matters. Worse yet, every time he saw her being beaten, he lost all composure—how could he possibly explain that to everyone?

Seeing Sun Licheng’s discomfort, Vol wanted to speak up, but his mother discreetly signaled him to stay silent, so he closed his mouth in frustration.

“I simply can’t stand to see Luther bully that woman,” Sun Licheng replied after a moment, forcing out a justification, refusing to lose his momentum.

“Well, who would have thought Sir Sun Licheng fancied such women?” Isidore laughed loudly.

“Don’t talk nonsense about women or not. I just can’t stand to see the weak oppressed. Even a slave deserves dignity,” Sun Licheng said, giving voice to his conviction as Isidore tried to twist his meaning.

But as soon as he finished, he noticed everyone’s expression turning odd. Even Christina, who had just rushed over after hearing the news, wore a strange look.

Isidore and his son’s group burst out laughing. “Slaves with dignity? What dignity do slaves have? Giving them food is dignity enough! Ha!”

Sun Licheng felt his temples throb. Anger flared uncontrollably within him, nothing like the calm maturity of a man in his forties who had weathered so much.

“Slaves do have dignity! Very well, I’ll buy her. From now on, she’s mine!” Sun Licheng roared.

Isidore’s laughter stopped abruptly. “You really want to buy her?” he asked, pointing at the slave girl, clearly shocked.

“Yes,” Sun Licheng replied, his tone firm and unyielding.

Isidore’s eyes flickered, his face quickly shifting from dark to bright, and he smiled. “She’s only a slave girl. Since you saved Vol, we’ll give her to you.”

Sun Licheng’s face darkened. “How calculating. Saving a tribal chief is worth nothing more than a slave girl you beat and scold at will? This is a cunning move to force my hand.”

“No, I’ll buy her. Name your price,” Sun Licheng insisted, even as he recognized the trap.

Isidore was delighted. “What should I ask for? His knife is nice, those spice recipes too, and I like that wolf. But with the chieftain here, it should be something for the tribe.”

Raising his voice, Isidore declared, “Our tribe lacks salt. If you can bring us enough salt, the slave girl is yours.”

“How much salt do you need?” Sun Licheng pressed.

“Well, that depends on your generosity—say, a wagonload?” Isidore replied with a sly smile.

Vol thought this was too much and wanted to speak, but Eve’s glance stopped him short. He understood his mother’s resolve—nothing was off-limits for the good of the tribe.

Vol sighed heavily and slapped his thigh in frustration.

Sun Licheng’s voice rang out. “Fine, I agree. I will find you enough salt.”

Eve and Isidore exchanged satisfied smiles.

“I need to take the woman with me,” Sun Licheng added.

Isidore considered, then nodded. “Very well, but she cannot leave the camp for now. Once you bring us the salt, she’ll be wholly yours.”

…

Sun Licheng sighed deeply. He regretted agreeing so readily. Looking back, the task would be daunting—a wagonload of salt would be tons, requiring endless excavation, purification, and transport. The work was overwhelming.

“I was too impulsive,” he muttered, knocking himself on the head.

“Brother Sun Licheng?” Christina’s voice called from nearby.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, concerned by his frustration.

He shared his difficulties with her. Christina was a good listener, though not yet a mature woman.

Frowning, Christina was dismayed—she didn’t support rescuing the slave girl. Even if the girl posed no threat to her place in Sun Licheng’s heart, the price—a wagonload of salt—was far too high. Isidore was being outrageously greedy.

But Sun Licheng had agreed in front of everyone. There was no turning back.

Suddenly, Christina’s eyes lit up as she exclaimed, “I remember, I remember! There’s a salt mine nearby!”