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The words “thick-skinned and black-hearted” were a perfect description of Fatty Bai.
Bai Guo then produced a small wooden bottle about ten centimeters tall. “This is for you too!”
The stopper was jammed in tightly. He Lingchuan gave it a gentle shake and heard tiny granules rattling inside. “What’s this?”
“Ah, this is fish paste!” Fatty Bai explained. “A specialty from the coast of the State of Song, refined over a slow fire from all kinds of seafood essences! Add one or two drops while cooking, and it’ll boost the flavor so much that the dish tastes like an entirely different meal. Go back and try it, you’ll definitely love it.”
Since it was hard to refuse, He Lingchuan accepted it. A glance around the shop showed that plenty of customers were buying fish paste too, but theirs all came in large wooden bottles.
So this profiteer had merely given me a sample.
* * *
The Hall of War.
The stone building was as bare as ever, without the slightest decoration.
He Lingchuan remembered that the last two times he had stood guard here, the lingering heat of late autumn had still been brutal, and the place had been swelteringly hot. The military officers were fine, as they had cultivation and were supposed to be impervious to heat and cold. But a half-baked spellcaster like Wen Daolun had sweated buckets.
Fortunately,...
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