Chapter 234: Strange Old Woman

He Lingchuan looked up and saw an old woman walking with an inward-pointing gait, gazing around.

She was thin and wizened, yet her belly protruded slightly, immediately reminding He Lingchuan of a dry tree stump by the riverbank.

"Are you the shopkeeper?" she asked. Her voice sounded much younger than her appearance suggested. He Lingchuan also noticed she had a full set of teeth, implying she might not be as old as she looked.

"Sort of," he said truthfully. "This shop has just been repossessed; it might be a while before it reopens."

"What are you going to sell?" The old woman touched and rummaged through things, showing no politeness whatsoever.

"I'm not sure yet." He had no energy to manage the shop in his dream, so he planned to let the officials handle its rental and collect rent quarterly. "And you are...?"

"I—I collect things," the old woman said. Her eyes scanned the piles of assorted items, moving up and down, not only clear but also remarkably sharp.

Somehow, He Lingchuan felt she resembled an otter on a dry riverbed. Such creatures also enjoyed residing within piles of debris they had personally accumulated. However, she was too thin, and her eyes, somewhat protruding, were bloodshot.

"Do you still want these?" the old woman asked dryly. "If not, can I just have them?"

"No, you can take them all."

The old woman immediately bowed to him. "Kind sir, kind sir, Heaven will surely bless you!"

This was overly polite.

He Lingchuan soon saw the old woman had somehow acquired a handcart, which she parked outside the shop entrance before entering to move items.

She first carried away an earthenware jar. This jar was covered in a thick layer of yellowish mud, hidden beneath two nested tables, which in turn were obscured by a screen. He Lingchuan hadn't noticed it at all when he initially inventoried the items, and he wondered how the old woman had found it.

He couldn't help but ask, "What's that jar for?"

"Pickling... pickling vegetables."

The jar wasn't particularly large; it could hold at most five to seven catties of wine. Every pickling jar He Lingchuan had seen was larger than this one.

"Shall I help you carry it?" he offered purely out of kindness.

The old woman clutched the jar even tighter, as if afraid he would try to take it. "No, no need!"

Then she carried away two incense burners, several inkstones, and a row of ceramic figurines.

These figurines were crudely made, and He Lingchuan always felt they were staring at him maliciously. The shop's previous owner likely felt the same, which was why they were thrown into the storeroom, out of sight, out of mind.

Yet the old woman liked them very much, cheerfully saying, "These are good; I'll take them back for my son to play with."

He Lingchuan really wanted to ask how old her son was to still be playing with such things, when suddenly there was a clang outside, and the handcart was knocked over.

The old woman gasped and hurried out.

Several items on the cart were knocked to the ground, and the jar rolled several times. He Lingchuan immediately saw a large patch of mud coating flake off the jar, revealing a grayish-white, yellowish base underneath. Jars of this color seemed uncommon in Panlong City.

The old woman was also distressed. She picked up the jar and turned it around twice to check for damage, letting out a sigh of relief when she found no further cracks.

Just then, someone else approached and greeted He Lingchuan.

"A'Luo?" He Lingchuan exclaimed in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm going to the pharmacy ahead to pick up medicine," A'Luo said, pointing back. "The order I placed a few days ago just arrived today. Is this your shop?"

"Yes, it is."

"You're only just tidying it up today; it seems you're not short on money." Every day the shop was rented out earlier meant one more day of collected rent.

As the two men talked, the old woman stood up.

Perhaps from squatting for too long, she swayed twice upon standing, almost falling over.

A'Luo instinctively helped her steady herself.

After steadying herself, the old woman grasped the handcart handle and pushed it outward.

"Madam, is this all you're taking?" Both men looked at the cart and saw there were only a few items in it.

"I can't carry much anyway," the old woman said, sounding practical. "Let others have the rest."

A'Luo's expression and gaze were a little strange. He asked the old woman, "Are you alright?"

"Yes," the old woman replied, pushing her cart to leave.

A'Luo suddenly pressed down on the handcart handle. "You're pregnant, aren't you?"

When this was said, He Lingchuan was thoroughly startled.

Pregnant? This old woman?

The old woman paused, then immediately said, "It's none of your business. Don't meddle!"

She seemed very angry and was clearly aware of her condition. A'Luo had no choice but to release the handle, letting her push the cart away. Her figure quickly disappeared around the street corner, without once looking back.

He Lingchuan scratched the back of his head. "What did you just say? She's pregnant?"

"Yes, I felt her pulse, though only for a moment."

"Could it be..." he almost said, 'a mistake?' But seeing A'Luo's gaze, He Lingchuan immediately changed his question: "How many months along?"

He had noticed the old woman's slightly protruding belly earlier, but many elderly people had similar physiques, so he hadn't given it much thought. Who knew it would be something so bizarre?

"Roughly four or five months."

The listeners all gasped; it certainly didn't show.

A'Luo shook his head. "All I know is that her pulse was steady but agitated. The fetuses in her womb were so active there was even a risk of miscarriage, but thankfully they are strong."

"'Fetuses'?" He Lingchuan was shocked. "She's carrying several?"

"At least two," A'Luo said. "Do you think I'm a deity, able to tell exactly how many just by touching?"

Suddenly, someone nearby interjected, "Are you sure? Sister Ji is pregnant?"

The two men turned their heads and saw the owners of the neighboring fur shop standing at their doorway, looking incredulous.

"Sure about what?" A'Luo, short-tempered and particularly annoyed by anyone questioning his medical skills, retorted, "Believe it or not, I don't care."

The shop owner, however, was amiable and quickly apologized: "Officer, don't be angry. We just can't imagine it; this matter is simply too strange."

His wife was much more direct: "Is Sister Ji involved with someone outside? It just goes to show, you never truly know a person's heart."

He Lingchuan brushed away the debris on the steps. "What's wrong with an old tree sprouting new leaves?"

The shop owner's wife said bluntly, "She's not that old, only four years my senior, but she's been a widow for many years. After losing her sons, she's been a bit deranged all day, so it's unbelievable she'd find another man."

She appeared to be under forty, which would make Sister Ji just over forty, much younger than her outward appearance suggested.

"Lost her sons?" He Lingchuan recalled the row of ceramic figurines Sister Ji had taken. "How many children did she have?"

"Two sons, both died on the battlefield."

A'Luo lowered his gaze, and He Lingchuan sighed silently.

This was the fate of all good young men in Panlong City, though no one knew it before it arrived, except for He Lingchuan.

The pain of losing children, and having to endure it twice, no wonder the old woman was a bit deranged and spoke of taking the ceramic dolls back for her son to play with.

As for an "old tree sprouting new leaves," while it was somewhat strange, others had no right to pry.

The shop owner said solemnly, "She used to be my neighbor. At midnight, we would often hear her wailing loudly. If it were just for ten days or half a month, people would sympathize and tolerate it, but who could stand half a year of such howling? She also became increasingly confused and even tried to take other people's children. Eventually, the neighbors had no choice but to drive her away. I heard she moved to the outskirts."

A'Luo suddenly asked, "How long has it been since you last saw her?"

"Uh..." The shop owner and his wife exchanged glances. "Roughly three years."

She aged so much in three years?

With their conversation finished, the storefront returned to quiet. The neighboring shop owners retreated inside, and A'Luo also said to He Lingchuan, "I'm going to be on duty at the Martial Arts Hall today. Are you coming?"

"Sure, take me there to have a look around." He Lingchuan locked the shop with a backhand motion, putting the recent minor incident out of his mind.

Panlong City had three martial arts training grounds. The Martial Arts Hall, located near the West Gate, was the largest and usually had the most people.

This was a place for warriors to hone their skills—to put it nicely, a place to make friends through martial arts; to put it realistically, a place where only one could be superior.

He Lingchuan had been diligently training for several months, day and night without ceasing. He had put in three or four times the effort of an average person, and naturally, he wanted to test his recent progress at the martial arts ground.

The Martial Arts Hall was formerly a horse track, located in the suburbs at the time. As Panlong City expanded outwards, it soon encompassed the area. Thus, this land was inherently large and open, but Panlong City built high walls around it, with only one-fifth of the grounds exposed to public view.

The sign for the Martial Arts Hall was very large, with bold, flowing characters. A smaller inscription beside it indicated Zhong Shengguang as the calligrapher. It turned out Commander Zhong himself had penned the inscription.

However, He Lingchuan, being less experienced, was seeing a white-on-black sign for the first time. Ah, how solemn!

A'Luo led him inside. The guards checked their identification tokens before allowing them to pass. This place was not open to the public; only registered soldiers of Panlong City were permitted entry.

Upon entering, He Lingchuan realized even more how vast the place was. He knew that the Martial Arts Hall was actually divided into northern and southern courts by the central Dù Building. The South Court, closer to the main gate, was for Panlong City soldiers and patrols, comprising five fields; the North Court was exclusively for the Great Wind Army. Those in the South Court could only gaze northward through the fence, feeling a silent envy.

The Dù Building was a two-story structure separating the two courts, specifically providing logistical support for martial artists. Here, they could rest, sharpen their weapons, change equipment, and there was also a dedicated physician on duty for emergencies.

A'Luo was here to take over as the on-duty physician; he needed money.

Now there were dozens of people in the South Court. The edges of the training ground were available for solo practice, but the center of the field had to be cleared for sparring matches. He Lingchuan saw six people engaged in one-on-one combat, their wooden swords and sabers smeared with red powder on the blades.

Those struck would have a red mark on their bodies. If neither side was substantially knocked down by the end of the fight, the match's winner would be determined by the number and location of red marks on each person.

He Lingchuan's gaze shifted again, and to his surprise, he spotted another familiar face: the Thin Man.

This fellow was waving a dozen slips of paper in his hand, standing by a match, shouting himself hoarse.

Yet he wasn't conspicuous at all, because the shouts of the onlookers were overwhelming!

With a bang, a contestant in the arena was knocked unconscious by a shield.

Immediately, a chorus of boos erupted from the sidelines. Some people left dejectedly, while others clamored for money from the Thin Man: "I won, I won! Give me my money now!"

This money could absolutely not be owed. The Thin Man turned his back, batting away hands reaching from behind left and right, while quickly using a charcoal stick to mark off the slips of paper. "Don't rush, don't rush, one at a time!"