The tokens from the Imperial Capital were exquisitely crafted—a quality unmatched elsewhere.

Jiang Huoer fiddled with the Imperial Guard token in his hand. He had a thought: it’d be awesome to have one like this to boost his prestige.

When Jiang Huoer daydreamed—especially about wonderful things—a silly grin would spread across his face, and drool would drip heavily.

The scribe had once calculated his young master drooled enough to fill three large bowls. He’d wanted to drool more, but the scribe found it too disgusting and snapped Jiang Huoer out of his daydream.

Seeing how much his young master cherished the token, Shangfeng guessed he was fantasizing about how glorious it’d be to have one himself.

Shangfeng thought if his young master entered the Imperial Capital, he’d surely get a token from the Divine Arsenal Workshop. That’d be cool too.

Two days had passed since they rescued this man. In that time, the intelligible words had evolved from "Taihang deception" to "Northern Taihang Deception."

Over two days, the information had only added two characters: "northern."

The northern region of the Taihang Mountains was vast. Who knew which "north" this man meant?

He hadn’t spoken today yet.

So Jiang Huoer and Shangfeng waited, eager to hear what words he’d utter.

"I didn’t expect young master to care so much about this man," Shangfeng chuckled. "I thought you’d only be interested in saltpeter, sulfur, cannons—not helping others."

Jiang Huoer heard Shangfeng’s words. He stopped fantasizing about the token. "Saving people isn’t a hobby. It’s a duty."

"Duty?" Shangfeng didn’t understand.

"It’s what we should do." Jiang Huoer added branches to the fire, making it blaze. "Of course, cannon fire is still my life’s top priority. But saving people? If I can help on the way, why not? Besides, I think we can squeeze some benefits from this guy."

A fourth-rank commander—such a huge favor. Hard to repay. Without Jiang Huoer, this man would’ve died right there.

"Young master, I think what he’s saying concerns the imperial court. What do you think?" Shangfeng wiped sweat from Xiao Hao’s forehead.

"Obviously, it’s court-related. What else could it be?" Jiang Huoer snickered. "I think it’ll be dangerous."

"If he gives concrete info, young master, will we still do this dangerous thing?" Shangfeng asked. Big decisions were Jiang Huoer’s call—he was his scribe, after all.

"Of course we will." Jiang Huoer didn’t hesitate. "It’s as simple as whether I’d rest after firing cannons till exhaustion."

"Young master, consider your parents’ worries."

"I have. But when you see something, you can’t ignore it. Or your conscience will condemn you." Jiang Huoer patted his chest. "I think Shangfeng, you’d want me to do this too."

Shangfeng did want Jiang Huoer involved. It was like "Righteous Cannon Aid"—helping the oppressed. A virtuous deed. He hoped it might even propel his young master to the Imperial Capital, like Yi Xiuran and Duan Mengqi.

Shangfeng always thought for Jiang Huoer’s benefit. He was truly grateful.

He’d been picked up by Jiang Huoer and brought to the Jiang Mansion.

He remembered their first meeting.

That winter, at five years old, Shangfeng was chased by vicious dogs through a grove outside Spirit Martial Town.

Orphaned young, he’d been raised by a beggar granny. But she didn’t survive the harsh winter of Hongzhi 4th year. Only Shangfeng remained.

To eat, he often fought dogs for scraps. Sometimes, kind dogs shared leftovers. But vicious ones bit him.

Starving that day, he risked stealing from vicious dogs.

The result...

Exhausted, unable to run further, a figure appeared before him.

Shangfeng was five. Jiang Huoer was ten.

Jiang Huoer wasn’t there by chance. He was testing his Single Barrel Firearm.

The weather was poor for experiments, but his excited heart couldn’t wait.

By Spirit Stream, seeking a target, Jiang Huoer spotted Shangfeng and the three dogs chasing him.

Perfect target.

BANG! One shot. One dog fell. The firearm wasn’t meant to fire consecutively, but Jiang Huoer had modified it for rapid fire.

BANG! Second shot. Another dog dropped. The firing speed was as planned—he’d kill the third dog before it reached the boy.

But the third dog fled.

Wind and snow made aiming hard. A fleeing dog was too quick.

Jiang Huoer calmed his excitement. The test succeeded: rapid fire, reload speed—all perfect.

He wanted to look cool in front of the boy. He imagined being seen as a god.

But no "Wow!" came. He looked down—the boy had fainted.

Their meeting was legendary, like a hero saving a child.

Students in Spirit Martial Town had a motto for Jiang Huoer. Shangfeng loved this one most:

"Righteous Cannon Aid."

Shangfeng’s eyes fixed on the fire. In the flames, he saw their first meeting, remembered the granny, recalled happy days. Sometimes, speaking from the heart felt good.

"Mm! I hope young master gets involved!" he replied.