I Only Choked on Noodles, Why Am I Here?! [BL]

Chapter 40 – A Strange Presence

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Han Yan nodded in understanding, then rose without delay. Moving with ease, he gathered the items he intended to bring to the market, carefully placing the wild game and freshly picked fruit into the bamboo basket.

His movements were methodical and precise, each bundle secured firmly within, each knot tightened to withstand the long road ahead.

He paused to inspect the contents once more, adjusting the arrangement to ensure nothing would shift or spill during the journey. Only after satisfying himself did he straighten.

Lin Xin, and Dong Hai stood nearby, watching in quiet composure, their hands ready to lend assistance at a single word.

Once everything was prepared, Han Yan slung the basket over his shoulder. "I am ready."

Before departing, Han Yan paused in the doorway, his gaze resting on Lin Xin and Dong Hai. In a calm yet caring voice, he said

"Xin’er, take care of one another. Dong Hai, see that you lock the gate after Brother Liu leaves." His voice was calm, yet carried a gentle reminder.

Liu De stepped forward, hesitation touching his voice. "I... I must leave at once. My son is still unwell, and I cannot delay." then gave a small, nod toward Wei Jun. "Take care of yourself I will wait for your return."

Wei Jun smiled faintly, reaching out to gently squeeze his hand for a brief moment. "Go" he said softly. "Look after him. I will be fine. Take care of yourself as well."

His tone carried quiet warmth reassurance. Then he released Liu De’s hand, stepping back.

With a soft smile, Liu De turned and departed down the path.

Wei Jun watched Liu De until his figure disappeared among the trees, then turned back toward the others. He looked at Han Yan before leading the way. "Let’s go" he said. Han Yan nodded as he followed behind.

The village path stretched out before them, lined with simple houses and quiet morning activity. A few villagers were already awake, tending to small chores or greeting one another in low voices.

The air was cool and fresh, carrying the faint scent of earth and dew. As they walked, Wei Jun spoke.

"The market should be very lively today. Many people will be buying a lot of supplies."

Han Yan adjusted the basket on his shoulder. "That is good. We should be able to sell what we caught."

Wei Jun glanced at him. "With the game we brought, I doubt we would have any trouble selling. People always look for fresh meat."

Han Yan smiled. "I hope so."

They continued along the path, the village gradually giving way to open stretches of land. In the distance, the road toward town became visible a well-trodden route that many villagers used.

Though the journey was simple, there was a sense of purpose in their steps, as if the day ahead held quiet opportunities.

Not long after, while they were still upon the outskirts of the village, they came upon a horse-drawn carriage waiting quietly by the roadside.

It was a humble thing far from the refined carriages used by merchants or officials. The wooden frame bore signs of long use, its edges smoothed by time and weather.

The horse hitched before it was thin but steady, its breath slow and even beneath the pale morning light.

Several passengers were already seated within.

An elderly woman clutched a basket of freshly picked vegetables to her chest, her lips moving faintly as though counting or muttering to herself.

A young man sat near the edge with a bundle of firewood tied neatly with rope, his posture straight but weary. At the far end, a middle-aged vendor leaned back against the wooden frame, his eyes half-closed in light sleep.

Among the passengers, an old man sat quietly in the corner.

His back was slightly hunched, his figure thin and unassuming. A small bundle wrapped in faded cloth rested upon his lap, his hands loosely folded over it. His eyes appeared half-closed, as though dozing, yet there was a subtle sharpness beneath that stillness, as if he missed nothing at all.

The driver, a middle-aged man with a worn expression, glanced at Wei Jun and Han Yan before calling out lazily, "Heading toward the town road? Two copper coins per person."

Wei Jun paused, then gave a small nod. "We will take it."

Han Yan did not hesitate. He reached into the inner fold of his sleeve and took out two copper coins. Wei Jun did the same.

Together, they stepped forward and placed the coins into the driver’s waiting hand four copper coins in total.

The driver weighed them briefly before tucking them away. "Get on, then."

They climbed aboard.

The wooden step creaked faintly beneath their weight as they entered and took their seats. The space was narrow, the benches hard and unpolished. A faint scent of dust, aged wood, and the earthy smell of the horse lingered in the air.

Han Yan’s gaze swept over the passengers, lingering only briefly before settling if just for a fleeting instant on the old man in the corner. Something about him felt... off.

He could not say why, yet the feeling remained it was difficult to ignore.

But before he could dwell on it with a sharp flick of the reins, the driver urged the horse forward.

The carriage lurched forward.

Han Yan was caught off guard, his body swaying as he instinctively reached for balance. The wheels began to rattle against the uneven village road, each bump sending small but persistent jolts through the wooden frame.

At first, he endured it in silence.

But as the carriage picked up speed, the roughness of the road became impossible to ignore. The path was riddled with grooves and scattered stones, dipping without warning. Each jolt seemed to travel straight through his body.

Han Yan’s expression gradually stiffened.

A faint pallor crept onto his face, his brows drawing together ever so slightly. He lowered his gaze, one hand gripping the edge of the bench more tightly.

Outside, the scenery slowly shifted.

The familiar simplicity of the village gave way to wider roads and increasing movement. More travelers appeared along the path some on foot, others with carts or livestock. In the distance, the outline of the town began to emerge, and with it, the growing hum of life.

Soon, the carriage rolled past the outer edge of the town.

Shops and stalls came into view, lining the streets in uneven rows. Vendors called out their goods, children darted through the crowds, and the air grew thick with the mingled scents of food, herbs, and dust.

Bright fabrics fluttered in the breeze, lanterns swayed gently overhead, and sunlight reflected off polished trinkets in dazzling flashes.

Han Yan could not help but look.

Even through his discomfort, his eyes flickered with quiet amazement.

It was lively... far more lively than the village.

Yet the constant rocking of the carriage made it difficult to appreciate for long. His stomach churned uneasily.

He swallowed, pressing his lips together as he tried to steady his breathing. The uneven rhythm only made it worse.

This... is nothing like the modern world.

The thought surfaced quietly in Han Yan’s mind, carrying a faint trace of disbelief.

He had long been accustomed to smooth roads and steady motion vehicles that glided forward with barely a tremor. Even the longest journeys had never once left his body feeling this unsettled.

But here...

Each jolt of the carriage felt raw and unfiltered, every uneven stone beneath the wheels making itself known. There was no comfort, no refinement only the unpolished roughness of the road.

So this is how people travel here...

Han Yan lowered his gaze, his grip on the bench tightening as another violent jolt passed through the carriage.

A sour feeling rose in his throat.

For a brief moment, he truly felt as though he might vomit.

His lips pressed into a thin line, his breathing turning shallow as he forced the sensation down with visible effort, unwilling to embarrass himself in front of so many people.

The difference was... far too clear.

"...Are you unwell?" Wei Jun’s voice came softly beside him.

Han Yan hesitated before replying in a low voice, "It is nothing... only that this carriage... is somewhat difficult to endure."

Wei Jun glanced at him, understanding flickering in his eyes, along with a trace of worry.

"The road into town has always been like this," he said lightly. "You will grow used to it after a few more rides."

Han Yan gave a faint nod, though his grip on the bench did not loosen.

Across from them, the carriage was silent. Nobody spoke, and even the faintest sound seemed swallowed by the soft creaking of the wooden frame.

The old man remained still, as though asleep, his presence quiet yet strangely difficult to ignore.

The carriage rattled onward, swaying and creaking as it carried them deeper into the bustling heart of the town, the noise of life growing ever louder with each passing moment.

The carriage slowed as it approached the town gate, the wooden wheels rattling softly against the cobblestones. Han Yan’s gaze, sharp and discerning, swept across the scene before him.

The town was more beautiful than he had imagined rows of timbered houses with curved, tiled roofs rose neatly along the streets, their eaves adorned with delicate carvings that caught the sunlight.

Lanterns swayed gently in the breeze, casting warm reflections on the stone-paved roads, while the soft scent of fresh bread and simmering herbs mingled with the faint aroma of blooming flowers from carefully tended courtyard gardens.

Merchants called out to passersby, carefully arranging their wares, while townsfolk moved with quiet purpose, walking briskly but without any sense of rush or disorder.

Even the everyday sounds the tapping of footsteps on stone, the soft groan of carts over the cobbles, the occasional burst of children’s laughter blended together in a quiet rhythm, like the town itself was breathing, calm and alive all at once.

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