“Woman’s fragrance? Where?”
Steve had been dozing in the carriage, but upon hearing Hari's words, he instantly perked up, eagerly lifting the curtain and scanning around.
Du Cheng looked curiously as well. He’d heard that Antwerp, built along the coast, was half port and half fortress-like city walls, a renowned city. They were now approaching its main gate.
In front of the ten-meter-tall dark-blue city gates, the drawbridge across the moat was lowered, with sparse pedestrians—mostly merchants, priests, laborers, and soldiers—but no women, as Hari had mentioned.
Steve withdrew his head, disappointed. "Xuebi, if you're lying, I'll gift you to the Orcs as a male companion!" As he spoke, he cast a sideways glance at Aliza.
Aliza sat innocently, chewing beef jerky from a basket. Hearing Steve, he blinked in confusion, "What's a male companion? Is it tasty or fun? That fatty probably isn’t tasty, but might be fun!”
“Master Steve, I wouldn't dare deceive you! You must trust your humble servant!” Terrified by Aliza’s words, Hari curled up pitifully in a corner, whining, "You know, we Xuebi are good for nothing except our keen noses, our only pride—I would never use it to deceive you!”
"Forget it, brother!" Du Cheng noticed nothing unusual, irritatedly saying, "It's just one woman. Don't fret, there are plenty of beauties in the city waiting to welcome you!"
“No! Stop the carriage!” Steve waved solemnly, "Brother, you don't understand. From my vast experience, a woman with a naturally appealing scent is always an exquisite virgin beauty. Such an opportunity can't be missed! Hari, describe the scent and its exact location clearly. Otherwise, you'll become Aliza's male companion!”
Hari sniffed repeatedly. "Master Steve, your experience is unparalleled. Your servant admires you greatly. Neither the salty sea breeze, the stench of merchants’ goods, nor soldiers’ sweat can hide this virgin fragrance—it smells faintly like violets, elegant and enchanting yet not vulgar!”
Steve's eyes shone eagerly. "Keep sniffing! Find that beauty's precise location! Succeed, and I'll free you. Otherwise..." He glanced at Aliza, who was still chewing.
"Alright, alright!"
Hari joyfully poked his head outside, sniffing diligently.
Du Cheng leaned back, bored, sharing beef jerky with Aliza.
Women…
Damn it…
Grape…
I hate you!
Moments later, Hari, flushed and breathless from intense sniffing, withdrew his head, eyes closed. "The fragrance is masked by a peculiar smell—not blood, nor spoiled goods. Master, your humble servant has truly done his best."
“Try harder!” Steve pleaded hopefully.
“I can only confirm she's moving slowly toward the gate, about two hundred meters away!”
Such accuracy from smell alone? Even a dog couldn't do better!
Curiosity piqued again, Du Cheng lifted the curtain. The wide road to the gate and short distance narrowed possibilities significantly. Among the few people—a mercenary, merchants with carts, and a priest with a large sack—stood out.
A priest carrying a sack? Could the priest be...? But Du Cheng quickly dismissed the thought. Despite the priest's slight build, the difference between men and women was unmistakable. But a priest carrying goods was rare—priests usually made slaves do menial tasks.
Something felt wrong.
Looking closely, Du Cheng saw the priest struggling with a bulky, inflated sack. Steve noticed too, grabbing Du Cheng's hand. Both jumped from the carriage. "Francis, follow me. Something's suspicious."
As they reached the priest at the drawbridge, Du Cheng hurriedly approached, patting the priest’s shoulder while swiftly touching the sack. Soft and springy—clearly, a woman inside, padded with cotton to disguise the shape, risking suffocation!
The priest turned, revealing himself as an old man, in his sixties or seventies, with short white hair, sharp triangular eyes, thin lips, and an arrogant goatee—clearly trouble from his youth.
“Oh, young man, how can I help you?” Seeing Du Cheng’s friendly face, the old man suppressed his annoyance, forcing a bright smile.
“Nothing serious, just curious what's in your sack, old sir?”
Steve nodded subtly to Du Cheng, indicating he'd sensed no strength from the old man—definitely not a powerful fighter.
The old charlatan smiled slightly, “Just some cotton. I'm too old for heavy lifting. Sorry, I must go.” He turned to the checkpoint soldiers.
“Stop!” Steve snatched the sack, instantly discerning from experience that it contained a slender girl. "Whose young master are you, so disrespectful?" Furious, the old charlatan reached to reclaim the sack. "Return it, or else—"
"Or else what? You old bastard, daring to kidnap women!"
Du Cheng shouted loudly at the gate, quickly drawing a crowd.
The old man's expression shifted angrily. "Nonsense! I've lived honorably! How dare you accuse me of such filth?”
"Still denying it? Everyone, look! Is this cotton?" Du Cheng shouted, attracting more onlookers, inwardly pleased at performing this "good deed," perhaps earning fame as a moral hero in Antwerp.
The growing crowd surrounded them. Du Cheng pointed accusingly at the old man, loudly condemning, "Everyone, see this fraud posing as a priest, abducting women in broad daylight—"
“You rascal!”
Shaking with rage, the old charlatan grabbed Du Cheng’s hand, clearly weak. His shabby clothes hinted no powerful background—perfect for Du Cheng's "good deed."
"Thinking of violence? Still denying?” Du Cheng shook off the man's hand, motioned Steve to lower the sack, gripping its opening tightly. He addressed the crowd dramatically, “Today, I'll expose your shamelessness before everyone here!”
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