Volume Two: The Bandits Here Chapter Ninety-Four: Tidying Up

Page (1/3)

“Is Ma Hui the kind of person Chen Ziliang is?” Lin Changtian said, pointing to the man next to him on his right who was cracking melon seeds. While teasing, he didn’t forget to slip some from his hand as well.

Chen Ziliang wore an expression of calm, tinged with a hint of reproach: “Changtian, I know I’m a rare talent in this world, but Ma Hui is still a local tyrant. Show him some respect; don’t always flaunt my excellence. One should be modest.”

The generals of Sishan fell silent...

“Ma Hui led troops to my Weinan Mountain Pass. If it were mere provocation, why send a bunch of lackeys to die? Sitting in that position isn’t due to luck or foolishness. Clearly, someone is pulling strings behind the scenes. This scoundrel, unable to keep others’ mouths shut, has brought calamity to Sishan to use Kuisheng’s blade to silence those scoundrels quietly.”

Lin Changtian stroked his garment’s hem and pointed outside the door: “Perhaps it’s karma from killing Liang Ji in Anma City. The noble families who can’t afford to offend Marshal Ma have spread this evil fire to Sishan, thinking that by instigating a few words and casually sending troops, they can handle us? Such naïveté means disaster is not far off.”

“So Marshal Lin means to turn this spearhead against the nobility?” Qi Yong pressed his long sword at his waist, licking his lips. “I have an idea. The merchants traveling through Weinan Mountain’s territory—once we find out which family has a grudge against Ma Hui and is his lackey, we can send a cavalry disguised as bandits to raid those noisy noble families a few times. Each time, only one would be left to return with news. Surely Ma Hui will understand the meaning behind this. While he stalls on his side, we assist here. It’s a win-win.”

“Hmm, is that so?” Lin Changtian frowned, hesitating for a long moment before saying, “Sishan is after all a branch of the border army’s legacy. Doing such things… it troubles my conscience.”

“I heard the profits from these merchants are quite substantial,” Qi Yong probed, wiping away the righteousness from the Sishan marshal’s eyes.

Lin Changtian sniffed as if smelling the stench of wealth. “What does Ma Hui’s bandit business have to do with Sishan? Weinan Pass is the main thoroughfare connecting north and south, linking east and west. Having a few more gangs of bandits is normal. Even someone as vile as Ma Hui has been whitewashed from a mere outlaw to one of the Northern Domain’s three heroes. So why not allow the bandits to have slightly better equipment? Being on the road, robbery is dangerous. Encountering organized attacks is only natural. And if a thousand-strong cavalry charge happens by accident, that’s also normal. We in Sishan condemn banditry, but enemies are elusive and powerful, leaving us helpless…”

“But what about the sudden appearance of wealth? How do we explain that?”

“What nonsense? Mysterious heroes robbing the rich to help the poor.” Lin Changtian glared at Qi Yong, signaling him to handle the matter.

Qi Yong shrugged and muttered as he lifted the tent curtain.

Sishan’s break from poverty likely began when you became that hero...

In Anma City, some oddities abounded. Those who should laugh held their tongues; those who shouldn’t, wore smiles of joy.

“I’ve received the letter from Sishan. The words are sincere, the writing excellent. They always speak from the heart. So, gentlemen, it seems your troubles must be solved yourselves.” Ma Hui spread his hands, studying the ink on the letter while feigning helplessness to the grim-faced heads of various families.

Du Zhaolin stood nearby, suppressing a smile. The excuse their marshal gave was too weak—he had never heard that one could glean meaning from handwriting’s quality.

“Marshal, are you deliberately stalling us? If Sishan can’t handle it, why not send a cavalry of our own?”

Among those standing below, a man dressed in an embroidered spring robe spoke with a smile.

His clothes were gaudy and flamboyant. The green grass embroidery was accented by a large red peony, covered with gold threads. Such an ostentatious taste reminded one of... Yang Wuliu from Ruzhou City.

The speaker was Zhao Zileng, a notable unknown to the great.

Ma Hui glanced at him and laughed along with Du Zhaolin.

Page (2/3)

Tsk, every year when it’s time to play tricks, they like to send out this insignificant shrimp first to test our methods.

Untested and unkillable, it’s so boring.

Zhao Zileng’s smile grew wider, seemingly unperturbed by Ma Hui’s indifference.

“Why didn’t we send troops? Didn’t our marshal deploy forces recently? But that careless dog had to provoke Sishan’s Kuisheng, resulting in the entire army’s destruction at a single meeting. Who can be blamed? If he weren’t Yu Lao’s nephew, I’d dig up his corpse to feed the dogs!”

Ma Hui pointed at Zhao Zileng, shouting, but an old man cowering in the corner went limp with fear.

“You all understand reason. Adding worries to the sovereign is not the deed of loyal ministers.” Ma Hui toyed with his long sword, teasing the crowd, unmoved by their anger.

Zhao Zileng bowed and stepped aside.

He wasn’t angry but feigned helplessness to deceive his comrades.

“A mere bandit, a brute, dares to claim to be the lord!” said Liang Li, uncle to Liang Ji and elder brother to Liang Qi.

Ma Hui overturned the table in response, and Du Zhaolin loudly rebuked: “If not for the marshal’s grace, your cousin’s recklessness would have cost him dozens of heads.”

“The Liang clan fears not death and scorns your bandit’s mercy! My cousin’s line is extinct. What? Should the marshal’s kindness be wasted on me?” Liang Li’s eyes locked on Ma Hui’s blade. He stepped forward, pressing the steel to his face, deliberately seeking death.

Du Zhaolin drew his sword. Soldiers poured in from outside, weapons raised against the officials, the atmosphere grim and tense.

Liang Su swept his gaze around, lingering on Zhao Zileng, nodded slightly, then pressed a soldier’s spear tip hard into himself, letting the blade draw blood without a sound.

Ma Hui looked at the Liang clan coldly, then glanced at the cowering Yu elder in the corner before departing.

Zhao Zileng pushed through the crowd, ignoring the blood, and sobbed over Liang Su.

Only their covered heads exchanged many furtive looks with Du Zhaolin, each hiding their thoughts.

...

“Next time, if there’s such a good opportunity, I’ll go myself,” Lin Changtian said, embracing Qi Yong tenderly, his gaze softening.

Qi Yong hastily pushed away the guilty hand, frowning: “Marshal, I’m supposed to follow you, but my backside is too rough. Why don’t you find Lv Liang? His place is comfortable! White and tender...”

“How do you know his backside is white and tender?” Lin Changtian squinted, intrigued as if discovering something extraordinary.

The man twitched his eyes and replied sullenly: “We’re comrades under the same roof. It’s normal for men to be exposed. What’s with the ambiguity? So tacky!”

“But I heard Lv Liang doesn’t like shoulder-to-shoulder closeness, except with you… without restraint.” Lin Changtian mentioned casually, humming a tune as he left, leaving the man stunned.

Rumors are baseless, threats unscary; nothing frightens the men of Sishan. But this matter... is true.

Inside Sishan’s university hall, Liu Qingshan scolded Lin Peiyou, while Liu Shiyong tried to intervene but soon gave up, sitting aside to watch the drama.

“You look delicate, young man, yet you’re so foolish! What can your lips and teeth judge? I’ve tasted more tea than the water you’ve drunk. You’re just a greenhorn, knowing nothing!”

Lin Peiyou stiffened his neck, resentful: “You should drink more or else it’ll get cold when people leave!”

“What are these two arguing about?” Lin Changtian blinked, puzzled over what a senior and a youth could dispute.

Liu Shiyong shrugged helplessly. He had meant to flatter Lin Peiyou but got drawn into the mess. “Marshal, you’re here? This matter… big or small, really nothing to fret over. Have you seen that ‘Si Shi’?”

“I know a bit. It has a common name in the Central Lands—‘tofu pudding,’ right?” Lin Changtian shook his head, clearly not understanding the fuss.

Liu Shiyong pointed at Liu Qingshan then touched Lin Peiyou, saying, “You’re not wrong. The young lord just said a word, and Lord Liu scolded him for half a day without letting up. Good thing you came.”

“What did Lin Peiyou do to make Elder Liu abandon his composure and argue? Though, he’s not exactly composed…” Lin Changtian yawned, unimpressed.

“It’s nothing. The young lord added a bit of salt to the Si Shi, saying it tastes better that way, and Elder Liu blew up. They’ve been debating sweet versus salty ever since, no one yielding. What’s the big deal? Sweet or salty goes down the throat anyway. In my opinion…” Liu Shiyong’s voice trailed off, and he suddenly went silent, his expression turning serious as he watched Lin Changtian’s face shift from gloomy to a sly smile.

The Sishan lord stood, shook his shoulders, and shouted to the sky: “Lin Peiyou, step back. I’ll debate this old scoundrel. How can tofu pudding be sweet? Hey, Liu Qingshan, today I’ll crush your arrogance, or I’ll change my surname!”

...

“Elder Liu, do you have room at home? I want to be reborn as your grandson, no other reason, just pure admiration.” Lin Changtian laughed, covering his face. After a friendly chat, these two fully embodied Sishan’s fine tradition, showing great respect for the elder. As for salty or sweet... wait, people actually eat salty tofu pudding?

Liu Qingshan glanced at Lin Changtian, kicked him aside, and scolded with a smile: “Who wants a scoundrel like you as their grandson? Usually, I’m gentle and refined, seldom losing my temper or resorting to brutish behavior. Next time, let me talk some sense instead, alright?”

Lin Peiyou looked outside, rubbed his eyes, and nodded vigorously. This was the first lesson he had learned in Sishan.