Chapter Thirteen: Let's Have a Fight! (Happy May Day!)

As the head of a group—regardless of its kind—the most crucial quality is to remain calm.

At present, the uproar over the bridal abduction had yet to subside; in fact, it was still at its peak. Even if this so-called fat convoy was a genuine opportunity, rather than a bait laid by certain schemers, Li Yun would not spare it a glance. He understood all too well what he needed to do right now.

He had to integrate himself into this world as swiftly as possible and become stronger before the next crisis arrived. Anything outside of that, he would not concern himself with.

After turning down Zhou Liang’s suggestion, Li Yun spent each day either poring over books in the stockade or practicing martial arts. In just a few days, he had gradually adapted to his “new” body—or rather, to the immense strength it contained.

This nameless bandit chief possessed extraordinary talent and was astonishingly strong. Since childhood, he had also been trained in the art of breath control. Though this technique was not as mystical as those described in martial arts novels—where practitioners soared over rooftops like immortals—it did allow his breathing to become long and steady, granting him far greater stamina than an ordinary man. By now, Li Yun need not even consciously regulate his breath; it came to him naturally, a mark of internal martial arts. Clearly, the original owner of the body had practiced for many years; the technique had become second nature, an inseparable part of his being.

In his own courtyard, the bandit chief swung his saber. With a single stroke, he decapitated the straw man he had constructed from wood and rice straw; as the head fell to the ground, Li Yun’s gaze shifted to the blade in his hand.

It was not some legendary weapon, merely an ordinary saber, marred with notches.

“Not bad…” he mused inwardly, making a mental comparison. “I’ve recovered about seventy or eighty percent of that Li Yun’s capability.”

He had never trained in martial arts before, and had only ever fought once. To have reached this level in just ten days was already remarkable. He was so diligent because, in this world, martial prowess was of paramount importance—it was, in fact, the very foundation of his survival.

Watching the straw head roll away, the chief grinned widely. “Primitive, perhaps, but there’s a kind of savage beauty to it. Damn, that felt good.”

The skeleton of the straw man was made from wood as thick as a rolling pin; to behead it with one stroke meant that, if he faced an ordinary enemy, he could do the same to a human adversary.

In that instant, the bandit chief felt a strange sensation—a fleeting sense that he held command over the lives of others. It was an odd feeling, as if it came from deep within his blood.

Just as Li Yun was lost in thought, someone came running from a distance. Approaching, the newcomer called out, “Second Brother! Second Brother!”

Li Yun looked up—it was Old Ninth, Liu Bo, returning. He sheathed the saber and, smiling, asked, “When did you get back?”

“Just got up the mountain,” Liu Bo replied, patting his chest. “The matter you entrusted to me is done. The letter has been delivered to the Qingyang County office. You wouldn’t believe it, Second Brother—there were guards at the county gate checking travel permits and identification. Luckily, I was quick-witted and snuck in behind a merchant caravan.”

Li Yun patted his shoulder, grinning. “Well done. When this is all over, I’ll credit you with a great merit.”

Liu Bo blushed. “Second Brother, I don’t want credit. Now that you’ve taken a wife, when you have time, help your little brother find a wife to bring up the mountain too… How about it?”

The chief laughed aloud. “It’ll be hard to snatch any more brides in the short term. When I go down the mountain in a while, I’ll keep an eye out for you.”

“Great!” Liu Bo beamed. “Thank you, Second Brother!”

He paused, then added, “By the way, Second Brother, when I was coming up just now, I saw some strangers heading up the mountain. But Third Uncle was leading them, so I didn’t ask.”

Li Yun frowned slightly. “I understand. Go rest for now; I’ll go have a look shortly.”

Liu Bo agreed and ran off cheerfully.

Li Yun moved the straw man to a corner, then walked beneath the window of the master bedroom and said, “Miss Xue, the letter has been delivered. Your father now knows you’re safe—you can rest easy.”

Soon, the window cracked open and a small head peeked out. After ten days together, she no longer feared Li Yun as she once had.

“Thank you,” she said.

Li Yun waved it off with a carefree smile. “This whole affair started because of me. I’ll see it through—no need to thank me. I’m heading out for a bit. Stay here and don’t wander off.”

Xue Yun’er acknowledged shyly, “I… I’d like to bathe again tonight.”

“Alright,” the chief replied as he turned to go. “I’ll bring back some firewood by dusk.”

…

Main hall of Cangshan Stockade.

Seated at the head of the hall, the chief gazed at the four strangers before him—two in their thirties or forties, and two much younger, perhaps in their late teens or early twenties. All bore injuries; in spite of their pain, they bowed and saluted when they saw Li Yun. “Second Master.”

Li Yun had inherited his father’s moniker, “Li the Pockmarked.” Among the older generation of bandits, he would be called “Little Pockmarked.” His peers would simply call him “Pockmarked.” For these men to address him as “Second Master” was unusual; he was young and his standing in the underworld was not yet so high. Clearly, these men had come seeking aid.

With interest, the chief glanced at the four, then turned to Zhou Liang and smiled. “Brothers from Erlong Stockade?”

Though Li Yun smiled, Zhou Liang—Third Uncle Zhou—felt a chill under his gaze and hurriedly replied, “Yes, Chief. This is Erlong Stockade’s second-in-command, Peng Hai, known as the Dragon Crossing the Mountain.”

He hesitated, then added, “The chiefs of Erlong Stockade—you’ve met them before…”

“I hit my head recently, all for the sake of getting married,” Li Yun said blandly. “A lot of things are a blur.”

Zhou Liang tried to say more, but Li Yun cut him off.

“Chief Peng.”

Peng Hai, his face battered, waved his hands hastily. “I don’t deserve that title.”

Li Yun’s smile was inscrutable. “By the look of you, Chief Peng, you’ve suffered a setback?”

“Yes,” Peng Hai replied, face flushed with humiliation and rage. “Second Master, our Erlong Stockade has taken a severe blow this time. We had only twenty-some brothers to begin with. In one go, more than half were killed or wounded—and even our chief…”

“All fell at the hands of those men.”

“What convoy was it?” Li Yun asked coolly. “So formidable?”

“I think… it was the Weiyuan Escort Agency,” Peng Hai sighed. “They had only a dozen men, but somehow got their hands on crossbows. We were caught off guard—four or five of our brothers fell at once, and the rest lost heart. They were picked off one by one.”

“Now, Erlong Stockade is all but finished.” Peng Hai lowered his head with a bitter smile. “We few, like homeless dogs, have come to seek refuge with you, Second Master. We ask for nothing but a bite to eat. From now on, our lives are yours.”

“No problem,” Li Yun replied with a smile. “Huzi.”

Zhang Hu stepped forward. “Here.”

“Take a few brothers and help them wash up. Have Fourth Uncle treat their wounds. Let them rest first. We’ll discuss other matters once they’ve recovered.”

“Yes,” Zhang Hu rumbled. “This way, gentlemen.”

The four glanced at Zhou Liang, then followed Zhang Hu out.

Once they left, Li Yun watched them go, then said calmly, “Old Ninth, take all the possessions they brought.”

Liu Bo nodded and went off.

After everyone had left, Li Yun remained standing, looking at Zhou Liang. “Third Uncle, why did you bring people up the mountain?”

Zhou Liang squirmed under his gaze. “Chief, they’re all familiar faces. They sought help at the foot of the mountain. We’re all part of the brotherhood—it wouldn’t be right to refuse…”

“But shouldn’t you have asked me first?”

Zhou Liang wiped the sweat from his brow. “Chief, you’ve met Peng Hai and the others before—you even drank together…”

“Third Uncle,” Li Yun said.

“Yes?”

The chief flexed his limbs. “Let’s have a fight.”

His gaze was calm. “If you win, I’ll leave the mountain and you can be chief.”

“And if you lose…” The chief’s eyes turned fierce. “Then we’ll see how sturdy your old bones are.”

Zhou Liang swallowed hard.

Who in the whole stockade could possibly beat you?

With a thud, Zhou Liang dropped to his knees.

“Chief, I…”

“I acted without thinking…”