Ten days had passed since Zhang Min joined the Earth Dragon band, yet he still had not taken part in a single raid. Every morning he shoveled the pigsties with a large shovel, replaced the animals’ straw bedding, and then went about his own business. They fed the men twice a day, barely enough to keep one going, but Zhang Min kept training; moreover, he had forged a heavy cudgel with a hilt like a sword and practiced simple strikes, strengthening his arms as he did so.

  On the forested mountain there was little else to occupy him, so he devoted all his free time to training. Zhang Min’s restless nature demanded action, and if he did not exhaust himself with physical work he would have died of boredom. The locals either hunted or gambled; they did not take him along.

  The barracks’ residents had not yet warmed to the newcomers; they did not consider them part of the squad or even their equals. Because of his work, Zhang Min smelled of manure, which invited a fresh wave of mockery and insults. The bandits did not hold back in their language, though, fortunately, they did not pick fights. Probably Tang Gui had ordered the peasants left alone, but he could not shut mouths.

  "Oh! Our dung-beater is back! Heh-heh."

  "Hey, newbie! I piled up a heap — go clear it! Ha-ha-ha!"

  "Oi, fool!" one bandit jabbed his finger into Zhang Min’s chest "It’s hot out! I’m sweating like a pig! Wash my shirt!"

  "We’ll do it, big brother!" Lin Bo answered for him.

  "Move it! Get your legs moving."

  The four peasants responded calmly and wearily; they smiled, bowed, and did the small chores without complaint. Zhang Min, however, could not bring himself to obey and pretended not to hear the insults. His indifference irritated some of the barracks dwellers, while others noticed the newcomer’s lean, sinewy build and stopped tormenting him.

  Now is not the time to show spirit. If I get into a fight, Tang Gui’s order will stop protecting me. I’ll lose my shield, Zhang Min thought. The bandits will fall on me like jackals. I’m still a stranger to them. They could kill me.

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  Yet his patience was tested again and again. One morning he woke to discover his faithful sword was gone. The weapon had disappeared along with its scabbard; even the rag he used to clean the blade had been filched. Asking the bandits was pointless, they only laughed louder, and there was no one to complain to. The sword held little value in a bandit fortress teeming with arms; they stole it out of spite, simply to make trouble for Zhang Min.

  "Bastards!" he ground his teeth.

  Unlike him, the sociable Lin Bo had quickly made a new friend: a shaggy bandit nicknamed Lao Yu. The wiry old man always carried a gourd flask of wine and took swigs from it from time to time. His almost white hair had never seen a comb; his thin beard stuck out in all directions. He and Lin Bo hit it off fast, they both liked to drink. In the evenings they whispered plans for getting more wine.

  "If there’s no money, we must barter for something!" Lao Yu said, shaking his head. "I tell you — nick a couple of eggs."

  "If they catch us," Lin Bo whispered, "they’ll tear my head off."

  "Who’ll notice? You’re kings here now. Drove the others off! Right, Zhang Min?"

  "Mm. I think it’s not a bad idea. Only need a reliable buyer to swap eggs for wine."

  "I have one!" Lao Yu grinned mysteriously.

  Like any large organization, the Earth Dragon fortress had its food stores and people in charge of them. By some mysterious arrangement there always seemed to be a few extra bottles of wine, rice, or other small luxuries. With a little sincerity in the form of coins or rare goods, any bandit could buy food or drink beyond the rationed share. The leaders turned a blind eye.

  The next evening at dusk, the four conspirators met at the agreed spot; Lin Bo and his brother Lin Bin brought a basket of contraband. The shaggy bandit Yu led them to the right man, and after a tense trade they walked away with two jugs of rice wine, four stale flatbreads, and a sack of beans. Lin Bo and his brother had sweat from fear, but left happy, filled with anticipation.

  "Haven’t met such proper lads in a while!" Lao Yu rejoiced, slapping their backs.

  "Old Yu, I don’t think this will be the last purchase," Zhang Min smiled. "Look how glad they are. Soon they’ll trade more, more often."

  "Ha-ha! I smell merry days ahead," the shaggy bandit kissed the wine jug and pressed it to his cheek.

  "What heartfelt love," Zhang Min laughed.

  "You bet!"

  They decided to drink in the pigyard, where they could escort Lao Yu without fuss, two dozing guards on post drooled and paid no mind. On a wide patch of ground overgrown with waist-high weeds, if not taller, just behind the big sty, Lu Han, Xiao Bai, and a laid table awaited them. That evening the runaway peasants felt human for the first time in ages. They drank with simple snacks and laughed heartily. Zhang Min did not drink, but he enjoyed the company, especially Lao Yu, who knew much about the gang’s inner workings.

  As I thought, the leaders keep the gold and other valuables for themselves. Robbing them will be very hard, Zhang Min pondered. But the storerooms are easier. Opportunities lie where we least expect them.

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