“Which one of you is Tu Hama?” Zhang Min couldn’t hold back. “Why did you call me here?”

  “Oh!” — Silence fell. The bandits turned toward the tall man, waiting for his reaction.

  “Hmph.” A flash of irritation crossed the leader’s face, but it was quickly replaced by a smile. “Ha-ha-ha. Such an impatient newcomer.”

  “Ha-ha-ha,” the bandits echoed him.

  “Is that how you talk to your senior brothers?” one of the players shouted. “Didn’t your filthy parents teach you manners? You wait until your elders address you first, you little bastard!”

  “It’s fine,” the tall man interrupted.

  “You’re too kind, Brother Tu.”

  What kind of play is this? Zhang Min fumed inwardly. Why are they wasting time? Why did they even call me here, those bastards?

  The tall man looked vaguely familiar. His bald crown gleamed in the sunlight, with dirty strands of hair hanging down past his shoulders. Dust clung to his unshaven face, and his eyes glinted beneath half-closed lids. He didn’t look particularly strong or intimidating, yet he exuded a palpable pressure.

  I remember now! He’s the bandit from the river crossing! I gave him the purse on the merchant’s orders! Zhang Min tensed. Don’t tell me he recognized me.

  “I’ve heard you’re quite capable,” Tu Hama finally said. “You beat an experienced fighter.”

  “They were fighting with sticks,” one of the bandits interjected. “Otherwise, he’d already be in the ground.”

  “Maybe so, but he still won.”

  “You’re always right, Brother Tu.”

  “Let’s get straight to the point,” the tall man said, locking eyes with Zhang Min. “Join me. No one will dare touch you again. We’re all brothers here, as you can see. If you agree, I’ll have you moved to our barracks.”

  Become one of your lackeys? Not a chance, Zhang Min thought, but aloud he said, “I’m afraid I’m not worthy of such kindness”.

  “That’s for me to decide. So, do you agree or not?”

  “I need time to think”.

  “What? Time to think? What’s there to think about! Brother is showing you mercy!” another sycophant barked.

  “I fear my weakness might shame my elder brothers,” Zhang Min replied smoothly. “I just need some time to prove myself worthy of your kindness”.

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  “I see”, Tu Hama said, narrowing his eyes. “You may go”.

  “Thank you, senior brother,” Zhang Min bowed, though inwardly he thought, I did everything right, so why does this feel so wrong?

  The next day, on his way from the pigpens to the barracks, three unfamiliar bandits blocked his path. One of them stepped directly in front of Zhang Min, arm outstretched, face twisted with hostility. The frightened farmers who had been walking with him backed away, glancing nervously between the men.

  “What do you want?” Zhang Min asked.

  “Hmph. How rude. No respect for your elders,” said a bearded bandit, shaking his head. “Then it’s our duty, as your senior brothers, to teach you some manners.”

  They’ve been waiting for me. They want a fight, Zhang Min realized. No matter what I do, they’ll beat me bloody again.

  “Forgive me, elder brothers,” he said quickly, bowing.

  “Eh?” The bandit froze. “Well, yeah… you should apologize.” He turned to his companions for help, clearly thrown off by the unexpected humility.

  “Heh-heh-heh, we can’t just let you go,” said a skinny man with an earring. “You still need to learn your lesson.”

  So, they’re not backing down. Someone must’ve sicced these dogs on me, Zhang Min sighed inwardly, rubbing his chin. There’s no point retreating. If I do, I’ll just look like a coward, and they won’t leave me alone anyway.

  The scrawny bandit with the earring assumed the newcomer was trembling from fear. Swaggering forward, he raised a hand to slap Zhang Min, only to be met with a sharp, straight punch to the nose. Stunned, the man grabbed his face, but a powerful hook caught him in the jaw before he could react. In the blink of an eye, no one had time to move before the skinny bandit collapsed to the ground like a sack of dung, scraping his head on the dirt.

  “Looks like you don’t know how high the heavens are!” the bearded one roared, charging at Zhang Min. “I’ll teach you some respect!”

  “You filthy bastard!” yelled the third, his arrogant grin fading fast.

  Before he could reach him, Zhang Min had already landed a few solid jabs to the bearded man’s face. When the man staggered back, Zhang Min kicked him square in the chest as if breaking down a door. The bandit fell flat on his back but immediately tried to rise. His companion lunged, swinging wildly, but the world spun, his legs flipped through the air, and a heartbeat later, the third bandit met the ground with brutal force.

  The brawl descended into chaos, a flurry of fists, elbows, and knees. Blood splattered across the ground. Every face was marked with bruises and cuts. Hands grabbed at clothes, pulling and tearing; Zhang Min’s robe ripped apart with a loud crack. The skinny man with the earring, barely conscious, lay at his feet, clutching at Zhang Min’s ankles and tugging at his pants.

  Training had hardened Zhang Ming's body, while the skills from his native world, acquired during his military service, astonished and disconcerted his opponents. None of them had expected such strength from the newcomer. Though he, too, had taken heavy blows, one eye swollen shut, he had pummeled the three bandits' faces into a gruesome pulp. They were so swollen from the beating that they had become simply unrecognizable.

  Panting, the defeated bandits sprawled on the ground, while Zhang Min—his clothes torn, body spattered with blood—stood over them, fists clenched. Around them, a crowd had gathered. The fight, the sight of blood, it all stirred the mountain bandits’ savage hearts. They shouted and cheered, urging the violence to continue.

  “Enough!” boomed a voice.

  Everyone froze and turned.

  A stocky, middle-aged man was walking toward them. The bandits stepped aside to clear a path, some even ducking behind others to avoid his gaze. Frowning, the man surveyed the scene.

  A few paces behind him stood Tu Hama, wearing a smug, satisfied grin.

  And what the hell is that bastard doing here? Zhang Min thought, scowling. Damn it!