The pursuer swung his sword at Zhang Min, but the blade struck a wooden pillar and got stuck. Muttering curses, the man tried to yank it free, just as a handful of dust and dirt hit him in the face. Shielding his eyes, he staggered back, and Zhang Min took the chance to kick him between the legs.

  “U-ugh!” the attacker groaned and stumbled, “I’ll kill you!” he spat through clenched teeth. “Kill you!”

  From inside the barracks came voices and hurried footsteps. The stranger wrenched his stuck sword free with a jerk and, limping, bolted across the yard, vanishing into the darkness within a few breaths. Zhang Min didn’t give chase, wary of an ambush. He only watched the man disappear. Unfortunately, he hadn’t seen the attacker’s face, night’s shadows had hidden it and the figure was unfamiliar. He didn’t recall anyone like that among the bandits. Whoever it was had snuck in on purpose to assassinate him. Luckily, Zhang Min had experience in real combat, so he hadn’t panicked and managed to survive the attempt.

  “Who’s yelling out there?” bandits grumbled.

  “New guy? Why are you screaming in the middle of the night?”

  “Why’d you wake us up, idiot?”

  Would they even help me if I told the truth? Unlikely. They’d probably just laugh, Zhang Min frowned. One of them could even be that man’s accomplice. Most wouldn’t dare cross Tu Hama anyway.

  “I slipped and fell,” he lied.

  “Then why the shouting? Whatever, go back to sleep,” the bandits yawned and shuffled back inside, muttering curses at him.

  “What really happened?” Lao Yu asked once everyone was gone.

  “I was attacked. Someone tried to kill me,” Zhang Min admitted.

  “I see.”

  "You said they wouldn't try to kill me, remember?"

  "Who the hell knows!" Lao Yu threw up his hands. "Besides, the killer wasn't necessarily sent by Tu Hama. Maybe some idiot decided to earn himself some favor."

  "That's also true," Zhang Min agreed.

  “Did you recognize who it was? See his face at least?”

  “No.”

  “That’s bad. They’ll try again. You can’t stay in the barracks anymore.”

  “Maybe I should just leave the fortress altogether?” Zhang Min asked, half-jokingly.

  “Hmph. You don’t know the area. You’d be caught in no time,” Lao Yu shook his head. “If Mo Dushi’s men find you, they’ll skin you alive. Wait until Tan Gui gives you permission to go outside.”

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  “Yeah …”

  The next morning, right after breakfast, Zhang Min moved from the barracks to the hayloft near the pigsty, a place, bandits were forbidden to enter. Away from everyone, he lived quietly, slowly regaining his strength. To hasten his recovery, Zhang Min sank into long meditations following the method from the scroll, occasionally doing light exercises to the rhythm of pigs grunting and chickens clucking.

  He could feel the flow of his inner energy growing stronger, as though the recent beating and the ten lashes had cleared the blockages within his body. It was the second time something like that had happened, and clearly not a coincidence. Apparently, injury and recovery strengthened the tempering of the flesh.

  It’s an effective shortcut, sure, but deliberately injuring myself? That’s just madness, Zhang Min thought, preferring to push himself through sheer exhaustion instead.

  After only four days, he began adding heavier physical training to his meditation and stretches. At first, his damaged muscles trembled like taut ropes, and his joints creaked like the rigging of an old ship, but gradually it became easier, and soon the pain faded altogether. The fatigue after each session brought him satisfaction, and every drop of sweat felt like a step toward recovery.

  “Ah, that’s better!” Zhang Min poured a bucket of water over himself, washing away the sweat.

  “We’re going to dinner. What about you? Staying here again?” Lin Bo asked.

  “Mm-hm. Don’t worry about me. I won’t go hungry.”

  “We did trade a sack of rice for a basket of eggs, but it’s supposed to be for everyone, not just you,” Lin Bin grumbled.

  “Don’t be so stingy,” his older brother scolded.

  “By the way, Tu Hama’s boys have been hanging around the gate the last two days,” warned Lu Han. “Be careful.”

  “Thanks, Brother Lu. I’ll be fine.”

  Looks like they’re tired of waiting. This could get ugly, Zhang Min thought grimly.

  That night, he climbed up onto the tall barn where the livestock feed was stored and made himself a bed on the roof beneath the open sky. A sprawling tree nearby stretched its branches over the upper part of the barn, forming a natural cover.

  Around midnight, the anxious grunting of pigs woke him. Zhang Min crawled to the roof’s edge and listened. Not far from his hiding place, grass rustled and faint whispers carried through the still night.

  So they’ve come after all! he thought, watching from above the dark shapes moving below. Only two? They think I’m that weak? That’s almost insulting.

  The night was cloudless. In the silver light of the moon and stars, the uninvited guests could see clearly even without torches as they moved toward the chicken coops. From time to time, their weapons gleamed—one held an axe, the other a sword. To Zhang Min’s surprise, they passed right by the hayloft where he usually slept without even looking in, heading straight for the coops.

  Wait! They don’t even have to attack me! If those bastards kill a few chickens, I’ll get the blame. Ten lashes won’t be the end of it. Lin Bo and the others will suffer too! Damn it!

  Zhang Min jumped to his feet and slid down the ladder, dashing after the intruders.

  He still had his old blade at his belt, but on the way, he grabbed the wooden training club he used for practicing sword strikes. Though he had no love for the bandits, he didn’t want to spill blood or worse, kill someone by accident. Given Lieutenant Mo’s hostility toward him, the consequences were impossible to predict.

  Damn it! They’ve got real weapons and I’m running in with a stick. I must be out of my mind! he cursed himself.

  Fighting off the tremor in his hands, Zhang Min crept through the barn’s shadow, trying not to make a sound, but perfect silence was impossible. Despite the forest’s noise beyond the palisade, the grunting pigs, and the chirping crickets, every step seemed loud, the rustling grass tinkling like tiny bells. Zhang Min knew there was no chance of sneaking up unnoticed.