“Stop,” one of them whispered. “I thought I heard footsteps.”

  “Hm?” the second one paused to listen. “You’re imagining things. Let’s just do what we came for and get out.”

  The gate in the fence creaked as one of the bandits stepped into the small chicken yard, while the other stayed outside, scanning the area. Inside the little coop, the chickens clucked anxiously. As soon as the intruder opened the door, a rooster burst out, flapping and trying to peck his face. The bandit recoiled, stumbling backward. The chickens took advantage of the confusion and darted out into the yard.

  “What are you doing, idiot?” the second one snapped. “Stop making noise! Just kill them.”

  “I’m trying!” the bandit swung his axe wildly in the dark, aiming at the fleeing birds.

  “Damn it, you fool!” the other hissed through his teeth and reached for the gate. “I’ll do it myself…”

  A dull thud cut him off mid-sentence, and a moment later, from behind the wicker fence came sounds like dough being beaten.

  “Hey! What’s going on?” his companion called out, suddenly forgetting about the chickens. “Don’t just stand there! What are you doing? Huh?” Raising his axe, he approached the fence cautiously.

  On the ground lay his comrade, motionless. The next instant, a large shadow lunged up from below. The bandit, ready for a fight, swung at it, but it was only a discarded shirt. A chill ran down his back as he realized the trick, but before he could react, a heavy blow struck his arm. Pain flared white, his vision darkened, and the axe fell from his hands. Before he could recover, a wooden club came crashing down on his head. He staggered, then collapsed, drooling as consciousness left him.

  “Didn’t kill him? Huff—huff…” Zhang Min checked his pulse, panting. “Seems alive… Whew.”

  Wiping the sweat from his brow, he sat beside the fallen men and leaned back against the fence. A rooster strutted past him proudly, tilted its head to inspect the human, and, recognizing him as a friend, returned to the coop. Though Zhang Min’s hands still trembled and his heart pounded wildly, he couldn’t help but smile at the bold bird.

  “The rooster’s still alive. Ha! Lucky bastard,” he chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll bring you something tasty later. You really saved me tonight.”

  That night’s fight earned Zhang Min another sword, a decent axe, and two silver coins from each of the night visitors—probably their payment for the job. In exchange for his torn shirt, he took one from the bandits. Unfortunately, two chickens had died in the chaos. Early in the morning, when the farmhands came to feed the animals, Zhang Min left them to guard the tied-up intruders and went himself to fetch Mo Dushi, reporting the attack on the chickens.

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  “You beat them?” Mo asked when he came to collect the prisoners.

  “Yes.”

  Without another word, Mo Dushi left. The terrified farmhands trembled like leaves in the wind under his gaze, pretending to be invisible. When his broad back finally disappeared behind the buildings, they collapsed to the ground, exhaling in relief. The thought of a nighttime assault on the animals frightened them deeply, after all, they could have been punished even if innocent. To calm their nerves, the four men threw themselves into work with twice their usual effort.

  “Brother Zhang, you saved us,” Lin Bo said gratefully.

  “Saved us? They came here because of him,” Lin Bin snorted irritably. “He just fixed his own mistake.”

  “Don’t say that!” his older brother snapped.

  While they argued, Zhang Min was lost in thought, ignoring Lin Bin’s words. No punishment, no praise. Hard to tell if there’ll be consequences or not.

  From that day on, no strangers came near the livestock yard. For a time, peace returned. Taking advantage of Mo Dushi’s silence, Zhang Min continued living in the old shed that stood in the middle of an abandoned field behind the pigsties. In the evenings he cleaned the pens and coops, sometimes the stables, and spent all his free time training.

  From time to time, Lao Yu stopped by and, keeping his promise, taught Zhang Min to handle a sword. He passed on a technique with the strange name “The Wanderer Who Drives Off Dogs.” It was a cheap, common skill one could buy in any town, but to his student, Lao Yu claimed it was the ancient art of the “Dragon Sword”. It included the basics of swordsmanship, stances, footwork, and movement in battle.

  “Hmph. You’re wasting your time hiding out here,” Lao Yu said one day as he watched Zhang Min train. “What you really need is experience. Go out there and fight whoever Tu Hama sends.”

  “They want to kill me. Why risk it?”

  “You don’t understand Tu Hama. He doesn’t want you dead.”

  “Then what does he want?”

  “Submission, what else?” the shaggy bandit grinned, shaking his nearly empty wine flask and peering inside with one squinted eye. “He wants to see you on your knees, begging for forgiveness or something like that. Killing you wouldn’t help him, but beating you up? That’s a warning to everyone else.”

  “Eh? Easy for you to say. You’re not the one getting beaten.”

  “You’ll endure. Wooden swords—whack, whack!” he made a few theatrical swings in the air. “You’ll gain experience. Sooner or later, you’ll have to leave this place anyway.”

  “It hasn’t even been ten days, and you talk like I’ve been stuck here forever.”

  “Think about what I said. Don’t miss a good chance.”

  “Hm”, Zhang Min scratched his head. “Even if I follow your advice, it’d be stupid to go in unprepared.”

  “What do you need for that?” Lao Yu’s eyes lit up with anticipation.

  “Medicines and healing herbs to recover quickly after a fight, plus anything that helps purify the body and build up life Qi.”

  “Oh! So you’re aiming for a breakthrough to the first stage of Body Tempering. I approve!”

  “Exactly”, Zhang Min nodded. “Can I get what I need inside the fort?”

  “You can”, Lao Yu said thoughtfully, scratching his cheek. “I know someone who might help. You got money?”

  “Recently came into some. Will it cost much?”

  “Hard to say”, Lao Yu shook his head. “Just in case, talk to Lin Bo about another batch of eggs.”

  “All right. I’d better go shovel manure, if I turn useless, they’ll kick me out fast”, Zhang Min said, taking his leave.

  “Yeah,” the shaggy bandit watched him go and rubbed his hands together with a grin. “Something tells me things are about to get fun in the fortress. Heh-heh. I can’t wait…”