From what he’d observed, Tu Hama didn’t command nearly as much respect as he liked to pretend. No more than a dozen men were truly loyal to him; the rest kept their distance, preferring not to get involved. Each unit had its own little cliques, dozens of them, and not all of them got along. That gave Zhang Min a real chance of making it out alive.

  Lying on the hayloft beside the livestock shed, he ran through different scenarios in his mind, planning how he’d act when the time came.

  “Hmm… I need to separate Tu Hama from his men. Thin their numbers a bit.” He pulled a few coins from his belt, miraculously spared during those hellish days.

  “I wonder what other herbs our ‘honest’ Shang Yunzǐ is selling… I’ll go ask.” He sprang to his feet and headed toward the storage sheds.

  The next morning, Zhang Min prepared a hearty breakfast for the captives: chicken eggs, scraps of dried meat, and a bowl of rice. After yesterday’s conversation, they still looked downcast, but said nothing, eating silently while their jailer sat nearby, lost in thought, resting his chin on his fist. Sunlight streamed through the open hatch above, making the lamp unnecessary.

  The youngest of the girls got up from her bedding, walked over to him, and carefully sat down beside him, hugging her knees. From time to time she turned her head, as if trying to say something but unable to find the courage. At last, mustering her resolve, she rolled up her sleeve and held out her hand to Zhang Min.

  “Have a candy. You’ll feel better,” she offered.

  “Huh? What?” Zhang Min snapped out of his thoughts. “Where did you get candy?”

  “We found it inside a figurine… a piece broke off… by itself… it wasn’t our fault. Take these two. They’re the biggest.”

  “Thanks,” he replied automatically, accepting the gift. “I should go.”

  “You won’t leave us, will you?” the older girl asked hopefully.

  “I have to go… but if I survive, I’ll definitely come back. I promise. You’ll have to wait.”

  “I believe you’ll survive. We’ll wait.”

  “Huh?” Zhang Min lifted his head and for the first time met the girl’s beautiful black eyes.

  “Make sure you come back,” she said.

  “Yeah,” he nodded, averting his gaze, knowing how hard it would be to keep that promise. “Take care of yourselves and don’t get caught.”

  When Zhang Min left the barnyard and passed the stables, two of Tu Hama’s lackeys followed him. They kept their distance and didn’t say a word, but their presence was irritating all the same. Instead of heading for the barracks, Zhang Min went to the training ground to get some exercise. He hadn’t had a proper workout in days, so he wanted to push himself before the long march.

  On the way, he popped the candy, about the size of a thumb, into his mouth. A pleasant aroma filled it, like mint blended with wild herbs in a harmonious dance of flavors. He even hummed softly in satisfaction. Unfortunately, the candy melted too quickly, leaving a warm feeling in his stomach.

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  At the training ground, Zhang Min stretched, warmed up his muscles, and began a serious workout, but after only a few movements, heat surged through his whole body, and sweat poured from him though a cool breeze blew outside. With every breath, vapor escaped his mouth, his skin flushed red, muscles and joints creaked under strain, and his bones ached as power suddenly flooded outward from his abdomen.

  “Candy? Don’t make me laugh! That’s a pill!” he blurted out, then immediately caught himself and looked around to make sure no one had overheard.

  To calm the raging energy, Zhang Min began practicing the technique from the scroll as before. Within minutes, he was drenched as if caught in a downpour. His clothes darkened and clung to his skin, while murky drops formed on his hair. Sticky, greasy sweat covered his body. His blood raced through his veins, washing away another layer of impurities accumulated through years of life in the slums.

  After several hours, he finally managed to bring the inner energy under control and ease the burning sensation throughout his body. His heart pounded wildly, his hands trembled slightly. The spot where he trained was now a puddle of sweat. The remaining energy turned into a pleasant warmth that flowed gently through him from head to toe. Breathing heavily after the long session, Zhang Min sat down to meditate and absorb what was left.

  When he opened his eyes, he saw the sun slowly rising above the forest, its blinding rays heralding the coming of morning. Birds chirped on the branches, and distant voices carried from afar. The bandits were beginning to wake, relieving themselves or scavenging for food. Night sentries were being replaced by the new shift. Near the training ground, two of Tu Hama’s lackeys were asleep, slumped against the fence.

  “Whoa! I sat here all day and night? All because of one pill?” Zhang Min looked around. “Where did those even come from? How many were there?”

  Wait! She said she found the candies… inside a figurine? Zhang Min recalled. Huh? They broke an expensive figurine! He rubbed his forehead. …Well, never mind. One less, one more, it doesn’t matter. They did great! I’d hug them if I weren’t afraid of scaring them to death.

  He remembered his conversation with the warrior from the Zhao clan about special pills and elixirs for martial practitioners, things worth a fortune. Moreover, the better the medicine, the higher the price. Though he had no idea exactly what kind he’d eaten, it was clearly a good one. After just one pill, his internal energy had doubled, and his body had purged another layer of filth accumulated over years of poverty and drunkenness.

  So that’s why they’re so valuable! Strange that the bandits left something this good lying around in storage, Zhang Min thought, stepping over the sleeping men.

  “Hey, what are you doing here?” a rough voice barked. “Get to the barracks! Lieutenant Mo’s orders! Gather everyone for the expedition. Take those idiots with you!”

  Damn it! I wanted to run to the hideout and grab the rest of the pills from the kids. Now I can’t go back there, Zhang Min frowned.

  After using the pill, his whole body was coated in a grimy, sticky sweat, and his hair hung in filthy clumps. He stank horribly, like rotting flesh, so when he returned to the barracks, Zhang Min washed himself in a large tub and, while waiting for further orders, scrubbed his clothes in a basin.

  “Damn it! Those little ones think priceless pills are candy. By the time I get back, they’ll have eaten them all!” Zhang Min muttered under his breath. “Will they be okay? She gave me the biggest ones… but was that all of them? Damn it, so much money gone to waste,” he almost groaned. “What a pity.”

  “Move it! To the gates, now! You useless idiots!” Mo Dushi’s voice cut off his muttering.

  Hurrying through the streets toward the fortress gate, Zhang Min caught a glimpse out of the corner of his eye: one of the warehouse guards, the very warehouse he’d taken the figurines from, was being dragged across the ground by his arms, blood streaking his face. A man in black walked ahead of them at an unhurried pace, one of those who’d arrived with Yin Hua.

  “Hey! What are you stoppin' for?” a bandit he didn’t recognize shouted at him.

  “Uh… nothing. I’m coming,” Zhang Min replied, while inside his thoughts churned in panic: What’s going on…? Is this because of the figurines, or the captives? Are they looking for me?