“I’m guarding the pig pens and the chicken coop from thieves,” Zhang Ming replied as he rose to his feet. “Please forgive me for disturbing you by my foolish mistake.” He lowered his head and waited.

  “I’ll ask again. What were you doing here? Tell me honestly, and you may go.”

  “Guarding the pigs,” Zhang Ming repeated. “Four other people work here as well. Yesterday, we all had dinner together.”

  “You’re lying to me…” The man from the Blood Cloud Sect glanced around and drew in a deep breath through his nose. “There’s something else… I can’t quite place it, but the scent is very familiar…”

  “There’s nothing.”

  “Fine.” The disciple lightly patted Zhang Ming on the cheek. “We’ll see…”

  After wandering around the pig yard, grimacing at the stench of manure, he found nothing. Then man from the Blood Cloud Sect vanished just as quickly as he had appeared.

  Keeping the same calm expression, Zhang Ming straightened up and continued cleaning and washing the dishes, though he could still feel that piercing gaze on his back. The back of his head prickled as if pierced by tiny needles, and an uneasy sensation followed him, the kind where you can’t sit or stand comfortably no matter how you shift.

  How did he end up here? What drew him in? Did Ying Hua suddenly remember me and send this disciple? Zhang Ming tried to make sense of it. I think I’ve used up all my luck today. If he’d arrived a little earlier… I don’t even want to think about it. I’ve grown careless. Too used to this. Damn it.

  When the sun finally climbed above the horizon and the roosters announced the morning with their cries, he headed back to the barracks to sleep.

  Late in the morning, the smell of food woke him. Together with the other bandits, he went out into the yard, where he once again felt a faint prickling at the back of his head, even his back itched slightly. All day long, no matter where he went, he sensed that gaze upon him.

  Under that watchful attention, Zhang Ming pretended to be an ordinary bandit, doing dull things. He played dice with the others, chatted about nonsense, stood guard at the gates for several hours in a row, then trained using the simplest routine without revealing the technique from the scroll, and afterward meditated a little.

  He stayed away from the livestock yard, stopping by the stables a couple of times instead, he had worked there before and greeted the men.

  Why is he clinging to me? I don’t get it, Zhang Ming thought as he threw dice with the others from the barracks, pretending to enjoy wasting time. Just because I looked at Ying Hua? That’s ridiculous! Damn psychos. I can’t go near the old shed, but the girls can’t stay hidden there forever waiting for me. I need to divert attention. Better to leave the fortress for a while.

  Remembering how much Mo Dushi disliked him, he decided to appear before him more often, like an annoying fly. He enlisted Lu Piao and several others from the gang to report where Tang Gui’s right-hand man was going. Wherever that was, Zhang Ming would suddenly show up, either playing dice with the bandits or training loudly nearby.

  If you’re not seen, you’re forgotten, Zhang Ming smirked to himself. You’ll be seeing me in nightmare soon.

  For two days straight, he constantly showed up around Mo Dushi’s eyes. At the same time, the gaze of the man from the Blood Cloud Sect would occasionally find him as well, as if checking what he was up to. From the outside, Zhang Ming seemed to be doing nothing special, but Mo Dushi quickly grew tired of him. On the third day, after delivering another report to Tang Gui, he himself suggested sending the annoying newcomer far from the fortress.

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  “You used to say he’d run away the moment I let him out,” Tang Gui laughed. “Now you’re the one sending him off.”

  “Forgive me. I didn’t see as deeply as you did, my lord,” Mo Dushi admitted his mistake.

  “You don’t have to like him,” Tang Gui instructed. “Just find a use for him. Gain his trust. I’m still curious how he broke into the Body Tempering Realm. What technique he used.”

  “That boy’s too crafty. He won’t talk easily.”

  “That’s why you need to win his trust. Hm… He wanted to be useful. Let’s give him a squad and let him try his luck.”

  “Very well, my lord. I’ll take care of it… today. I can’t stand looking at his sly mug anymore.”

  “Ah, Brother Mo,” Tang Gui shook his head. “With that attitude, it’ll be hard to earn his trust.”

  That same evening, Zhang Ming received a new assignment. He was to deliver a letter to the Heyang Clan in the city of Baohe. Instead of an envelope, he was given a fairly large scroll sealed with wax, too big to be sent by messenger bird or hawk. Along with the letter came a box wrapped in paper and sealed as well.

  This time, Tang Gui appointed him leader of a squad of two dozen men. With a kind smile, he politely asked him to make it in four days and promised not to punish him if the letter arrived late or if the seal was accidentally broken. For some reason, such generosity carried a chill of death. Zhang Ming wouldn’t dare test the truth of the commander’s words.

  “A message confirming receipt will be sent back to me by pigeon,” Tang Gui added. “Wait for the full reply. There will be another package for me as well.”

  “Yes.”

  After thanking the commander with a deep bow, Zhang Ming returned to the barracks and began preparing for the journey. He had managed to secure an assignment beyond the fortress walls without raising suspicion and on top of that, full freedom of action, the position of group leader, and more than two dozen hands at his command. A smile spread across his face on its own. The plan had worked even better than he’d hoped.

  “Oh! Lao Yu, you’re back!” he ran into the shaggy drunkard at the barracks entrance. “Where’ve you been?”

  “Here and there,” the man waved it off. “I see you’re heading out again?”

  “Yeah.” Then he leaned closer and whispered, “The Heyang Clan. Ever heard of them?”

  “Of course I have! Where do you think our food comes from?” Lao Yu snorted. “Over five hundred people here, and there’s always food. Ever wonder why? We’re basically their hidden force. We rob when they tell us to, and don’t when they forbid it. Part of the loot goes to them.”

  “That’s about what I thought. The chief is practical, he’s tied not only to the Blood Cloud Sect but also to a clan in Baohe. Or is there a connection between them too?”

  “Hmph.” The shaggy rogue scoffed. “Best not stick your nose into that kind of business. You’ll live longer.”

  Until late at night, Zhang Ming prepared, checking supplies and the men assigned to his squad. During his time on the mountain, he had memorized the faces of most of the Brown Boar squad, and with Tang Gui’s permission, he personally selected his people.

  On the final night before departure, he wasn’t able to visit the girls.

  Early in the morning, while dew still clung to the grass and a thin white mist drifted over the treetops, two dozen men left the fort. Breathing in the cool morning air, they set off along an overgrown forest path. The anticipation of robbery, plunder, and violence stirred the bandits’ blood. Each of them marched with his own expectations, but only Zhang Ming knew the true destination and the real purpose of the expedition.

  “Thank you for taking me with you again, sir,” Lu Piao said cheerfully as he walked beside him.

  “Mm,” Zhang Ming nodded.

  Soon the squad disappeared among the trees, while the sentries, yawning, lay back down at their posts to finish their dreams. Earth Dragon Fortress continued its usual life. People came and went, and it seemed nothing had changed. Life was especially quiet in the livestock yard, where no one was allowed without special permission from the gang leaders.

  After Zhang Ming’s departure, the former peasants had to guard the animals themselves at night. The first watch fell to Lin Bo. Groaning, he rose from the bench in front of the pig pens and, scratching, went to relieve himself. Suddenly, a silhouette flashed between the buildings, shaped like a person, but much smaller.

  Lin Bo’s heart skipped a beat. With trembling legs, he took a few steps forward and peeked around the corner of the pig pen. There, among the grass, a small figure danced about, wrapped in a loose shroud, moving incredibly fast.

  “A ghost?” he murmured.

  Suddenly, the night visitor turned its head toward Lin Bo. He quickly ducked back behind the corner. Catching his breath, the peasant peeked out again, but the clearing was empty. A chill ran down his spine. Lin Bo imagined that a ghost, a jiangshi, or some other monster would leap out at him from the darkness at any moment. Pale with fear, he bolted for home, stumbling and falling on legs that felt like cotton.