The journey from the mountain fort to the city took Zhang Ming’s group exactly four days without rest, moving almost at a run. Following an experienced guide, they traveled only along forest paths, avoiding merchants, wandering travelers, and even villages. Not a single soul knew that two dozen heavily armed cutthroats had passed by. No one disturbed the peaceful lives of the common people. Patrols from the local garrison did not appear on the roads; the soldiers remained inside their forts. Unnoticed by both townsfolk and guards, the bandit squad emerged on the outskirts of Baohe.

  “We’re here,” Zhang Ming said, sweeping a hand toward the city walls.

  “A-are we going to rob Baohe?” Lu Piao asked doubtfully.

  “We won’t be robbing the whole city. Just part of it.”

  “Oh!” The bandits exchanged glances.

  “I don’t like this. It’s easier robbing travelers on the road. Behind those walls, we’ll trapped like rats,” one of the men complained.

  “You seriously think we’re here to rob the city?” Zhang Ming scoffed. “I appreciate the enthusiasm, but that’s not why we came. First, we need to get inside.”

  “It won’t be easy, Brother Zhang. This isn’t Puyang where we could blend in among refugees! Just look at us!” One of the bandits gestured at himself and the others. “It’s obvious we’re mountain bandits. No one will let us in. If we get caught, we’ll be hanging from the walls.”

  “Mm,” another agreed. “So what do we do?”

  “Obviously we won’t be going through the main gate,” Zhang Ming reassured them. “There’s another way. We’re not the first from Earth Dragon Fort to come here, and we won’t be the last.”

  “You’re acting like frightened hens,” the guide assigned to the squad sneered. “Come on. I’ll show you how we get in.”

  Though Baohe was surrounded by tall walls, they did not stop smugglers, criminals, and other shady figures from entering. Some arrived by fishing boats. Others bribed the guards. And some, perhaps, knew secret routes. In the poorer districts, where the watch did not enforce order too strictly, stolen and forbidden goods were always available on market stalls, and wanted criminals roamed the streets freely.

  Under the cover of darkness, fishing boats from a tiny riverside village ferried the two dozen bandits into Baohe. Like a drop in the sea, they dissolved into the vast city.

  To the mountain bandits, Baohe seemed like paradise. Even at night, people filled the streets, late-returning women, shopkeepers pushing carts. The flimsy doors of houses tempted them to step inside and claim everything for themselves. With heavy sighs, the bandits passed luxurious pavilions, devouring the rich furnishings and expensive fabrics with their eyes.

  “So we’re in the city. What now?” the most impatient grumbled.

  “Wouldn’t mind some food… and a drink…” others muttered cautiously.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “Shut your mouths and follow me,” Zhang Ming ordered sternly. “Don’t draw attention.”

  The mountain bandits were a vivid sight. Scarred arms showed through sleeveless tunics. Weapons hung from belts and backs. After days in the forest, their fierce faces were smeared with dirt, hair jutting in all directions. Passersby froze in fear at the sight of the group.

  “Brother Zhang, I know a good place where we can lie low without drawing stares,” the guide said quietly.

  “Good. We need to get off the streets before someone calls the guards,” Zhang Ming agreed. “Deep in the slums, I assume?”

  “Oh? You’ve been to Baohe before?”

  “Not exactly. Every city has a place like that.” Zhang Ming had no intention of sharing more about himself.

  “Fair enough.”

  Through narrow alleys, the guide led the two dozen bandits to the part of the poor district farthest from the guards, where an old inn stood, run by a half-blind elderly man. There they settled temporarily, hidden from prying eyes. Among the crooked huts lived people of all backgrounds and trades, no one would raise alarm over strangers. Only the local thugs grew tense, suspecting an intrusion onto their territory.

  That same night, before midnight, Zhang Ming personally delivered Tang Gui’s message to the residence of the Hengyang Clan, arriving at the appointed time. Naturally, no one of importance from the clan received him. In a small reception hall built specifically for unwanted guests, a servant met him. Zhang Ming handed over the letter and a sealed box bearing an unbroken seal. In return, he received several silver coins, likely for lodging, then returned to the inn to await a reply.

  “How many days will I wait?” he asked the servant before leaving.

  “As many as it takes,” the man replied curtly.

  That means a long time, Zhang Ming thought. That works in my favor.

  The next morning, he selected several of the least intimidating-looking men from the group and sent them to scout the city, gather rumors, gossip, and information about the general situation. The rest he forbade from leaving, placing them under Lu Piao’s supervision. Finally, he set off for his old home, the place he had wanted to see all this time.

  As he approached the familiar street, Zhang Ming felt a wave of nostalgia for the days when he had worked as a dock porter. He inhaled the sea-scented air and smiled faintly at the roadside stalls and small shops. None of his former neighbors or shopkeepers recognized him. People avoided raising their eyes to someone who looked like a bandit; only a few dared to cast cautious glances from afar.

  Soon his old house came into view, the place where he had lived with Xue and Mingzhu for nearly half a year. The courtyard was overgrown with weeds and looked abandoned. Dust covered the path before the door. The shutters hung crooked, and cobwebs dangled beneath the eaves.

  It seems my last warning worked after all, he thought. No signs of intruders.

  With a creak, the door slid open, stale air brushing against his face. Dust swirled through the empty room, stirred by the draft. Mouse tracks marked the floor, and faint rustling came from beneath the boards. Inside, the house looked just as abandoned as outside. Clearly, no one had entered for a long time.

  Crossing the yard, Zhang Ming knocked on his neighbor Hong Shu’s door to tell her about Xue and Mingzhu. The woman had often helped the girls, and he had no doubt she would be glad to hear news of them. The door opened to reveal a tired and slightly frightened Hong Shu, but upon recognizing her former neighbor, she smiled.

  “Sir Zhang, I’m glad to see you in good health,” she said with a slight bow. “Please, come in. I’ll prepare some tea.”

  “Thank you, Hong Shu, but there’s no need. I won’t stay long,” he declined. “I came to share good news. I found Xue and Mingzhu. They’re safe.”

  “That’s wonderful! I’m so glad to hear it! Where did you find them?”

  “In Puyang. The girls are living there now.”

  “So… does that mean you’ll be moving there? You won’t return here? They say it’s not peaceful there these days,” the worried woman pressed a hand to her cheek. “Will everything be all right?”

  “I can’t say for certain yet. I would like to return.”

  “That would be wonderful.”

  “There’s something else… My younger daughter told me about a boy, either a friend or a servant, I’m not entirely sure. I want to know if he’s still alive. Shi Quan. Have you heard of him?” Zhang Ming asked. “Where can I find him?”