Wuling Stronghold was not small. Bao Li had said there were over four thousand people inside. Xing Muzheng, looking out, saw wooden houses densely packed, making it hard to judge where Fang Xiong might be. A few little children ran past in front of him; some knife-wielding bandits strolled in groups of three or five, seemingly patrolling. Others hurried about, all appearing to have pressing matters.
Some patrolling bandits, seeing Xing Muzheng dressed as a yamen officer, grew suspicious and came to question him. Xing Muzheng pretended to have a stomachache, asking where the latrine was. One of them led him to a secluded privy, intending to keep watch until he finished. But as soon as he turned his head, a razor-sharp dagger was pressed to his throat, and from the yamen officer’s mouth came a voice cold as ice:”Where is Fang Xiong?”
This bandit was loyal; he risked his life trying to cry out, but before he could, his mouth was covered and his throat cut. Xing Muzheng tossed him into the reeking ditch as if throwing away garbage. The ditch was sunken deep, so no one would notice for some time.
Another bandit came out of the latrine whistling. He saw the yamen costume and froze; in the next instant, that “yamen officer” had dragged him into a corner, a bloodstained dagger at his throat, and a voice like the King of H*ll summoning souls: “Where is Fang Xiong?”
The bandit’s legs shook violently. “Spare me, master! This little one only works in the kitchen, I don’t know where the boss is!”
Xing Muzheng said nothing more, withdrew, and cut him down too.
Wiping the blood off his dagger, Xing Muzheng entered the privy and shed the yamen uniform. Underneath he wore only a short blue shirt, plain as could be. Stepping out, he caught sight of a girl with braids, head lowered, heading toward another privy. Xing Muzheng grabbed her, pressed his dagger to her throat as before, his eyes showing no distinction between man and woman, still cold and menacing as he asked:
“Where is Fang Xiong?”
This girl was the same one who had just come out of Fang Xiong’s room. Hearing his words, her eyes widened in terror; her lips trembled for a long while before she could speak: “That… that bandit is in his own quarters… just follow the main road outside upward, the one with a tiger skin hanging at the door…”
She panted a few times. “Hero, save me! I was kidnapped by the bandits, I beg you to take me away!”
Xing Muzheng asked: “Did you see if he had a woman with him?”
“I did! That older sister’s hands were tied, she also looked like she’d been abducted. Oh right, the bandits want to go by boat! They said everyone is leaving!”
“Where is the boat?”
“I don’t know, I really don’t know! I was only just captured too. Hero, please save me…” The girl could not help but break into tears.
Xing Muzheng said: “Stay put. Later someone will come to save you.” With that, he knocked her unconscious and dragged her into a woodshed.
He then strode quickly up the path the braided girl had pointed out. Before the tiger-skin-hung house, the door stood wide open. His eyes sharpened; he slipped inside like a ghost, but the room was empty—already no one there. He slammed a fist into the window lattice.
Inside him the demons raged, as if he were back in his mad state, about to flood out. In his mind Fang Xiong was already a corpse torn to pieces. As long as Qian Jiaoniang was not back by his side, his heart burned as though gnawed by ten thousand ants. From the corner of his eye, he glimpsed a line of figures moving northward outside, one slender back he knew too well—if that wasn’t Jiaoniang, who else could it be? But in the blink of an eye, the group disappeared behind the wooden houses.
Xing Muzheng immediately gave chase.
***
Qian Jiaoniang heard the roar of rushing water. She was pulled out of the forest and before her a wide silver-white waterfall cascaded from the mountain heights, a cloud of mist at its base, like a scene from a fairyland. This must be the waterfall Xing Muzheng had spoken of? Qian Jiaoniang had never seen one before, but Fang Xiong gave her no chance to marvel. He shoved her onto a boat. In the thick mist, many boats loomed faintly. Qian Jiaoniang could not see clearly, only knew this one resembled the boat she had come on before—but this was a pleasure barge. She knew such barges were usually used by rich men to entertain courtesans. For there to be such a vessel in a mountain bandit’s den was strange indeed.
Fang Xiong ordered the maid-disguised female bandit to accompany Qian Jiaoniang aboard, while he stayed outside giving instructions.
Qian Jiaoniang and the woman stared wide-eyed at each other, neither speaking.
Qian Jiaoniang’s expression remained outwardly calm, but her scalp prickled with dread.
