“Creak creak….” The rickety old armchair creaked incessantly, its joints groaning under strain.
Su Yan, now draped in a stinking, tattered robe that had clearly passed through countless hands, raised his head to look at the bandit chief seated before him with a domineering air. He had regained consciousness while being carried to the stronghold but feigned unconsciousness, hanging limply like a sack of grain on the bandit’s shoulder. From that vantage point, he had discreetly taken in the entire bandit camp.
Once inside the room, he was unceremoniously dropped onto the wooden floor. Pain shot through him as he struggled to sit up, only to have a coarse robe thrown over his head.
Wang Six dragged over two chairs and placed them squarely in front of him. He slumped into one, throwing his arms over the chair back, crossing his legs, and lazily shaking his foot as he tilted his head to appraise their new captive. Wang Five, seated beside him, was slightly more composed in posture, but the scar running along his cheekbone added a savage edge to his demeanor.
Truth be told, these bandit brothers had a certain rugged charm. It was a shame they’d taken to such a dishonorable trade. With the situation as it was, Su Yan could only adapt and bide his time, waiting for a chance to escape. Enduring the musty stench, he pulled the robe over himself, sitting cross-legged. The robe was long enough to cover his knees and folded ankles, leaving only one exposed knee visible.
Wang Six muttered, “D*mn, he’s really pale.”
Wang Five barked, “Speak! Who exactly are you? Don’t give us any nonsense about being a poor scholar. We’ve got sharp eyes, so don’t try lying! If you don’t tell the truth, I’ll start chopping off your fingers and toes one by one and toss you out back for the wolves.”
Wang Six added, “Falling into our hands leaves you with one choice—pay to save your hide. Be smart, hand over all your gold and valuables, and write to your family to prepare ransom money. Pay up, and we’ll release you—simple as that.”
Su Yan forced a bitter smile. “Brothers, I’m just a down-and-out scholar with nothing to my name. What gold or silver could I possibly have? There’s only a small, shabby house in the capital, which was vandalized before I left. I even slept on the door planks the night before I set out. I was exiled from the city and have been enduring hardship on the road ever since. Just as I was about to reach my destination, I had the misfortune to run into you two.”
He delivered his lament with such sincerity that Wang Six couldn’t help but mutter again, “D*mn, that’s pitiful.”
Wang Five shot his brother a glare and pressed further, “What crime got you exiled?”
Su Yan sighed and replied, “There was a corrupt old official who tried to force himself on my sister. I cut off one of his arms with a sword. To protect the family, they sent me away.”
Wang Six slapped his thigh. “Good for you! I can’t stand scumbags who abuse their power. If I’d been there, I’d have chopped off both ends!” He turned to Su Yan, looking impressed. “Didn’t think you, a scrawny scholar, had the guts to swing a sword. You’re a real man!”
Su Yan smacked the floor in supposed indignation but immediately regretted it, clutching his throbbing hand behind his back. With righteous fury, he exclaimed, “Once I weather this storm and return to the capital, I’ll do just as you said—chop off both ends of that b*stard! D*mn that filthy old dog, committing every evil under the sun and not even letting people curse him! Just because I insulted him in court, he’s been scheming against me ever since—getting me nearly beaten to death, setting his dogs on me, filing false charges with the authorities… Even the destruction of my home before I left was his doing! He even tried to cut off my nose, but thankfully, I managed to dodge in time…”
He ranted and raged, pouring out his grievances with such passion that Wang Six, swept up in the tale, grew indignant on his behalf. “D*mn it! I thought the provinces were bad, but who’d have guessed that even in the capital, under the emperor’s nose, such shameless scoundrels could run rampant! If it were me, I’d go back right now and hack that b*stard to pieces. Who cares if he’s powerful? At worst, it’d cost me my life! Better to die standing tall than live on my knees. I’ll tell you—”
Wang Five abruptly pushed his chair back, rising to drag his little brother out of the room.
Wang Six, annoyed at being interrupted, snapped, “What’s the deal?”
Wang Five whispered, “You’re letting that little scholar’s sob story get to you!”
“What? No, I’m just saying… He’s pitiful. Maybe we should let him go so he can get his revenge.”
“…If he’s really so poor, how did he end up with such smooth skin and such a refined demeanor?”
“But I thought he—”
Wang Five cut him off. “Don’t tell me you’ve been smitten by his looks. A pampered young master like him—if you want to play, fine, but don’t let his sweet talk fool you. Don’t get played yourself.”
Wang Six bristled. “What are you saying, Brother? Do you think I’m stupid enough to fall for that? Who could—wait, did you just say I could play?”
Wang Five clapped his shoulder. “Seems like you’ve been pent up lately.”
Caught off guard, Wang Six stammered awkwardly, “I just said I hate men who abuse their power. I don’t want to be that kind of scumbag… And we’re righteous bandits, not some lecherous thugs—our reputation matters.”
Wang Five was about to commend him for his principles, but Wang Six’s tone shifted.
“Still, someone like him doesn’t come along often. If it ruins my reputation, so be it. At worst, I’ll sneak him out of the camp—better I take the blame alone.”
Wang Five spat in exasperation. “Save your schemes for outsiders!”
Wang Six chuckled. “I just want something fresh. I’ll soften him up first—if he’s willing, I’ll invite you to join.”
Their plan settled, they re-entered the room, opening the door a crack—only to be met by a flash of lightning-bright steel aimed straight for their throats.
Wang Six let out a loud cry, performing a dramatic backward iron bridge posture, narrowly avoiding the glinting blade that grazed his chin, leaving a bloodstreak behind.
From within the half-opened door, a cold and sharp young voice rang out: “Keep them alive. I have questions to ask.”
—
Wang Five and Wang Six had their shoulder joints dislocated and their wrists tightly bound with hemp ropes. Kneeling before Su Yan, drenched in cold sweat, they dared not move.
As Wang Six attempted to lift his gaze slightly, a sword’s edge pressed against his neck, threatening to slice through if he dared further. Wang Six cursed silently: Where did this demon come from? Sneaking into the camp without any of the brothers noticing! If it weren’t for his ambush, would the great me have been subdued so easily?
It turned out that Jinghong Zhui, skilled in tracking, had followed the trail to the bandits’ lair. Utilizing his ghostlike agility, he slipped in unnoticed and made his way to the room where Su Yan was being held. Coincidentally, the Wang brothers had just stepped out to talk. He entered through the window and found Su Yan huddled on the floor in a filthy cloak. The sight filled him with a murderous rage, his eyes glowing blood-red.
If not for Su Yan’s command to keep the captives alive, he would have slaughtered the bandits and then gone on to massacre the entire camp.
Su Yan dragged over a creaking armchair and sat down, his voice dripping with mockery as he gave them a taste of their own medicine: “Speak. What are your names, your origins? If you don’t tell the truth, I’ll start cutting off your fingers and toes, one by one, and feed them to the wolves on the mountain!”
Jinghong Zhui cooperatively shifted the blade to Wang Six’s hand, gesturing as if deciding which finger to sever first.
Wang Six, knowing it was better to yield than to suffer, spilled the beans: “I’m Wang Six, full name Wang Chen. My brother here is Wang Five, full name Wang Wu. We’re from Qingyang Prefecture in Shaanxi. We lead a gang of a few hundred brothers, infamously known as the Xiangma Bandits. Because the authorities have been relentlessly pursuing us, we’re currently hiding out in the Eagle Beak Mountains.”
“You just said Shaanxi isn’t a livable place. What did you mean by that?”
Before Wang Chen could answer, Wang Five sneered and retorted: “What’s it to you? Aren’t you just a poor scholar fleeing trouble from the capital? Go find another place to lay low and mind your own business!”
“Show some respect to the master!” Jinghong Zhui struck Wang Wu in the chest with the flat of his sword, causing internal injury that made him cough up blood.
Wang Chen cried out, “Brother!” and immediately kowtowed to Su Yan. “We brothers failed to recognize your greatness and offended you. Please don’t kill my older brother. Ask me anything, and I’ll answer honestly!”
Wang Wu, blood still dripping from his mouth, stubbornly sneered: “‘Greatness’? What greatness? If he were some high-ranking official, he’d have arrived in an eight-carrier sedan chair with gongs and guards. What high official bathes naked in a lake by himself?”
Su Yan almost laughed from anger but stopped Jinghong Zhui’s blade as it moved toward his throat. “No need to argue with a brute. Let me finish questioning him first.”
“If you dare speak disrespectfully again to the Lord, I’ll cut out your tongue!” Jinghong Zhui kicked Wang Wu again, sending him coughing up more blood before fainting on the spot.
Wang Chen panicked and glared fiercely at Jinghong Zhui, but with their lives in his hands, he could only swallow his anger.
“Don’t worry. Your brother won’t die, as long as you answer honestly,” Su Yan said. “If I’m not mistaken, before becoming bandits, you two worked as horse herders, didn’t you?”
Wang Chen was taken aback. “How do you know that?”
“Most of the horses in your camp have branding marks from government stables. They’re either from the Yuanma Temple or the horses assigned to households by the Ministry of War. Moreover, despite being a bandit, your brother still carries a certain military air about him. He must’ve served as a soldier before.”
Wang Chen was stunned but admitted, “That’s right. We brothers were indeed herders. My brother also served in the military for a few years.”
Su Yan continued, “Since you were herders and soldiers, why betray your duties, resorting to theft and banditry?”
Wang Chen growled bitterly, “We couldn’t survive. What else could we do but turn to banditry?”
“Why couldn’t you survive?”
“It’s all because of that cursed Household Horse Law! They hand over army horses to us civilians to raise, demanding foals as tribute in exchange for tax reductions. Sounds good, doesn’t it? But in reality…”
“Civilian horse-rearing is meant to alleviate the burden on state stables. The more warhorses the nation has, the stronger our defenses will be against foreign enemies. Isn’t that a good thing?”
Wang Chen spat angrily, “Good thing, my *ss! They make it sound nice! For us herders, five households are assigned one horse, starting from age fifteen to sixty. If a horse dies, we have to pay compensation. A foal costs thirty to forty taels, while an adult horse costs fifty or sixty. Even selling our entire family wouldn’t cover it!
“Even chickens and ducks get diseases, yet you expect horses to never fall sick or die? And on top of that, you want a guarantee that they’ll produce foals? What if they don’t? Are we supposed to give birth to the foals ourselves? And if we’re lucky enough to have one, we have to raise it with extreme care, feeding it better hay and bean cakes than what we eat ourselves. Then, when the collection period comes, we have to travel hundreds of miles to deliver them to the Imperial Stables. By the time we get there, both men and horses are exhausted. But the officials inspecting the horses are impossibly picky. After all their checks, they say the horses don’t meet the standard and send them back the way they came. Not only do we waste two years raising them for nothing, but we also have to pay fines. To pass the inspections, horse breeders are forced to pool their money and bribe the officials, just to be allowed to move on.”
“And while we’re raising horses, our farmland is left unattended. We can’t pay our grain taxes, and the county magistrate gets angry, fighting with the Imperial Stables over manpower. One side urges us to farm, the other to raise horses. But we only have two hands—how can we possibly do both? If this ‘Household Horse Law’ isn’t just a way to torment the common people, then what is it?”
Su Yan fell into deep thought. The civilian horse-rearing policy, first implemented by Taizu Emperor, was meant to reduce the burden on the state’s horse supply. But in reality, it simply shifted that burden onto the common people, adding another layer of hardship on top of land taxes and forced labor.
From the Central Horse Stables to the Imperial Stables, the emperor had established an extensive and redundant network of horse management institutions. The cost of running these agencies had skyrocketed—officials needed food, drink, salaries, and on top of that, they were corrupt and extorted money. No wonder the people were suffering.
The emperor had intended for horses to offset taxation, a plan that sounded good in theory but was difficult to implement. In practice, it only worsened social tensions, pushing desperate civilians to revolt. Even Journey to the West hinted at this—when the Monkey King rebelled against Heaven after being assigned the lowly job of managing the Heavenly Stables, wasn’t that a veiled criticism of this very policy?
Su Yan sighed. “‘The Household Horse Law’ is indeed a heavy burden on the people. If the state-run horse farms could sustain themselves, then there’d be no need to force civilians to raise horses. Speaking of which, the region near the Hetao area in Shaanxi has vast grasslands perfect for horse breeding. In theory, the Central Horse Stables and the border troops’ own horses should be enough to meet demand. So why did your brother, as a military horse keeper, choose to desert?”
Wang Chen replied bitterly, “He didn’t want to desert! But the situation for military horse keepers isn’t much better than for civilian breeders! I heard that many of the government horses in the stables are secretly sold off, and large portions of the grazing land have been taken over by powerful families. The officials in charge are all corrupt. The horses are left neglected—sickly, weak, and half-starved—so the soldiers have to raise their own private horses and sell them back to the government for a profit. My brother worked hard to take care of his assigned horses, but one night, they were suddenly poisoned. He knew that if he stayed, he’d be the one to take the fall and lose his head. With no other choice, he ran and ended up here, living as an outlaw alongside us.”
“Even the border troops are involved—this horse administration in Shaanxi is utterly rotten to the core…” Su Yan furrowed his brows, realizing that the new position he had taken on was not just a hot potato but a massive mess. The intricate web of vested interests behind it would undoubtedly make it a thorny issue to handle.
Wang Wu, lying on the floor, coughed up some bloody froth as he gradually regained consciousness. Gasping for breath, he asked, “Are you really an official? What brings you to Shaanxi?”
Su Yan rose and stepped closer. Wang Wu’s gaze fell on a pair of bare feet—delicate and exquisite as if carved from white jade. Even dust clinging to the soles did not mar their elegance, embodying a natural beauty akin to spring breezes and autumn moons. He instinctively held his breath, suppressing a cough, lest he soil them with blood.
“I am a Imperial Censor and Inspector appointed by the Emperor himself, here to oversee and rectify local governance, reform administrative practices, and restore order to the horse administration, bringing peace and clarity back to Shaanxi.”
The young official’s voice was not booming, yet it was clear and resolute. “I intend to help you, brave men forced into rebellion, lay down your arms and return to your fields. Officials shall fulfill their duties, and the people shall live in peace.”
The Wang brothers were stunned. Wang Wu murmured, “An Imperial Censor… an Imperial Envoy… an emissary from the heavens?”
“That’s not inaccurate,” Su Yan said with a faint smile. “Do you really want to live your whole lives as bandits, constantly fleeing from the authorities?”
Wang Chen exclaimed, “If we could live in peace, who would choose this blood-soaked path? Robbing the rich to help the poor is just a way to ease our conscience. When hunger drives us mad, we’ll rob anyone—good or bad. We’re already outlaws. When pushed, there’s nothing we wouldn’t do.”
Jinghong Zhui’s sword point wavered slightly as he looked at Su Yan, his gaze softening with a mix of gratitude and deeper emotion. If not for encountering Su Yan, what difference was there between him and these bandits? He too would be nothing but a lone fugitive. Su Yan not only saved his life but also gave him a new vision for the future—a chance to start anew.
Su Yan sighed and placed his hand on Wang Chen’s shoulder.
Wang Chen shuddered as if burned, instinctively raising his head to look at him.
Su Yan said, “When the world is at peace, disband your group and return home to live as good citizens. How about that?”
A surge of fervor rose in Wang Chen’s chest. He exclaimed, “Untie my wrists!”
Su Yan nodded at Jinghong Zhui, who sliced the ropes with a flick of his sword and roughly reset the brothers’ dislocated shoulders.
“If that day truly comes, I’ll quit being a bandit and a mountain king, return home, and live an honest life,” Wang Chen said, rotating his shoulder with a grimace. Supporting Wang Wu, he raised his calloused hand to Su Yan. “A handshake to seal the promise!”
Jinghong Zhui reflexively reached for his sword, but Su Yan stopped him with a glance. Su Yan extended his hand and struck Wang Chen’s rough palm three times. “A promise must not be broken.”
Wang Chen laughed heartily. “Good!” He turned to Wang Wu. “What do you say, brother?”
Wang Wu replied, “We brothers are of one mind. Whatever you say goes.”
At that moment, someone shouted from outside the room, “Boss! Second boss! Are you inside?”
“We are. What’s wrong?”
“Brother Yang’s leading over two hundred of our men in a fight against a tough group in the mountain pass! There are only twenty of them, but they’re formidable. We’ve already lost seventy or eighty brothers. Brother Yang sent me to fetch you!”
Su Yan froze. “Those are my guards!”
“Ah, heavens,” Wang Chen shouted to the man outside. “Go tell Brother Yang to stop immediately—it’s a misunderstanding! His Lordship is a guest here in the stronghold!”
Su Yan said, “If I don’t go myself, they won’t stop. Hurry and take me there to explain.”
Wang Chen let out an “Eh” and was about to open the door.
Su Yan hurriedly said, “Wait! My clothes! I can’t go out like this!”
Wang Chen paused. “Like this… looks pretty good too…”
Jinghong Zhui’s face was filled with murderous intent, as if he were about to cut someone’s tongue off. Su Yan quickly said, “Find me a fresh set of clothes—something no one has worn before.”
—
Night fell, and large fire basins were lit all around the stronghold. In the plaza before the main hall, the horse bandits pushed square tables together to form a long banquet, drinking and feasting alongside the casually dressed Embroidered Guards and Imperial Cavalry. Since ancient times, soldiers and bandits had never been too different—after a few bowls of strong liquor, they became sworn drinking buddies, playing drinking games, gambling, shouting and laughing, their revelry erupting into bursts of loud laughter.
Wang Wu, having suffered internal injuries, had taken the medicine given by Jinghong Zhui and was looking better, but he still couldn’t drink. Frustrated, he could only sip tea.
Wang Chen filled a large bowl with alcohol and presented it with both hands. “A toast to Lord Censor!”
Su Yan downed the bowl in one go. Seeing Wang Chen pour another, he waved his hand and smiled. “That’s all I can handle. Let’s not overdo it, let’s not overdo it.”
Wang Chen held the brimming alcohol bowl, staring in a daze at the fire-lit face of the imperial official. Only when the alcohol spilled onto his foot did he snap out of it. He quickly tilted his head back and downed the whole bowl in one gulp. Awkwardly, he said, “My brother and I owe you an apology, my lord. We spoke rudely and even carried you off like a sack…”
Su Yan let out a dry laugh. “Let’s not bring up embarrassing things—if we do, it’ll just make everyone feel awkward. Besides, you two didn’t actually do anything to me. Let’s just leave it at that.”
Wang Chen thought to himself: If your guard had been a moment later, something definitely would have happened. But he wouldn’t dare say that out loud. To cover up the turmoil in his heart, he downed three more bowls in succession, determined to drink himself into oblivion. When he woke up, he’d cut off these foolish thoughts once and for all.
Su Yan, now feeling lightheaded, stumbled off and, after a round of vomiting, quietly asked Jinghong Zhui, “Is there any fish soup?”
A glimmer of amusement flashed in Jinghong Zhui’s eyes. “Yes. Just as you requested—simmered in a clay pot for an hour until it turns thick and milky white, strained to remove the bones and meat, then finished with a touch of sizzling oil and ginger slices, seasoned only with fine salt and scallions, nothing else.”
Just hearing the description made Su Yan’s mouth water. He licked his lips unconsciously and said, “Pour me a bowl while it’s hot.”
That fleeting flash of his pink, glistening tongue left a thin layer of moisture on his lips, making them shine temptingly. The former assassin-turned-bodyguard, with his sharp eyesight, noticed it all too clearly. His ears burned, and a heat spread from deep within his body. He forced down the strange sensation and replied, his voice slightly hoarse, “Yes, my lord.”
