Rest

The men exchanged glances, then rose one after another, cupped their fists and withdrew from the hall, leaving only two guards outside the entrance.

The hall fell quiet at once. The only sounds were the occasional crackle of firewood burning in the hearth and the faint noise of Qing He Miao idly turning his coarse earthenware tea bowl.

The taste was too strange. He really didn't want to drink any more.

Seeing this, Huang Wulang set down his own bowl and took the initiative to change the subject:

"May I ask where your immortal home is, Daoist? And which venerable Daoist master taught you? How should I address you?"

Everything about the youth before him, from his speech and conduct to his bearing, gave him an inscrutable impression.

Now he finally understood Huang Liu's report a little better.

He really couldn't make sense of him.

He seemed like everything, yet nothing at all.

Qing He Miao's expression remained unchanged as he gave the explanation he had long since prepared:

"My master's Daoist name is Waigua (Cheat). I have cultivated under him since childhood. My Daoist name is also my real name; you may call me 'Qing Miao,' Fort Master Huang. As for you, Fort Master Huang, they call you 'Wulang.' Are you the fifth in your family?"

Huang Wulang paused, wondering, Could this youth not even know that custom?

But he quickly hid his surprise and explained with a smile:

"You misunderstand, Daoist. 'Wulang' isn't my place among my siblings, but my rank among the men of my generation in the clan. Though I am no great talent, I have some ability among my brothers of the same generation. The clan elders favored me and put me in charge of the fort's affairs for the time being. You can simply call me 'Huang Wulang,' Daoist."

Well, after all that, neither of them knew the other's full name.

"All right, Huang Wulang."

Qing He Miao readily agreed. Dispensing with further pleasantries, he got straight to the point:

"Fort Master Huang, do you know of the bandits at Mount Luba to the northwest?"

At the mention of Qing He Miao, Huang Wulang's gaze sharpened.

He had already heard about yesterday's events from Huang Liu and had anticipated this.

He just didn't yet know what Qing He Miao wanted right now.

"Those men at Mount Luba... They were defeated soldiers who fled from Lord Liu's side when the King of Jin's army attacked Youzhou a couple of years ago. To begin with, there were about thirty hardened soldiers. Over the years, they've occupied Mount Luba and coerced or gathered a good number of desperadoes and refugees who could no longer make a living. By now, I fear they have nearly a hundred men."

He pondered for a moment, sighed, and gathered his words:

"They have a dozen or so suits of armor alone, and even standard military bows and crossbows! With those, they've run rampant for a hundred li around, raiding homes, kidnapping people for ransom, and stopping at no evil.

"Even our Huang Family Fort has been harassed by them and lost men. Now we can barely protect ourselves by relying on our fortified stronghold."

His voice carried helplessness and resentment; it sounded as though they had caused him no shortage of trouble.

What the hell? Nearly a hundred men?

And armor, bows and crossbows?!

Those numbers and their equipment left Qing He Miao secretly flabbergasted.

They seemed to be "a little" different from the minor mobs he had imagined at the first stop in his "newbie dungeon."

He had originally thought fifty or sixty men would be the absolute limit.

In truth, Qing He Miao's understanding of this period was somewhat off.

It also had to do with where the bandits came from.

After Zhu Wen usurped the Tang and formally ended the dynasty's 289-year reign, the whole world hadn't simply refreshed like a game receiving a version update.

Whether in terms of personnel, equipment, institutions, or grudges, the so-called "bandits," "local tyrants," and "warlords" currently active across the land of China in this age—

Most were still remnants of the old Tang era.

Their backbone and origins were inextricably linked to the Great Tang Empire, which had yet to die out completely.

And what was the Tang dynasty?

It was a dynasty whose capital had fallen six times and whose emperors had been driven off nine times, yet had fought its way the hell back each time.

One of its main sources of fighting strength was the military governors brought about by a special system.

It could be said that Xiao He brought its success, and Xiao He brought its downfall.

Now the Tang had fallen, and the emperor had been replaced by King Liang, Zhu Wen.

But the military governors who ruled their own territories were still the same governors, and the soldiers were still the same soldiers.

Besides, this was also a wuxia world.

In such an already fierce environment, not just anyone could become a bandit. Many of them were no ordinary people.

Of course, this also indirectly showed that a semi-military armed force like the Huang Family Fort was probably no simple outfit either.

This time, he might have made the right choice.

"Then, Fort Master Huang."

Qing He Miao fixed Huang Wulang with a burning gaze:

"Have you ever considered taking down that nest of bandits and putting an end to the threat once and for all?"

At this, a sharp light flashed in Huang Wulang's eyes. He leaned forward slightly and asked in a mysterious tone, with a hint of expectation:

"Could it be... you can summon an army, Daoist? Which general's troops might you be able to call upon for help?"

If there really was outside help to be had, he would naturally welcome it.

Chapter 47: Rest

But Qing He Miao shook his head:

"Just me."

"J-just you alone, Daoist?"

Huang Wulang's enthusiasm immediately dwindled by more than half. Looking troubled, he said:

"Daoist, it isn't that I'm afraid or unwilling to rid the countryside of this scourge. It's just that we mountain folk can only farm a few mu of poor land and hunt in the mountains, barely scraping by and protecting ourselves.

"Your powers are vast, Daoist, and I admire you, but this truly is beyond our abilities. Please don't joke about it."

"I'm not joking, Fort Master Huang."

Qing He Miao's smile remained unchanged. If anything, he looked more confident as he explained his idea:

"What do you think would happen if I had a way to sneak in and kill most of their leaders and key men without anyone being the wiser, leaving the dragons without a head?"

Qing He Miao's attitude and the substance of his words made Huang Wulang hesitate.

He carefully studied the young Daoist before him once more, then asked, weighing his words:

"Their chief, 'Mount Luba,' has reached the Middle Star Position. Though he's a little weaker than me, several of his lieutenants are no pushovers either, and most come from the military. Once they work together, ordinary martial artists are no match for them.

"Even if you truly have means that reach the heavens and can eliminate their leaders, they still have a hundred or so desperadoes. They hold the advantage of the terrain, and their camp has been built up into a sturdy stronghold. With only the men in our fort, I'm afraid we would still have to pay a price to take it by force."

Most importantly, there was something he still couldn't understand.

Even if they really could win easily, what would they gain, and what would Qing He Miao gain?

Qing He Miao himself had said earlier that these were still troubled times.

In times like these, every able-bodied young man in the clan was precious. Suppressing bandits was a losing venture.

Unless victory was assured and the gains were enormous.

"What if we could win easily, without you having to launch a frontal assault?"

Qing He Miao sneered:

"A mere Middle Star Position and a hundred-odd men—I have my own means of dealing with most of them. I only need you to send some reliable men to attack amid the chaos after I've succeeded. Their main tasks would be intercepting the fleeing bandits, guarding the prisoners, and carrying off the spoils.

"When the time comes, I won't take any of the armor or equipment in the stronghold. We can also discuss how to divide the money, grain, and valuables we seize. I have only one condition: you must listen to my opinion on how to handle the prisoners. Even with a bargain falling into your lap, you still won't take it?"

"This..."

It was rather like a meat pie falling from the sky, and Huang Wulang was somewhat dazed by the impact.

Armor, bows, and crossbows! You could never have too many!

But he was no reckless brute. Forcing down the stirrings in his heart, he asked in a low voice:

"How confident are you, Daoist? And why are you helping us like this? I truly don't understand."

If he didn't get a clear answer, he really couldn't put his mind at ease.

"I'm naturally ninety-eight percent certain. It'll be as easy as reaching into a bag for something. Otherwise, why would I take on all the crucial tasks and risk my own life? Just to play a joke on you?"

As soon as he said this, Qing He Miao knew Huang Wulang was tempted and was merely weighing the risks and details.

He relaxed, then added fuel to the fire, advancing by retreating as he waved his sleeve:

"If you're unwilling to take part, Fort Master Huang, that's fine too. At worst, I'll take my own men and do it. I was only worried that the men I brought lack experience, so some mistakes would be hard to avoid.

"I only ask that Fort Master Huang doesn't grow envious when the time comes and damage the harmony between our two families. As for why I'm doing this..."

At this, Qing He Miao instead breathed a sigh of relief and said casually:

"It's simple. I was born with an obsession for cleanliness, and I dislike having others covet what's mine. Since Mount Luba sent scouts, he has already set his sights on it. Rather than wait for them to come knocking, I might as well pay them a visit first. That's all."

Hearing this, Huang Wulang's brows shot up.

This Daoist was so young and had a bodhisattva's heart, yet he was so overbearing.

Speaking practically, a bargain "falling into their lap" was a different matter altogether.

What Qing He Miao had just said really had won Huang Wulang over completely.

He rapidly weighed the matter in his mind.

The clan would hardly need to risk casualties in assaulting the stronghold; this mysterious Daoist would deal with their main fighting force.

One mountain could not contain two tigers. Having such a group within a few hundred li was also a threat to them.

And now they only needed to send men to handle the fringes before collecting the spoils...

It was such a windfall that he wouldn't have dared dream of it!

Even if the plan failed, he could turn around and leave with limited losses. At worst, he could return and continue to defend the stronghold.

As for the excuse Qing He Miao gave, did Huang Wulang believe it?

For the most part, he did.

During the Five Dynasties and Ten Kingdoms, there was no shortage of bizarre decisions.

By comparison, Qing He Miao's reason couldn't have been more normal.

At most, he needed to stay a little more alert in case this was a scheme to lure the tiger away from the mountain.

"Daoist, you don't know how it is! Life in these mountains is truly hard! The land is poor and the weather cold. We don't produce much grain to begin with, and after a whole year, we can barely save any surplus.