Competition Is Everywhere

With the old man's departure, the atmosphere grew exceptionally heavy.

A middle-aged man called out, "Lord Xisi, wait."

A mocking, affected voice rang out. "Stop calling. He's a noble; he's not like us. Don't block his road to wealth and glory."

As if afraid the old man would not hear him, he deliberately raised his voice.

The middle-aged man rebuked him, "Feike'er, shut your mouth! Lord Xisi isn't that kind of person.

"When the Russians were rounding up the guerrillas some time ago, it was Lord Xisi who stepped in and settled it. Otherwise, we would have been in terrible trouble."

"That's right. Lord Xisi is a good man. When my son fell ill a year ago, he was the one who helped us find a doctor."

"Feike'er, I remember your hands and feet weren't clean, and Lord Xisi taught you a lesson for it. You're..."

It was clear that old Xisi enjoyed considerable prestige in the town. The young man Feike'er was quickly drowned out by a chorus of condemnation.

Under normal circumstances, Feike'er would never have dared show hostility toward a noble, or people would die.

This changed with the Russians' arrival. Since they stood on opposing sides in the war, the local nobility became prime targets of the Tsarist Government's suppression.

Feike'er sneered. "Still calling him Lord Xisi? He's just a dog bereft of his home now. He can't even hold on to his own family estate, yet he still has the nerve to call himself a noble.

"The Russians took his land, and now he wants us to give up our land too. Why should we?"

Seeing the murderous looks in everyone's eyes, much of Feike'er's arrogance was doused. Perhaps unwilling to lose face, he still spoke stubbornly:

"Don't look at me like that. I'm