A chill shot up from Zhao Feng's tailbone, and his scalp prickled. In the nick of time, he rolled across the ground to the foot of a wall. Fortunately, the man in black had only been slashing wildly. He did not stop, but fled in a panic.
Five or six burly men in blue then charged out of the alley, also wielding steel sabers, slashing without restraint as they drove the crowd away.
The two groups gradually disappeared into the distance. Before long, another burst of clashing blades and screams rang out from afar, and then silence finally returned.
Zhao Feng crouched at the foot of the wall, cold sweat covering his forehead. Thank goodness he had dodged quickly, or he would have suffered a calamity out of nowhere.
"When will this fighting between the Black Tiger Gang and the Three Harmonies Gang ever end?"
"Exactly. They fight over territory every day."
"What difference does it make which gang it is? All they do is make us common folk suffer."
The passersby were long used to such sights. They shook their heads and sighed.
The Black Tiger Gang? Zhao Feng thought. Wasn't Huang Biao claiming he had joined them?
Only after collecting himself did he go to the market and start selling his goods. It took until the afternoon to sell the large chunks of roe deer meat, the intact deer hide, the rabbit pelts, and the deer antlers for a total of roughly two taels of silver-a considerable sum.
The main reason was that the intact pair of buck antlers could be used as medicinal ingredients and was worth quite a bit. A buyer from a medical clinic purchased them. Otherwise, he could never have made that much.
That brought the silver he carried to more than four taels. The market was about to close when Zhao Feng spotted a roast chicken seller offering a discount. He spent forty copper coins on a chicken, had it wrapped in oiled paper, and tucked it inside his robe.
At the county town's gate, Old Ding and the others were already waiting. Once Zhao Feng arrived, Old Ding hitched up the cart, and they set off for the village.
"Feng, I asked around for you. Three months' tuition at the Huo Family Martial Arts School costs ten taels of silver, and they even include a meal," Old Ding said.
"But let me warn you: learning martial arts isn't like learning a trade. That money is water poured out on the ground. Even if you fail to learn anything, you won't get it back."
"That sounds great!" Zhao Feng brightened.
A meal included for ten taels of silver was just what Zhao Feng wanted. As for whether he could master anything, there was no need to worry. So long as he could get in and learn a martial cultivation method, he was certain to achieve something with the panel's help.
Sitting on Old Ding's swaying donkey cart, Zhao Feng reflected on everything that had happened in the county town. He thought of how a Black Tiger Gang member's casual slash had nearly killed him, and of Huang Biao's lurking threat.
This world runs entirely by the law of the jungle. Human lives are worth no more than weeds! I mean no harm, but others mean to harm me! Even if I do nothing, being weak makes me a piece of fish on someone else's chopping board. In that case, I might as well strike first. Zhao Feng quietly made up his mind.
By the time he reached home, the sun was setting.
"Second Uncle!" Zhao Bao'er and Zhao Zihuai had been waiting at the doorway for ages. The moment they saw him return, they rushed out to greet him, two pairs of bright black eyes fixed expectantly on the front of his robe.
Before leaving that morning, their second uncle had promised to bring them something tasty.
"You two little gluttons. Getting impatient, were you?" Zhao Feng gave both little boys' noses a firm swipe with his finger.
He took out the oiled-paper parcel from inside his robe. Before he even opened it, its enticing aroma had both boys drooling.
Zhao Feng unfolded the oiled paper. "Roast chicken!"
"Second Uncle brought home roast chicken!" the two boys cried excitedly, reaching out to snatch it.
"Don't grab. One drumstick each." Zhao Feng handed them a drumstick apiece, and the two boys retreated to one side to wolf them down.
"Hey, don't choke!" Zhao Feng said with a smile. He saw his parents and sister-in-law coming out to greet him.
"Why did you buy roast chicken? You shouldn't spoil them so much," Tian Cuihua chided her brother-in-law, though inwardly she was delighted.
Zhao Feng had been genuinely kind to her two children lately, always giving the boys first claim on the meat. Her opinion of him had improved considerably, and she no longer resented him for stealing her hairpin.
"Sister-in-law, I couldn't redeem your hairpin this time. Once I have the money, I'll definitely get it back," Zhao Feng said.
That evening, everyone shared the little meat remaining on the roast chicken. They cooked the leftover roe deer offal into porridge and enjoyed a hearty meal.
Though none of his family said anything, their eyes held hope and a faint warmth.
Zhao Feng lowered his head and ate, mouthful by mouthful. A sharp glint flashed in his eyes. Some matters needed to be settled.
It was late December. The sky was dark, and a bitter north wind blew, heralding a heavy snowfall.
That night, in a house in Little West Village, Greenhouse Township, the cold wind howled outside while a stove blazed indoors. Some cheap yellow rice wine was warming on top of it.
Meat, wine, and thick flatbreads lay scattered across the table. Six burly men sat around it, eating and drinking heartily. Their leader was Huang Biao.
The New Year was drawing ever closer. As the leader of a band of thugs who specialized in collecting debts for others, Huang Biao was actually living better than ever in this year of calamity. Yet how many poor people's blood and tears had nourished his comfortable life?
"Boss, when are we going to the Black Tiger Gang's headquarters in the county town? Haven't we already joined them?" one of the men asked.
"After the New Year. Once we've paid our respects at the incense hall and formally joined, not just Greenhouse Township but the whole town will be ours." Huang Biao was smug. Lately, he had been borrowing the Black Tiger Gang's might like a fox borrowing a tiger's terror, committing every kind of wrongdoing throughout the township. He had already become the undisputed leader of Greenhouse Township's thugs. Once he formally joined the Black Tiger Gang, he would have a proper backer. How could the thugs from the other townships compete with him then?
They had already frightened and tricked plenty of peasants into borrowing Master Li's money, then collected hefty commissions by violently enforcing the debts. But it still was not enough! Thinking of Zhao Feng's family, he narrowed his eyes.
Damn it! That useless Zhao brat has grown a spine. He actually refused to take the bait! He's even learned to play mad and act stupid. Looks like he needs to be taught a lesson. Remembering Wang Jinlian's tearful complaints, Huang Biao bared his teeth.
In a couple of days, I'll find a chance to club him from behind and show his family what's what. If they still refuse, I'll break one of his hands. His father dotes on that son most of all. When I come calling then, he'll have no choice but to do as he's told. Huang Biao schemed inwardly, a trace of cruelty crossing his face.
He needed to hurry and squeeze more grease out of those peasants. Once he joined the gang after the New Year, money in his pocket would give him that much more confidence.
Once everyone had eaten and drunk their fill, they dispersed.
Huang Biao put on his felt hat and, belching drunkenly, headed toward nearby Cypress Village to visit his lover, Widow Hu.
By then, snowflakes as large as goose feathers were falling from the night sky. Heaven and earth slowly began to turn white.
In the woods beside the only dirt road leading to Cypress Village, Zhao Feng crouched in silent wait. In the darkness, he resembled a heap of dead leaves, utterly motionless as the heavy snow gradually covered his entire body.
Before long, a staggering figure appeared on the distant dirt road. It was Huang Biao. He stumbled along, nearly falling several times.
Here's my chance! Zhao Feng quietly exhaled a stale breath.
For the past several nights, he had waited outside Huang Biao's hideout, watching in secret. Huang Biao's parents had died long ago. Ordinarily, he spent all his time carousing with his underlings and lived with them, but sometimes he stayed overnight at his lover's home in neighboring Cypress Village.
Tonight, it seemed he was visiting his lover again, alone and heavily drunk. There were no other travelers on the road at this hour, either. It was nothing short of a heaven-sent opportunity.
Zhao Feng quietly took down the arrow he had spent several days sharpening from his back. With a deadly weapon in hand, the urge to kill surged forth!
A hundred paces!
Ninety paces!
Eighty paces!
*...*
He counted silently. At thirty paces, given the man's slow, drunken gait, his arrow was practically guaranteed to hit! But he wanted him closer still, to ensure a single shot would kill him without a sound!
The target drew ever closer. Hidden in the little grove, Zhao Feng could already hear his increasingly close, heavy breathing.
Huang Biao's drunken profile grew clearer and clearer.
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