The Bandit Menace

The smile froze on Daoist Xuanli's face.

He looked at Chen Fan as though he were a stranger.

"My nephew, what... what nonsense are you talking about?"

"The Martial Dao is like a boat sailing against the current: if you don't advance, you fall back. How can you..."

Chen Fan waved a hand, cutting him off.

"Martial Uncle Liu, I'm not cut out for it."

His voice was calm, without a trace of self-mockery or dejection.

"I know better than anyone what sort of shape this body is in. If I force myself to keep training, I'll only be asking for trouble."

"My father sent me up the mountain to temper my character, not to risk my life."

Daoist Xuanli opened his mouth, intending to persuade him further.

But when he met Chen Fan's calm eyes, all his words caught in his throat.

What sort of look was that?

It wasn't the defiance of a spoiled young master, nor was it the resignation of a good-for-nothing. It was a calm that... had seen through everything.

Daoist Xuanli's resolve drained away.

What else could he say?

This young master had come for "quiet cultivation," not to take a master and learn his arts.

If he wanted to train, Xuanli would indulge him.

If he didn't, could Xuanli really force him?

If this young master became unhappy and went back to say a few bad words before the county magistrate, Xuanli couldn't afford the consequences.

"Sigh, since your mind is made up, my nephew, then... then have it your way."

Daoist Xuanli sighed and set out the pastries from the food box on the table, one by one.

"It's just that your daily lessons..."

"Don't worry." Chen Fan picked up a lotus pastry. "I'll still go through the motions. I won't make things difficult for you, Martial Uncle."

Daoist Xuanli was completely speechless.

Eldest Young Master Zhao had arranged everything perfectly.

It wasn't that he didn't understand. He simply didn't want to.

"Then... rest for now, my nephew. Your master won't disturb you."

Daoist Xuanli bowed and withdrew from the courtyard.

Chen Fan took his time eating the pastries.

They were sweet without being cloying, melting in his mouth.

Now this was living.

In his last life as a woodcarver, let alone lotus pastries, even having a piece of malt candy had been a treat fit for a festival.

Having become Zhao Long, he was a Martial Dao good-for-nothing, but he possessed a fortune as vast as the heavens.

With the Substitute Death Reincarnation System as his safety net, why should he put himself through the misery of training?

If he suffered Qi Deviation while training and trained himself to death, that would really be a miserable way to go.

He had no idea whether he could reincarnate if he trained himself to death.

If someone happened to beat him to death one day, he could take the opportunity to assume a new identity and experience a new life.

Countless sights awaited him ahead.

Why hang himself from this one crooked tree?

Having thought it through, Chen Fan relaxed completely.

He finished his pastries and clapped his hands.

Then he spotted an orange cat in the corner by the wall.

The cat was plump and lazily basking in the sun. When it saw Chen Fan looking its way, it pricked up its ears warily.

Chen Fan smiled.

He returned to the room, broke off a small piece of dried fish from the food box Xuanli had brought, and went to the corner, where he gently set it down.

The orange cat looked at him hesitantly, then at the dried fish on the ground.

In the end, it couldn't resist the temptation. It approached cautiously, picked up the fish in its mouth, and darted away.

Chen Fan didn't mind.

He returned to the courtyard, leaned back against a stone stool, closed his eyes, and began to enjoy this rare leisure.

From then on, a curious sight appeared at Azure Yang Temple.

Eldest Young Master Zhao, who had once carried the Scripture Repository's books away as firewood, had become an entirely different person.

He no longer practiced his fists like a madman or tormented the outer disciples.

Every day, he slept until the sun was high in the sky.

After getting up, he would feed the cat, read, drink tea, and space out in the courtyard.

Occasionally, when Mingfeng, Mingzheng, or the others "happened" to pass by, he would perform a soft, feeble set of "Stone-Shattering Fist" moves, treating it as a chance to stretch his limbs and give Xuanli an account of his progress.

Xuanli came to see him several times. Each time, he would hesitate as though he wanted to speak, only to let out a long sigh and leave him be.

In any case, as long as this god of pestilence stayed out of trouble and behaved himself until it was time to descend the mountain, that would be a meritorious deed in itself.

Mingfeng and Mingzheng, the two young Daoists who had been scared out of their wits, gradually set their minds at ease as well.

Aside from the tremendous show of force Young Master Zhao had given them on the first day, he turned out to be surprisingly easy to serve.

He neither hit nor scolded them, and he made no unreasonable demands.

As long as the meals they brought him each day were delicate and tasty, he never found fault with them.

They even felt that this young master seemed easier to get along with than the inner sect senior brothers at the temple, who looked down their noses at everyone.

Of course, that was provided you didn't provoke him.

A month slipped quietly by in this leisurely, even decadent, fashion.

The lines of Chen Fan's muscles grew rounded again.

His sun-darkened face also regained the fair complexion a wealthy young master ought to have.

He looked as though he had once again become Eldest Young Master Zhao, gold and jade on the outside, rotten cotton within.

Only when he occasionally played with the orange cat, which had grown familiar with him, would a trace of composure beyond his years show on his calm face.

On this day, the time came to descend the mountain.

Daoist Xuanli led a group of disciples to see Chen Fan off at the mountain gate.

"My nephew, now that you are leaving the mountain, I hope you will conduct yourself well and not disappoint the county magistrate's painstaking efforts again."

Daoist Xuanli spoke earnestly, like an elder who truly cared for his junior.

"Thank you for your guidance, Martial Uncle."

Chen Fan cupped his hands, polite but not familiar.

He turned and walked down the stone steps without looking back.

Zhang San and Li Si were already waiting at the foot of the mountain. When they saw their young master, they hurried over to greet him.

"Young Master!"

Chen Fan nodded and climbed into the spacious carriage.

The carriage slowly set off toward Qinghe County's seat.

Daoist Xuanli stood before the mountain gate, watching the carriage disappear into the distance, and let out a long breath.

At last, he had seen this mighty god off.

The carriage traveled along the mountain road, jolting somewhat.

Chen Fan leaned against a soft cushion and lifted a corner of the curtain, watching the scenery race past outside.

The month on the mountain had been like an unreal dream.

Now the dream was over.

He had returned to the world that belonged to "Zhao Long."

He wondered whether that woman, Lin Wan'er, had been doing any better since he left.

And there were Liu Ruyan and Su Qingyu, too.

At the thought of those three warm bodies, a trace of heat stirred within Chen Fan.

Food and sex were human nature.

A life spent lying flat naturally couldn't do without such embellishments.

The carriage left the mountain road and reached the official road, where the ride grew much smoother.

Just as Chen Fan was drifting off, the carriage suddenly came to an abrupt halt.

"What happened?"

Chen Fan frowned.

"Young Master, up ahead... something seems to have happened up ahead."

The driver's voice carried a trace of tension.

Chen Fan pushed open the carriage door and climbed down.

A dozen or so people were sitting or lying in disarray across the official road ahead.

Their clothes were in tatters, and every one of them was injured, their faces full of fear and despair.

Several battered handcarts had overturned, spilling goods across the ground, mostly bolts of cloth and sundries.

It looked like a merchant caravan that had just been robbed.

Zhang San and Li Si immediately drew the sabers at their waists and stood guard in front of Chen Fan.

"Who goes there?" Zhang San shouted sternly.

The group jumped in fright. Seeing the way Chen Fan and his companions were dressed and the bearing they carried, a middle-aged man who appeared to be their leader scrambled over.

"Spare us, sir! Please spare us!"

He knelt on the ground and knocked his head repeatedly.

"We're just peddlers passing through. We don't have a single copper coin left!"

"We're not bandits," Chen Fan said calmly. "What happened to you?"

The middle-aged man froze, then raised his head and got a clear look at Chen Fan's face.

He seemed to recognize something. A trace of fear flashed across his face, but more than that was the wild joy of someone clutching at a life-saving straw.

"You... you're Young Master Zhao?"

Chen Fan neither admitted nor denied it.

The middle-aged man took his silence as confirmation and cried, "Young Master Zhao! Please stand up for us!"

"We bought some cloth in the prefectural city and hoped to make a living in Qinghe County. Who could have known... who could have known we'd run into a gang of damned bandits at Black Wind Mountain up ahead!"

"They took all our goods and cut down several of our men!"

"Black Wind Mountain?" Chen Fan repeated the name.

"Yes!" The middle-aged man was sobbing too hard to speak clearly. "It's that gang from Black Wind Mountain! They've been getting more and more rampant lately. Travelers like us have no way to survive!"

Chen Fan made a note of the name.

Black Wind Mountain.

Bandits.

He asked no further questions and turned back to the carriage.

"Let's go."

His voice was utterly level.

Zhang San and Li Si froze.

He was just leaving?

The merchants froze too, the hope in their eyes turning to despair in an instant.

Unwilling to give up, the middle-aged man scrambled to his feet and chased after the carriage, shouting, "Young Master Zhao! Your father is the county magistrate! You can't just watch us die without helping!"

The carriage didn't stop.

Its wheels rolled over the official road, kicking up a cloud of dust as it left the cries and pleas far behind.

Inside the carriage.

Zhang San couldn't help speaking up. "Young Master, are we really just going to..."

"What else?" Chen Fan leaned against the cushion and closed his eyes. "Should I go wipe out the bandits, or hand those people money?"

What a joke. With his current strength, would he be going there to die?

He hadn't even spent proper time with his three wives yet. He couldn't die so easily.

Zhang San was left speechless.

That was right. What sort of person was their young master?

The fact that he hadn't bullied those people in the street meant he was in a good mood today.

How could he possibly meddle in something like this?

Silence fell over the carriage once more.

Only the rumble of the rolling wheels could be heard.

The carriage continued onward.