Chapter Fifty-Two: The Master's Ruthlessness

Racing toward the village with his men, Zhao Hengyi saw the towering flames and heard the thunderous uproar even before reaching the outskirts. Without a moment to catch their breath, the men—who had pushed themselves for dozens of miles and were nearly bent double from exhaustion—supported one another as they rushed into the village, crossbows at the ready.

The bandits, leaderless and convinced they were walking into a trap, hesitated at first. But when dozens of bolts whistled from behind, felling many in an instant, the remaining thieves dropped their weapons, collapsed to their knees, and begged for their lives in terror and despair.

The villagers, holding torches aloft, erupted in wild cheers. After a night spent on the edge of fear, the hunting party and the village guard had finally returned!

Yet, it was Steward Song—Song San—who appeared most astonished. By his calculations, even if Zhao Hengyi had set out the moment he received news, it would have been dawn at the earliest before he could return from Duanya Mountain with reinforcements. The two servants at Song San’s side exchanged startled glances, silently wondering whether they and their brothers could have made the desperate journey from Duanya Mountain to Yushu Bay in so short a time.

The surprise quickly vanished from Steward Song’s face, replaced by his customary genial smile. He called for the village head to have the surrendered bandits bound, then strode purposefully toward the exhausted, stooping Zhao Hengyi.

“You’re like a heavenly army descending to our rescue, young master! This old servant has truly witnessed a miracle tonight!”

Zhao Hengyi waved away the steward’s supporting hand and collapsed unceremoniously to the ground. After a long bout of coughing, he finally caught his breath and said, “Steward Song, I owe you my thanks tonight.”

Among the clever, words are few. From that single sentence, Song San understood that Zhao Hengyi had already pieced together the events leading up to this moment.

Earlier that afternoon, two men sent by Zhao Hengyi to deliver a message had discovered Liu Shuang’s tracks along with those of the bandits. Realizing Liu Shuang was likely leading them to plunder Yushu Bay, the messengers split up—one returning to Duanya Mountain to report, the other skirting the bandits to warn the village.

With the hunting and guard parties absent, Yushu Bay was left defenseless against the bandits. The village head and elders even considered leading the villagers to hide in the great Qing Mountain ahead of time.

But Song San, waiting in the village for news, refused to agree. Yushu Bay was now Zhao Hengyi’s foundation, and if the bandits found it deserted, their usual cruelty would see them not only loot everything but also burn the village to the ground.

Unlike Xing Xiaorong, Song San knew all too well how hard-won Zhao Hengyi’s foothold here was. If Yushu Bay fell, even if Zhao Hengyi could rebuild from scratch with the villagers, it would cost precious time—time that Song San and, more importantly, his own lord could not afford to lose.

He had spent years quietly building influence in Dangyang County, waiting for the perfect moment to astonish all rivals and secure for his master an unshakeable foundation—a refuge strong enough to weather any storm. Zhao Hengyi’s arrival had presented Song San with a golden opportunity to realize this long-cherished goal.

All the means Song San had patiently prepared were now in play, openly displayed before every interested party. If Zhao Hengyi’s foundation were destroyed, everything Song San had worked for would be wasted—and his careful preparations exposed for nothing.

No matter the cost, Song San had to take the risk.

He did not, however, blindly drag the villagers to their deaths. His observations of Zhao Hengyi had revealed the young master’s fiercely protective nature. Should their stand against the bandits result in heavy casualties, Zhao Hengyi might well grow estranged—or even sever ties altogether.

Thus, before deciding to ambush the bandits, Steward Song questioned the returning messenger, Xiao Shan, to assess the enemy’s fighting strength. In Song San’s judgment, even with the hunting and guard parties away, Yushu Bay was far from defenseless. The village had no shortage of able-bodied men, and, thanks to Zhao Hengyi’s leadership over the past months, these men were well-fed and in far better health than those of most villages.

By Song San’s reckoning, aside from their viciousness and experience with bloodshed, the so-called bandits might not even match the villagers in strength.

With this in mind, Song San had dared to lay an ambush on either side of the main road into the village—and, as events proved, his foresight had been remarkable. Even if Zhao Hengyi had not returned in the nick of time, Song San’s plans alone would have sufficed to defeat the bandits of Erdao Ravine.

In the throng, Zhang Daniu, hammer in hand, grumbled as he led his apprentices in tying up the surrendered bandits.

Originally, Zhang Daniu had planned to make a name for himself tonight. Having seen carnage on the battlefield, he had no fear of bandits—in fact, he rather looked down on them. He had pictured himself charging into their midst, hammer swinging, felling foes with every blow, and winning renown in a single stroke.

But his master proved too capable, returning at the crucial moment with reinforcements and spoiling the dramatic display Song San had planned with him to establish authority through bloodshed.

As a disciple, Zhang Daniu dared not resent his master. Instead, he vented his frustration on the cowering bandits, but after a few kicks and slaps, even that lost its appeal. With his master present, Zhang Daniu resigned himself: from now on, he would stick to his forge—his fate was to be a humble blacksmith.

Having raced for dozens of miles, even those in the hunting and guard parties, accustomed to daily endurance training, were struggling. Especially after just eating dinner, everyone—including Zhao Hengyi, save for the exceptional Wang Erhu—had vomited more than once along the way.

Nevertheless, as the village head and elders prepared to assign guards to watch over the bound bandits, Zhao Hengyi struggled to his feet.

“Don’t lock them up just yet. Da Hu, bring some men and pry open their mouths one by one!”

At Zhao Hengyi’s command, the utterly exhausted Wang Dahu led several veteran guards to drag the bandits into the woods outside the village.

Now a seasoned and capable bodyguard, Wang Dahu understood his master’s intentions well: extract every shred of useful information, and leave none of these bandits alive.

Truly, his master’s ruthlessness was not to be underestimated!