Graves Beyond the Mountains

Before dawn, Wu Yongchao heard someone knocking at his door. He opened it and looked outside—standing before him was a lovely young woman. In the dead of night, a girl suddenly knocking on his door, so pretty and smiling so sweetly... At first glance, she clearly was... Clearly painted. Li Banfeng had painted her with great care. It was certainly enough to fool an ordinary person, but Wu Yongchao was a tier-four Dwelling Cultivator, and painting was his specialty. Trying to deceive him with this trick fell just a bit short. The girl handed Wu Yongchao two burlap sacks and a letter. After reading the letter, Wu Yongchao asked her, "Where did the fort lord go? With something this important, why did he send you to deliver the letter?" The girl covered her mouth and giggled, saying nothing. Because Li Banfeng hadn't painted her a mouth. *** The next day, Wu Yongchao tucked the two burlap sacks away, slipped out of Tiemenbao unnoticed, and headed to a nearby village. Li Banfeng had made it very clear in his letter: the surrounding area was under surveillance. The entire route from the gates of Tiemenbao all the way to the village was watched. This was the Jiangxiang Gang's usual trick. Although Tiemenbao appeared calm and peaceful on the surface, a great many people were actually watching from the shadows. It was just like the Yu Family Cloth Shop back then—nothing seemed amiss on the outside, yet a sub-branch was concealed nearby. Once he reached the village, Wu Yongchao changed into coarse cloth clothes, put on a battered felt hat, bought a wheelbarrow from a carpenter, and then visited a farmhouse to purchase two sacks of white rice. He pushed the rice back in the wheelbarrow. When he was still more than five li from the fort, a man in a cloth shirt and a straw hat walked over with a broad smile. "Brother, where are you hurrying off to?" Wu Yongchao lowered his head and said, "I'm selling rice." "How much per jin?" "Three dollars." Wu Yongchao intentionally quoted an exorbitant price. "Can I see the goods?" Without waiting for Wu Yongchao to answer, the man in the straw hat drew a dagger and slit open a sack. He grabbed a handful of white rice and rubbed it between his fingers, grinding the grains to powder. "The quality is good, and three dollars isn't expensive. I'll take it." The man in the straw hat took out two silver dollars and placed them on the wheelbarrow. "I'm not selling." Wu Yongchao shook his head, picking up the coins to give them back. The man in the straw hat chuckled. "You took the money, which means payment has been accepted. Once the payment is made, the deal is done. Saying you won't sell now is too late." "I just won't sell to you!" Dwelling Cultivators were not sharp-tongued and disliked bickering. Wu Yongchao tossed the silver dollars aside and pushed the cart forward. The man in the straw hat lashed out with a kick, smashing the wheelbarrow's wheel to pieces. The cart overturned, and the burlap sacks tumbled to the ground. Wu Yongchao flushed red with anger. "You're bullying me!" "Young man, that's no way to talk. You sell rice, I gave you money to buy your rice, and you threw my money on the ground. Which of us is bullying whom?" Wu Yongchao struck a combat stance, ready to fight the man in the straw hat. The man let out a whistle, and a dozen men leaped out from both sides of the road. "Little brother, you really want to fight? It's just a business deal. Why take it so seriously?" "I'll fight you to the death!" Wu Yongchao threw himself into a brawl against the dozen men. His cultivation was higher than the others', but inferior to the man in the straw hat. Besieged by more than ten opponents, Wu Yongchao suffered minor injuries before using the Heart Arrowing Home technique to flee back to Tiemenbao. This was Li Banfeng's instruction: he had to fight them, but he had to preserve his own life. The man in the straw hat took off his hat, scooped up the silver dollars, and laughed. "Offered him money and he wouldn't take it. Now look at him—no rice, no money. He took quite a loss." A man beside him asked, "Branch Master, what should we do with this rice?" "Keep it, of course. Don't you need to eat?" The man in the straw hat was Han Jinwei, Branch Master of Huangtuqiao. Han Jinwei looked toward Tiemenbao and said to his men, "See that? That kid's cultivation isn't low, yet he risked his life for two bags of rice. "Life in Tiemenbao isn't easy. If it were, they wouldn't have gone to war with bandits. Their fort is about to run out of food. Trap them for two more days, and they'll definitely fall in line." Han Jinwei ordered his men to stow the grain, then returned to a nearby farmhouse to continue their stakeout. They had rented the farmhouse. Looking out from inside offered a wide field of view, while looking in from outside revealed nothing remarkable. It was an ideal spot for surveillance and ambushes. No matter where they went, Jiangxiang Gang disciples could always find a suitable foothold. It was truly an art of their trade. Han Jinwei said to the crowd, "Remember, we only want the goods, not lives. I came this time to talk terms with Tiemenbao. We should avoid major conflict if possible." *** A fortune teller wearing dark glasses and holding a blind man's cane walked along the path toward Tiemenbao. A man stepped forward to block him, asking, "What's your business?" The fortune teller smiled humbly. "Divination, character analysis." "Is that so?" Many in the Jiangxiang Gang came from backgrounds as itinerant fortune tellers and physiognomists. This gang disciple, named Zhu Youduan, looked over the fortune teller carefully; his paraphernalia indeed appeared quite professional. "Where are you going to tell fortunes?" "I heard Tiemenbao is just ahead. Business is good there." "It's no good anymore. They can't even get food to eat. Don't bother going over there." The fortune teller smiled. "Thank you for the warning." It was just a perfunctory reply. Someone who had traveled so far to do business was hardly going to turn back just because of a single warning. The fortune teller continued walking toward Tiemenbao. Zhu Youduan stepped up and grabbed him. "I told you not to go. Why aren't you listening?" The fortune teller said in a panic, "I'm walking my own path. How am I bothering you? What are you..." *Smack!* Zhu Youduan slapped the fortune teller across the face. "Get lost! If you refuse to listen again, it won't just be a slap next time." The fortune teller clutched his cheek and walked away. After walking several li, he sat by the roadside and began to weep aggrievedly. "What kind of world is this? I'm just doing business, how did I get in his way? Hitting me..." After weeping for a moment and confirming that his tail had left, the fortune teller felt along his blind man's cane and used a hook to send a message to He Jiaqing. "The Jiangxiang Gang has surrounded Tiemenbao. Should we strike ahead of them, or wait until they succeed and cut in to snatch it?" The Jiangxiang Gang? He Jiaqing chuckled. "Those scumbags are butting in too? Who leaked the news?" "They aren't letting merchants enter. If they keep up this siege, those Dwelling Cultivators in Tiemenbao won't have anything to eat." He Jiaqing's face filled with contempt. "After all these years, the Jiangxiang Gang is still using this same old trick." "I'd like to have a chat with whoever is running their show. They slapped me, and their hand was pretty heavy." "Old Wan, what is your cultivation level? What haven't you seen? Even when that bird-man Lu Dongjun was making things insufferable, didn't you endure it? "Let's not lower ourselves to their level. See what their situation is first, and don't rush to make a move." "I'll do as you say." *** Han Jinwei, Branch Master of Huangtuqiao, slept soundly in the farmhouse. The Jiangxiang Gang was a mid-tier gang in Puluo Province, far more powerful than Feiying Mountain. Han Jinwei knew Tiemenbao was easy to defend and hard to attack. He wouldn't storm the gates; he would only seal off the roads. The Dwelling Cultivators of Tiemenbao purchased their food, drink, and daily provisions from outside peddlers, and each household bought for itself. Dwelling Cultivators hated troubling others. If one household ran out of grain, they would be too embarrassed to ask their neighbors. With this scorched-earth blockade alone, Tiemenbao would surrender without a fight in less than a month. When he slept past six in the evening, Han Jinwei grew uneasy. He seemed to hear some faint disturbance. Having tumbled through the jianghu for many years, Han Jinwei was extremely cautious. He immediately stepped outside, only to find the six subordinates who were supposed to be guarding the courtyard gone. Something had happened! The men were missing, yet no bodies were in sight. He discovered faint bloodstains on the ground, along with a torn burlap sack. White rice had spilled all over the dirt. In the middle of the rice lay a sheet of white paper. He unfolded the paper to find two lines written upon it: *To buy rice, you must pay.* *If you have no money, pay with your life.* Han Jinwei flew into a rage. His nose swelled, the tip turning pitch-black as he sniffed the scent on the paper. He was a tier-five body cultivator. His original form was human, while his transformed form was a wolf. Guided by that trace of scent, Han Jinwei rushed out the door and tracked it all the way to the gates of Tiemenbao. The steam gate was shut tight. Wu Yongchao stood atop the gate lintel, looking down at Han Jinwei with a grin. "You're here to deliver the rice money, aren't you? Our fort lord said two bags of rice for six lives—the payment's about right, so we'll waive the loose change. If you don't have enough rice to eat, I can sell you some more. Same old price." Han Jinwei gritted his teeth at Wu Yongchao, his eyes gleaming green. He had no idea how Wu Yongchao had killed six of his men without him noticing a thing. Not only did he not know, Wu Yongchao didn't know either. He hadn't killed those men; he had only been responsible for delivering the rice. He had no idea that Li Banfeng's key had been hidden inside the sacks of rice. At that moment, Li Banfeng stood behind the steam gate, waiting for Han Jinwei to launch a direct assault. Han Jinwei felt a genuine surge of impulse to summon his men and storm the gate. Yet he forced that fury down. He knew Tiemenbao was fully prepared, and he knew the consequences of storming that gate. To have risen to branch master in the Jiangxiang Gang, Han Jinwei was capable of swallowing his temper for the moment. He turned and left. Leaving didn't matter; Li Banfeng had plenty of patience to play along with him. That night, Han Jinwei issued orders for the brothers of every sub-branch to maintain strict vigilance: kill anyone from Tiemenbao on sight, and sleep with both eyes open. Sleeping with their eyes open was supposed to be enough? Li Banfeng had long since learned the surrounding roads like the back of his hand. He captured two Jiangxiang Gang disciples, interrogated them, and in a single night had the layout of every sub-branch under the Huangtuqiao branch mapped out clearly. Over the next three days, he led several tier-four Dwelling Cultivators on rounds to pay visits to each sub-branch. After three days, every sub-branch suffered casualties—five or six at most, two or three at least. The fortune teller hid in the shadows, passing the news along to He Jiaqing. He Jiaqing sneered. This wasn't a problem that being vigilant could solve. Dwelling Cultivators possessed the innate talent of being easily overlooked; there was simply no way to guard against them. A frontal assault gained no advantage, and a scorched-earth blockade was utterly useless—Tiemenbao didn't buy that trick at all. *Xiao Zhenggong, you stayed in the Outer States for too long and know far too little about Tiemenbao. Sending someone like Han Jinwei was never going to work.* Even so, those Dwelling Cultivators of Tiemenbao had changed. They were no longer the same as before. *** Ten days later, Han Jinwei wanted to leave. He had no choice. Nearly half of his branch's brothers were gone. The Dwelling Cultivators of Tiemenbao went out every day to buy rice and vegetables, sometimes intentionally parading right under his nose. Every time Han Jinwei made a move, he couldn't catch them, while men on his side were killed every single night. If this went on, the Huangtuqiao branch would be finished. Han Jinwei didn't dare ask Xiao Zhenggong for instructions. Gathering the remaining brothers, he prepared to retreat to Huangtuqiao. Leaving wouldn't be so easy. As they passed Feiying Mountain, Han Jinwei suddenly heard a melodious voice singing: "Outside the long pavilion, beside the ancient road, Green grass stretches to the sky. Evening breeze caresses the willows, the flute notes fade, Graves beyond the mountains." Who was singing? Why did this song make him feel so intensely agitated? Han Jinwei's cultivation was high enough that the singing only made him irritable. His subordinates lacked sufficient cultivation: tier-three cultivators grew dizzy, tier-two cultivators crouched by the roadside vomiting, and tier-one cultivators collapsed on the ground, twitching uncontrollably. "Move! Hurry!" Han Jinwei realized they had walked into an ambush and ordered an immediate retreat from Feiying Mountain. Want to leave? How could it be that easy? Li Banfeng visited Feiying Mountain often and knew the terrain intimately. He could channel his wife's power outside the residence, and he knew exactly where to lay an ambush. More than a hundred Dwelling Cultivators burst from the forest, killing anyone in sight. They had plugged their ears in advance and were completely unaffected by the singing. Thanks to the intense training and cooperation from the bandits of Feiying Mountain, their combat ability had been thoroughly sharpened. Their strikes this time were steady and precise. Stone golems, mud men, and paper figures spearheaded the vanguard. Tier-three and tier-four Dwelling Cultivators followed closely as the core backbone. Tier-one and tier-two Dwelling Cultivators darted back and forth, rounding up stragglers. Less than ten minutes into the battle, only Branch Master Han Jinwei, a deputy branch master, and one sub-branch master managed to escape from the entire Huangtuqiao branch. The rest were completely wiped out. Li Banfeng stood at the foot of the mountain, continuing his song. *Graves beyond the mountains*—that line suited the scene perfectly. Li Banfeng gathered the departed souls to his side and, when no one was watching, ushered them all into the Portable Abode. "Wife, dinner is served!" "Oh, my darling heart, you truly pamper your humble servant. Today's dishes are splendid indeed." "Precious wife, remember to appreciate the Jiangxiang Gang's kindness from now on. Whether selling vegetables or delivering goods, their sincerity is unquestionable." *** Inside a village hut, the fortune teller sent a message to He Jiaqing: "Tiemenbao laid an ambush at Feiying Mountain. The Huangtuqiao branch is probably gone." "Tiemenbao took the initiative to strike?" He Jiaqing frowned deeply. "That doesn't fit their nature. Something is fishy." "I think it's fishy too. It would be best to go into their fort and investigate." He Jiaqing pondered for a moment. "I doubt the Jiangxiang Gang will let this go. Old Wan, keep watching the show. Don't act rashly."