The next morning, the county yamen gates swung open. Laifu and Agui took the lead, shouldering sacks and squeezing in first to finally secure a spot in line.
Ergouzi followed behind with his grain, stepping into a vast hall where dozens of massive measuring dou containers stood in neat rows.
Laifu and the others were busy emptying their sacks into the vessels.
Filling a container to the absolute brim and striking off the top created a standard measure.
Yet many small merchants, eager to win over customers, would heap a towering peak of goods above the rim, with the extra portion treated as a gift.
Thus the common saying arose: no merchant is without a heaped measure.
Ergouzi untied his own sack, poured grain into a container until it was full, heaped a small peak on top, and moved on to the next.
“Smack! Smack smack…”
A sharp pain flared across Ergouzi’s shoulder as a yamen runner lashed him with a whip from behind.
Startled, he looked back to see a heavily muscled yamen runner glaring viciously, lashing everyone in turn. Even Old Moneybags Huang failed to escape a blow.
“You worthless commoners!”
“The containers are not properly filled!”
Intimidated by the runner, the tenants clutched their sacks and frantically poured more grain onto every measure until nothing more could possibly stay balanced.
Then the yamen runner strode forward and kicked one of the containers hard.
Under the impact, the golden grain cascaded in a rustling shower down to the flagstones.
“Bang, bang, bang…”
The runner kicked each container hard in turn, scattering glittering rice across the floor.
“Fill them up!”
The tenants hurriedly shoveled grain back onto the measures, piling up even higher peaks.
“Bang, bang, bang…”
The runner repeated his cruel performance, kicking every container again so that more grain spilled over the rims, leaving the men with no choice but to fill them all over again.
Old Moneybags Huang clutched his chest, trembling violently, yet he dared not utter a single word of protest.
Fortunately, the runner stopped after two rounds and demanded no more. They finally completed this year’s tax delivery and received their official receipts.
Afterward, the group purchased a few provisions in the town. Making such a long journey meant they could not afford to return empty-handed.
Those with children at home typically bought a few wen worth of cheap sweets to coax the little ones.
Those with wives bought a chi or two of patterned cloth, practically guaranteeing months of docile obedience at home.
Those without wives bought a small measure of oil and salt to offer to a village widow, a neighborly gesture that served both sides.
Laifu bought two twisted dough sticks for his two children. Agui purchased a block of black salt, noting that salt was cheaper here than back in Sanchazi Town.
Having earned a handsome sum from selling Great Strength Pills, Ergouzi made his way back to the steamed bun shop and bought ten large meat buns all at once.
“You’ve lost your mind, Ergouzi, spending copper so wildly,” Laifu warned him kindly, shaking his head. “Be careful you don’t starve by year’s end and have to beg for thin gruel.”
“Take them back while they’re still hot and ask for a refund. Eating one or two is enough to satisfy your craving.”
“If you’re too embarrassed, I’ll go with you. At worst, we can sweet-talk the shopkeeper.”
Unable to reveal his newfound wealth, Ergouzi could only offer a strained explanation that he had stored up plenty of wild vegetables to see him through the winter.
The others simply shook their heads in silent disapproval, convinced the orphan lacked parental guidance and was hopelessly wasteful.
They had seen plenty of such youngsters; they might scrape by in peaceful years, but the moment disaster struck, they were always the first to starve.
Still, it was none of their business, and offering too many words only bred resentment.
The trek from the county seat to Snake Creek Village was arduous. Setting out at midday, they had covered only half the distance by nightfall.
They had to gather dry brush and withered grass by the roadside to fashion crude torches for light.
“Aren’t we getting close to where we were held up last time?”
“It’s fine, King Zhao has his principles. He only robs a passing group once per trip.”
Even as they spoke, a dark figure stepped out to block the middle of the road ahead.
The silhouette gripped a gleaming blade, looking particularly menacing in the flickering torchlight.
“Could that be King Zhao ahead?”
Old Moneybags Huang felt a knot in his chest. Although King Zhao was a bandit, he usually operated openly without a mask and announced his arrival with gongs.
Thus, despite his respectful tone, Old Moneybags Huang kept safely hidden within the crowd and dared not step forward alone.
The dark figure maintained a chilling silence, striding toward them with sword drawn.
“Swish!”
A cold flash cut through the air. A hand rose, a blade fell, and a tenant’s head tumbled to the dust as warm blood splattered across Ergouzi’s face.
“Ah!”
“Murder!”
“There’s only one of him! Let’s rush him together!”
Laifu, possessing more grit than the rest, let out a fierce roar and shoved his wheelbarrow straight at the assassin.
Driven by primal terror and the instinct for survival, the rest of the men shouted and hurled their heavy wheelbarrows forward.
Ergouzi snatched up a carrying pole and swung it toward the approaching figure.
There were fifty of them against a single attacker.
They had assumed numbers would guarantee victory, but the shadowy figure moved with ghost-like agility, leaping over the charging wheelbarrows without so much as brushing a hem.
Another flash of cold steel followed, and Laifu’s head spun high into the air.
Two other men clutched their slashed bellies and collapsed onto the road.
These were ordinary tenant farmers; having never witnessed such slaughter, they dropped their tools and bolted in blind panic.
Ergouzi turned to run as well, only to see the blade flashing directly toward him.
He instinctively swung his heavy wooden wheelbarrow at the attacker.
Though he had yet to master formal martial arts, the foundation he had built through practice had vastly increased his strength and reflexes.
The solid wooden barrow, four or five chi long and weighing several dozen jin, whistled through the air with such force that it actually drove the assailant back two paces.
“Oh?”
Clearly surprised that a mere youth possessed such brute strength, the attacker let out a low murmur.
Seizing the brief opening, Ergouzi continued flailing the barrow wildly. Lacking any refined technique, his sheer speed and monstrous strength created a chaotic defense.
Skilled though the assassin was, he could not immediately bypass the sweeping barrier.
“Crack…”
The attacker’s blade finally chopped the wooden barrow into pieces, leaving Ergouzi with only a heavy wooden shaft in his grip.
The attacker pressed in too closely for him to seize another vehicle.
A quick glance backward revealed that all the others had already vanished into the darkness.
With everyone else gone, standing his ground was pure suicide.
He whirled around and sprinted. Visit g.com for the full chapter.
His newly strengthened physique allowed him to move at a blistering pace, the wind howling past his ears.
Yet the assassin’s speed was no less terrifying, the sound of pursuing footsteps drawing steadily closer.
The man was clearly a trained martial artist, and far more powerful than he was.
Panic surged in Ergouzi’s chest. He could neither fight nor outrun his pursuer.
Desperate, he channeled the meager thread of Vital Qi within him down toward his legs.
Instantly, the surging energy imbued his stride with explosive power. A single stomp cracked the hard road surface, propelling him forward in a sudden leap.
The assassin, who had raised his blade for a fatal strike, was caught entirely off guard by the sudden burst of speed.
By the time the blow fell empty, the distance between them had already widened once again.
Ergouzi had been practicing daily, but his master had never explained the proper application of Vital Qi, leaving him to figure it out by instinct.
Though the initial surge nearly caused him to trip, he quickly steadied his rhythm and accelerated.
Up ahead, he soon overtook Old Moneybags Huang, who was wheezing and stumbling along in exhaustion.
Given his advanced age, the old landlord could not keep pace with the younger tenants and had been left entirely behind.
Seeing Ergouzi and the assassin both closing in, Huang shrieked in sheer terror.
“Ergouzi, save me!”
Having barely managed to widen the gap, Ergouzi had no spare strength to rescue others and flashed right past him.
While Old Moneybags Huang had once treated him to a meal, the debt of gratitude did not extend to sacrificing his own life.
“Save me!”
“The land on Snake Mouth Mountain!”
At those words, Ergouzi abruptly halted his stride and turned back without a second thought.
A single meal plus three mu of mountain land was worth risking his neck for.
As he reached the old man’s side, the assassin arrived, swinging his blade directly toward Huang’s neck.
Intervening just in time, Ergouzi hauled the landlord aside, causing the strike to glance off and leave only a shallow gash across the old man’s back.
Without pausing, Ergouzi hoisted Old Moneybags Huang onto his back and bolted.
Carrying an extra body drastically slowed his pace.
Before long, the pursuing footsteps began to close the distance once more.
“Hurry! He’s right behind us!”
Old Moneybags Huang wailed in absolute terror against his back.
As another blade stroke grazed the skin of the old man’s back with a chilling hiss, the landlord lost control of his bladder, a stream of warm urine soaking straight through Ergouzi’s garments.
At that critical juncture, another surge of strength welled up from Ergouzi’s muscles, stretching the lead out slightly.
Time and again, the assassin closed in, reducing the old man to frantic shrieks and trembling limbs.
It was not that Ergouzi lacked willingness, but his cultivation foundation was still shallow; the faint internal energy was quickly exhausted.
Fortunately, his muscles continued to release a little qi, barely replenishing what he had spent.
He fumbled into his pouch, grabbed a handful of Great Strength Pills, and crammed them straight into his mouth.
The pills slowly digested in his belly, generating a little Vital Qi—better than nothing, and enough to keep him going a little longer.
As Ergouzi’s speed flagged, however, the assassin also showed signs of exhaustion, his pace finally slackening.
The distance between them gradually widened again.
By the time Ergouzi finally carried Old Moneybags Huang back into Snake Creek Village, the sky was already fully bright. He had run at a dead sprint for nearly the entire night in a single breath.