Chapter Thirteen: The Old Bandit

Several men exchanged glances, their faces darkening with fierce expressions.

The great calamities in Qitian were relentless, making survival difficult for ordinary folk.

Yet for men like them, it was as if they were swimming freely in water.

This was because they were not ordinary villagers—they were bandits.

Many of the refugees who had fled earlier had not perished from hunger or illness on the road; they were slaughtered by these bandits.

Even the scant food supplies they had left were seized by these marauders.

Without food, the refugees faced only one fate: death.

The men concealed themselves and quietly crept into the village, moving toward the rising smoke from the chimneys.

Soon, they arrived near the small courtyard where Zhao Mu and Huang Wan were temporarily staying.

Tilting their heads, they carefully observed the surroundings.

Before long, they had assessed the situation inside.

They exchanged looks and revealed expressions of relief.

There were four of them, and inside the courtyard, only a man and a woman.

Even if others were hidden inside, they would not pose a match for these bandits.

“That woman looks familiar—seems like the young lady who escaped before,” one of them chuckled darkly, addressing the others.

The other three scrutinized her, their eyes lighting up.

Despite Huang Wan’s disheveled appearance, she could not hide her innate beauty.

They had once captured Huang Wan, intending to exploit her before selling her to the gangs.

But just as they were about to take advantage of her, their boss had one eye gouged out by Huang Wan, who then fled in the chaos.

Since then, their men had been searching relentlessly for her.

Unexpectedly, they had found her here.

“Let’s go! Capture this young lady—our boss will surely reward us handsomely!” said a man with a horse-faced grin, rubbing his hands together. “Once we catch her, we’ll clean her up first—I’m eager to feast!”

The others nodded in agreement. Though they intended to bring Huang Wan back to their boss, he cared little whether she was a pure maiden or not.

Bang!

The four men kicked open the courtyard gate.

Zhao Mu and Huang Wan were startled, their eyes widening in shock as they looked toward the door.

“Young lady, long time no see!” the horse-faced man sneered, eyes gleaming with malice. “Last time you gouged out our boss’s eye and escaped in the chaos. Now I want to see where you think you can run!”

The men stormed inside, cornering Zhao Mu and Huang Wan within the courtyard.

Zhao Mu’s heart sank as he glanced at the darkening sky, realizing he had been somewhat careless this time.

Though dining after dark was inconvenient, the smoke rising from the fire should not have drawn attention.

Huang Wan watched the four men warily, silently slipping one hand into her bosom.

She had been captured by these men before and knew exactly who they were.

If they caught her again, she would suffer unspeakable agony.

Zhao Mu gripped the freshly sharpened firewood knife tightly, nervously eyeing the four.

Along the journey, he had encountered many destitute refugees begging for food.

But these four were different. The refugees were weak and timid, easily frightened off, but these men’s eyes shone with ruthless fierceness—they did not even regard Zhao Mu.

“Oh, looks like there’s a hero wanting to save the damsel?” the horse-faced man taunted Zhao Mu mockingly. “Kid, if you’re smart, stand outside and keep watch for us. After we’re done with her, maybe we’ll let you have a turn too. How about that?”

Zhao Mu said nothing, only tightening his grip on the knife.

The four bandits exchanged glances, their laughter growing louder.

“This kid’s got no sense. Kill him!” ordered a bald bandit coldly, as the others drew their weapons.

In this chaotic era, they valued human life lightly.

If Zhao Mu wanted to die, they’d be happy to oblige.

The horse-faced man casually twirled his blade, sneering at Zhao Mu: “Kid, ever killed anyone? Know how to use a knife?”

With that, he strode straight toward Zhao Mu, clearly underestimating him.

At that moment, Zhao Mu was terrified. Had this been when he first traversed here, he would never have dared abandon Huang Wan to save himself.

But after days of companionship, his mindset had shifted.

The heavens were merciless, treating all living things as mere fodder.

He could be indifferent but not devoid of conscience.

These four carried weapons, their eyes cold and vicious—seasoned bandits.

With his slight build, he was no match for them.

Besides, he and Huang Wan were trapped inside the courtyard, with no escape route.

As for the horse-faced man’s earlier words, Zhao Mu didn’t take them seriously.

These bandits were cruel and deceitful; their words were meant only to toy with him.

If he took them seriously, he would be played for a fool, suffering unspeakable torment before death.

Since he refused to surrender meekly, there was only one way: to fight.

“Wait!” Zhao Mu suddenly raised his hand, signaling the horse-faced man to stop.

The man hesitated, then laughed: “What’s this? You’ve come to your senses and want to join us for some fun?”

Zhao Mu shook his head. “You’re right—I don’t know how to use a knife.”

The horse-faced man frowned. “Then what do you plan to do?”

With a sidelong glance at the man, Zhao Mu spotted a wooden stick about five feet long lying in the courtyard.

He cautiously approached, cutting the stick with the firewood knife several times, sharpening it to a pointed tip.

After a few practice swings, he nodded in satisfaction.

Handing the knife to Huang Wan, Zhao Mu fixed the horse-faced man with a solemn gaze.

“Using a knife would be unfair. This stick will do just fine.”

Holding the sharpened stick with both hands, Zhao Mu glared fiercely.

The horse-faced man and the others laughed at the sight.

They could see that Zhao Mu was treating the stick like a spear.

But his stance and grip looked clumsy and ridiculous to them, unlike someone skilled with a staff or spear.

The horse-faced man sneered, “Kid, you really think you can kill me with that?”

Zhao Mu nodded. “If I used a knife, that’d be unfair. This way, at least it’s a fair fight.”

Feeling insulted, the horse-faced man’s face darkened. “Big talk. Let’s see how you’ll kill me with your pathetic stick!”

Behind him, the bald bandit frowned, impatiently urging, “Number Three, get on with it—stop stalling!”

The four were sworn brothers—the bald one was the eldest, the horse-faced man the third.

The horse-faced man narrowed his eyes, sizing up Zhao Mu’s movements, then raised his blade to strike.

He was a veteran killer who never hesitated to take a life.