Chapter Twenty-One: Counterattack

After more than two hours, Yuanye finally managed to fully suppress the poison in his body.

Glancing around, he noticed a table in the opposite corner, laden with wine and food. Behind the table was a pile of dry straw, upon which the bandit lackey slept soundly, utterly oblivious to the world.

Yuanye rose and walked to the cell door. Gripping the wooden bar with his left hand, he gathered his strength in his right and struck the wooden door with a single palm.

With a sharp crack, the doorposts splintered and broke. Though his inner energy had been depleted, Yuanye’s arms still retained their formidable strength—well over a hundred kilograms’ worth.

Sauntering over to the corner, Yuanye saw the bandit still deep in slumber, undisturbed even by the sound of the door shattering.

He lifted a bowl of wine from the table and dashed it across the bandit’s face. “Wake up!” he called.

The sharp-faced, monkey-cheeked bandit lay sprawled on the straw, drooling in his sleep, when the cold splash shocked him to his core. His heart contracted in fright, and he jolted awake.

As soon as he awoke, he heard Yuanye’s voice. Groggy and confused, the bandit looked up to see a white-clad youth standing before him.

“Strange, why does this fellow look so familiar? Is he new?” Though startled from his sleep, the bandit’s mind remained muddled.

“Hey kid, does Boss Bear have some orders for me?” Wiping the wine from his face, the bandit spoke lazily.

Yuanye sighed. “Seems you still need a little more rousing,” he murmured.

The bandit, thinking Bear had sent for him, awaited confirmation from the youth. But in the next instant, a pale hand flashed through the dim light and landed squarely atop his head.

Agonizing pain shot through his skull, and his body seemed to float weightlessly through the air.

With a resounding bang, he crashed into the very cell door Yuanye had just exited. The impact reverberated, and the shattered wooden door collapsed completely with a clatter.

“Oh—oh—” came the pig-like wailing from the heap of debris.

The commotion roused the other prisoners in the neighboring cells. Hearing the screams, they scrambled up in terror.

“If you dare make another sound, I’ll break all five of your limbs,” came a cold, clear voice. The prisoners looked toward the sound and saw the white-clad youth emerge from the corner.

What was going on? Wasn’t this the person who’d just been locked up? Where was the bandit?

The prisoners exchanged bewildered glances, utterly at a loss.

“Hero, please don’t kill me! I have an eighty-year-old mother and a three-year-old child at home. I beg you, spare my life!” The bandit, buried beneath the wreckage, finally came to his senses.

“You think you’re in a Stephen Chow film?” Yuanye remarked, uttering a line none of the prisoners understood as he approached.

The bandit scrambled out of the ruined cell, ignoring his throbbing pain, and threw himself at Yuanye’s feet, groveling with exaggerated flattery.

Yuanye, exasperated, quickly stopped him. “Enough, enough—less nonsense. Tell me everything about your bandit hideout. What’s your leader’s name? How many men are there? Who among them are true experts? If you dare lie, you’ll die without a grave.”

The bandit, eager to please, replied, “Hero, our chief is called Lu Tong—nicknamed Tiger-Head Flood Dragon, meaning he dominates both land and water. No one knows his real name. There are about a hundred people in the stronghold, but most were forced to join. Only the Wolf Chief, plus Bear and Little Bear, are true fighters.”

“So the Wolf Chief must be that guy called Mangy Dog. Bear? Little Bear? Why not just call them Big Bear and Second Bear?”

The bandit rattled off everything he knew about the stronghold with the zeal of a frightened traitor.

“Open your mouth,” Yuanye barked. Instinctively, the bandit obeyed, and immediately felt something slide down his throat.

He was petrified. “Please, mercy, hero! I swear I told the truth—please, don’t kill me!” He gagged and tried to vomit, but nothing came up, and soon he was weeping in terror.

“Relax,” Yuanye said coolly. “What I gave you is the Three-Day Disembowelment Pill. If you don’t get the antidote in three days, your guts will rot and you’ll die. Do as you’re told, and I’ll give you the cure.”

“Yes, yes, hero! I’ll do whatever you say, I swear!” the bandit stammered in terror.

“Now go fetch that Wolf Chief. You know what to say.” Yuanye fixed the bandit with a meaningful look.

The bandit’s face turned ashen—he was being asked to betray his fellows! Not that he minded betrayal, but if this youth failed to defeat the Wolf Chief, he’d suffer a fate worse than death. The Wolf Chief’s tastes were notorious—he had a penchant for men! The bandit groaned inwardly.

But the queasy sensation in his stomach, and the thought of certain death in three days, left him no choice but to nod in miserable agreement. If the youth failed, he’d just switch sides again. Surely the Wolf Chief wouldn’t kill him out of gratitude for his “sacrifice.”

In truth, his nausea was entirely justified. The so-called “Three-Day Disembowelment Pill” was nothing more than a lump of foul mud Yuanye had scraped from the floor. Of course it was revolting.

The bandit wiped the grime from his face and body, then scampered off to lure the Wolf Chief.

“Hero, save me! I’m the younger brother-in-law of the garrison general of Lin’an. If you rescue me, my brother-in-law will surely reward you!” As the bandit left, a ragged young man in the neighboring cell called out.

“Hero, I’m Zhou Yang, eldest son of the Zhou family of Jiangnan! Please save me!” From another cell, another youth called out.

“Hero, my name is Jabba. Please, save me!” A middle-aged man with a long face, high nose, and brown eyes called out in broken Chinese.

Yuanye soon realized that the prisoners here were no ordinary people—there was the brother-in-law of the former capital’s garrison general, the heir of a wealthy Jiangnan clan, a wealthy merchant from the Western regions, a grain magnate from Chengdu, and, in the furthest corner, a familiar face.

“Enough noise. Even if I let you out now, bandits are guarding the exit. Hide for now—when I’ve dealt with the bandit leaders, I’ll come back for you,” Yuanye instructed.

A short while later, footsteps echoed from the left-hand passage, and the bandit’s voice rang out: “Chief Wolf, as soon as the kid woke up, I came to report. I haven’t told Bear or anyone else. Please remember me when you rise to power.”

“Relax, Skinny Monkey, stick with me from now on and no one will dare mess with you. The chief values this kid highly—if I get the information out of him first, the chief will reward me, and those two damned bears won’t dare cross me again,” Wolf Chief snarled.

“Of course, Chief Wolf! After the chief, you’re the top man here!” the bandit replied obsequiously.

Hearing the bandit’s loud performance, Yuanye knew he was being warned.

Moments later, Wolf Chief led the way, Skinny Monkey following, and the two emerged from the shadowy corridor.

Stepping from the darkness into the cave’s bright light, Wolf Chief instinctively squinted.

But in the next instant, he shouted, “Ambush!”

He’d barely narrowed his eyes when he sensed a murderous wind and knew he’d walked into a trap. A veteran of many skirmishes, his reflexes were swift—he grabbed Skinny Monkey and thrust him forward as a human shield, then launched himself off the rock wall, charging headlong with reckless abandon—a style worthy of his ferocious name.

But he faced Yuanye—a master of the highest order. Though Yuanye’s inner power was spent, his physical prowess and martial skill far surpassed Wolf Chief’s.

Yuanye had lured the leaders one by one to avoid being surrounded. Still wary after his earlier poisoning, he preferred caution.

Seeing Wolf Chief charging with Skinny Monkey as his shield, Yuanye sprang a full yard into the air, twisted in mid-leap, and, now parallel to Wolf Chief, focused his strength into his right palm and delivered a Mountain-Shaking Palm to the back of Wolf Chief’s neck.

With a crisp crack, Wolf Chief was driven into the ground, spasmed a few times, and lay still.

Yuanye turned him over. Wolf Chief’s face was long, his canine teeth protruded, and his scalp was covered in mangy sores.

“No wonder the chief calls him Mangy Dog—he really does look like a mangy cur. He must have insisted on the title ‘Wolf Chief’ because ‘Mangy Dog’ sounded too insulting,” Yuanye mused.

Wolf Chief’s face had turned ashen, blood trickled from his mouth, and his breaths were shallow—he was as good as dead.

Though Yuanye’s inner energy was gone, his years of training had honed his body to peak strength, and his Mountain-Shaking Palm carried several times the force of a normal blow. Wolf Chief, with no inner energy to defend himself, stood no chance.

Yuanye’s palm had struck with precision at the weakest point of Wolf Chief’s neck, snapping his spine and leaving him with only a thread of life.

Now, Skinny Monkey staggered to his feet, dazed. He looked from the dead Wolf Chief to the seemingly frail youth.

With a loud smack, Skinny Monkey slapped himself across the face.

“Ow—that hurts!” he cried. But the pain assured him this was no dream.

Wolf Chief was truly dead—killed in an instant by the youth who appeared so delicate and harmless.

He had expected a fierce battle between the two. Just before exiting the corridor, he had even tried to warn the youth to prepare an ambush.

Yet, in the blink of an eye, the invincible Wolf Chief had been slain.

A sudden light shone in Skinny Monkey’s eyes—a desperate will to live. The youth was this formidable; if he obeyed faithfully, surely he wouldn’t be deceived.