Chapter Fifty-Four: Conflict on the Road

The group escorting Hong Xiaoshui soon reunited with Feng Xiaobao and his companions. Mounting their horses, they loaded Hong Xiaoshui into a small carriage and placed Madam Yang inside as well, transporting them both together.

“What should we do next?” Cheng Boxi asked.

Yang Chengxian replied, “We have two options. One is to split up: some of us deliver the heads to the Xindu Mountain garrison to claim the reward, while the rest return to Luoyang at once. The other is that we all go to the garrison together for the reward.”

He explained, “If we split up, the main group remains safe, but the smaller party would be at risk.”

“A small group would be in real danger. Three heads are worth over two thousand four hundred strings of cash. That’s a fortune, enough to tempt others into making a move.”

“Indeed…”

After some discussion, they decided to go together to the Xindu Mountain garrison to claim the reward. Their confidence in themselves outweighed the risks of splitting the party, and they had semi-official backing, so they feared no one.

Upon their return to the garrison, they saw black smoke curling up from the mountainside—the authorities were burning the robbers’ stronghold, and the battle was over.

All told, the wandering heroes had reaped a fair bounty. Although the leaders had escaped with the most valuable gold ingots, the silver, copper coins, and jewels left behind still amounted to nearly thirty thousand strings. With nearly a thousand heroes storming the mountain, each received about thirty strings on average—some took more, some less; some kept their lives, others perished. It was a true tableau of the world.

The patron of this venture, the middle-aged, black-bearded merchant Kang Anda, had set up a tent in the government camp to exchange heads for reward money. Ordinary heads were handed in to his subordinates, but the heads of the bandit leaders he received personally.

Feng Xiaobao and Cheng Boxi entered together, with Tang Tian joining for the excitement. She strode shoulder to shoulder with Feng Xiaobao—their matching height and commanding presence made a striking pair. Cheng Boxi, somewhat jealous, remarked, “I’ve become mere window dressing.”

The tent was piled with severed heads, the air thick with the smell of blood. Tang Tian chatted and laughed, unfazed. Others might have quailed before her, but Feng Xiaobao seemed perfectly at ease, which secretly delighted her.

Had they not descended from Xindu Mountain, their heads would have been suspect—possibly innocent victims claimed as bandits. But when the heads of “Ghost Axe” Qiu Shenyang, “Flying Feather” Sima Wang, and “Serpent Spear” Zhang Yongping were produced, all of them notorious figures, the tent erupted in cries of astonishment.

Kang Anda exclaimed, “Truly, heroes have always emerged young!”

He paid them promptly—over two thousand six hundred strings (including two hundred for other bandits’ heads)—then casually asked, “By chance, have you seen a young lady? She’s a relative of one of the victims, and her family wishes her returned…”

“No, we haven’t seen her,” Feng Xiaobao lied smoothly, without a flicker of emotion.

Kang Anda smiled, “If you do, let us know. We’re willing to pay five hundred strings to ransom her.”

“We have not,” Feng Xiaobao insisted.

“Surely you must have,” Kang Anda murmured, but said no more. Someone nearby interjected, “You left with two extra women, didn’t you—?”

Crack! His words were cut off by the sharp report of a whip. The black, gleaming whip coiled at Tang Tian’s waist lashed out like a viper, flicking the talkative man’s hat clean off without so much as grazing him.

“She’s my maid. Any objections?” Tang Tian said coolly.

After that dazzling display, no one dared object. Heroes such as these were swift and decisive—the wise kept their peace unless they wished to provoke a fight.

Kang Anda hurried to smooth things over. “A misunderstanding, that’s all!”

Watching them leave, Kang Anda’s confidant grumbled, “We checked, she (Madam Yang) did fall into their hands. Are you really going to let them go so easily?”

Kang Anda shook his head. “We can’t do anything to them here. One is the princess’s favorite, another is the son of a powerful general, the third is a noble’s illegitimate child. If trouble breaks out, it’ll be impossible to manage.”

“Not here…” Kang Anda said with a sly grin.

At the same time, Yang Chengxian visited a senior official in the government army, Left Commandant Chen Anzhi, an acquaintance. After a brief account, he received the same praise: “Truly, heroes emerge young!” The three had accomplished what others could neither imagine nor achieve, reaping the most fame and profit.

“It’s a pity your brother Feng Xiaobao didn’t behead Xia Fuyiao in public. That thousand-string reward is lost,” Chen Anzhi lamented.

“Who claimed it then?” Yang Chengxian asked.

“No one yet. The head was tossed into the ravine, and many are now searching for it.”

A thousand-string head was certainly worth the trouble.

After some conversation, Yang Chengxian offered gifts—three hundred strings to the government troops, two hundred to Chen Anzhi’s superior, one hundred each to the Left and Right Commandants.

A wealthy patron is treated differently; Chen Anzhi personally escorted them to the camp gate, whispering, “Be careful on the road!”

The warning sent a chill down Yang Chengxian’s spine.

After regrouping, the brothers recounted what had happened. Cheng Boxi remarked, “That Madam Yang (the magistrate’s concubine) must be carrying some secret. Both Lü Yingbu and Kang Anda want her.”

“No need to complicate things,” Feng Xiaobao said calmly. “We’ll take her back to Luoyang. Once she’s there, whatever secrets she holds will be ours.”

The warning to be careful on the road proved wise, for as Feng Xiaobao prepared to set out for home, he found his path blocked by more than a hundred men—brothers from the Chang’an road.

Led by Huang Bao and Huang Hu, they demanded, “Was it you who intercepted Qiu Shenyang, Sima Wang, and Zhang Yongping?”

Having claimed the reward for the heads openly, there was no denying it. Feng Xiaobao admitted it readily.

Huang Bao’s face darkened. “Our brothers fought and died to draw off most of the bandits, and you took all the spoils. That’s not right!”

Their men echoed, “That’s right! It’s not fair!” Their greedy eyes fixed on the bulging packs carried by Feng Xiaobao’s group, using the pretext of avenging their fallen brothers to start a quarrel.

Their greed could hardly be blamed; many had died, and if they didn’t fight for more, no one would follow them next time.

Feng Xiaobao’s face hardened. “And what do you propose?”

“By the rules of the road, half the take!”

Half? He might as well rob them outright. (In truth, they weren’t so foolish—Huang Bao and Huang Hu had split their forces and simply chosen the wrong path.)

Feng Xiaobao, furious, laughed coldly. “Very well—right at the gates of the government camp, you want to play the bandit? If you want to be bandits, we’ll kill bandits!”

“Kill the bandits! Kill the bandits!” Feng Xiaobao’s group shouted, their spirits so fierce they cowed the opposing hundred.

Weapons in hand, their eyes blazed, poised for slaughter.

The Chang’an road brothers, caught in a dilemma, likewise drew their weapons, preparing for a fight. They waited for orders from Huang Bao and Huang Hu, but the two brothers hesitated, their faces pale, unable to give the signal to attack.

At last, all eyes turned to the female warrior in Feng Xiaobao’s midst. She had three arrows nocked to her bow, aimed directly at Huang Bao.

Beside her, a middle-aged archer had likewise nocked three arrows, aiming at Huang Hu.

With the woman’s aim fixed on him, Huang Bao raised his right hand, but could not bring it down. Sweat streamed from him, rare for someone of his cultivation.

Huang Hu, too, dared not move. The standoff continued, deadlocked.