Chapter 30: Then Let's Play for High Stakes!

Another day passed.

Wang Tiezhu and his men returned to Tielin Fortress, travel-worn and dusty, yet their faces were alight with excitement.

"Commander!" Wang Tiezhu exclaimed, "We’ve scouted everything!"

Lin Chuan set aside his work and gestured for them to sit and speak at length. Zhang Xiaonian pulled a crumpled piece of parchment from his tunic, on which the layout of the bandit stronghold was crudely sketched.

"The bandit trouble at Qingyang Mountain only started in the last year," Wang Tiezhu said, wiping sweat from his face. "The stronghold is shoddily built, tucked right beneath Eagle Beak Cliff. It’s surrounded by cliffs on three sides, with only two paths leading up."

"Did you confirm the head count?" Lin Chuan asked.

"There are about forty of them, but the strange thing is..." He scratched his head. "They rarely come down the mountain to raid. They just hole up in the stronghold all day long."

Lin Chuan frowned. "Are you sure? Only forty men?"

"Positive!" one of the scouts slapped his chest. "I lay in a tree and counted them three times while they were gathered outside eating. I counted them clearly..."

Lin Chuan’s questions grew more precise, and his brow furrowed further. Something was wrong—very wrong.

"According to Magistrate Qin..." he tapped the parchment slowly, "the Qingyang Mountain bandits raided government grain half a month ago. Can forty men really make off with the grain from thirty large carts?"

"Commander, there are only two paths to the stronghold," Wang Tiezhu shook his head after a moment's thought. "The 'Single-Line Sky' is a steep, narrow goat trail, and the 'Snake Coil Path' cuts through a field of jagged rocks. Grain carts couldn't possibly pass through there—forget carts, even two wheelbarrows couldn't pass each other. If they were carrying it by shoulder-pole..." He counted on his thick, stubby fingers. "Even if forty men moved it back and forth, it would take half a month. With such a massive operation, the villages at the foot of the mountain couldn't possibly be unaware."

"Exactly!" another man added. "The villagers all say they know nothing about it!"

"There’s something even more suspicious!" Wang Tiezhu suddenly recalled. "Eagle Beak Village is at the foot of the mountain, not far from the border. Usually, there are at least three or five waves of Tartars raiding every month, but the villagers say they haven't seen any Tartar raids. Instead, they’ve seen Tartar caravans..."

"Caravans?" The men looked at each other in confusion. With the current chaotic state of affairs, what caravan would dare to come through here?

Hu Dayong frowned. "Are you saying... the Tartars aren't raiding, the bandits aren't looting grain, and the Magistrate is telling a damn-faced lie about the government grain being stolen?"

Wang Tiezhu was stunned. "I... I didn't mean that. I'm just reporting what I found."

"I suspect the robbery is a fabrication, and the truth is that they are thieves stealing from their own storehouse," Lin Chuan sneered. "This gang of bandits is likely in league with Magistrate Qin, and as for the Magistrate..."

"What? Then why the hell are we going to suppress them!" Hu Dayong stood up abruptly. "I’ll take the men to the county office right now and twist that corrupt official's head off to use as a chamber pot!"

"Rash!" Lin Chuan glared at him. "Do you think a court-appointed official is someone you can just kill? Without concrete evidence, if we strike first, we’ll be branded as rebels."

The candlelight sputtered, casting flickering shadows across Lin Chuan’s face. The speculation was harrowing: A seventh-rank Magistrate, actually colluding with bandits to traffic government grain? If one thought even deeper, where was that grain ultimately flowing? The Tartars to the north? That was a death wish!

Could Magistrate Qin truly be so bold? But if that were the case, why would he ask him to lead men into the mountains to suppress the bandits? To silence him? But the twenty-odd men of Tielin Fortress were mere border troops in the Magistrate's eyes. If he really wanted to silence someone, wouldn't a formal request for garrison troops be safer? Yet, whenever he mentioned garrison troops, the Magistrate’s reaction was strange! It was obvious he wanted him to take this job. Why? Did he not want to eradicate the bandits, but rather eradicate him, Lin Chuan? That didn't seem likely; it was their first meeting, and they had no conflict of interest...

"Conflict of interest?" Lin Chuan muttered to himself. His footsteps stopped, and he looked up suddenly, a cold glint in his eyes. He remembered the Magistrate’s fawning manner while pleading for Magistrate Zhang at the banquet... He remembered the mine under Magistrate Zhang’s name that Tielin Fortress had suddenly seized... The answer was clear! Magistrate Zhang had lost a source of wealth and held a grudge. As a local official, the Magistrate couldn't move openly, so he colluded with Zhang. One plotted, the other reaped the benefits. They had packaged the treacherous scheme to wipe out Tielin Fortress as a glorious "bandit suppression" operation!

"I understand now!" Lin Chuan slapped his thigh.

"Commander, what do you understand?" Hu Dayong stepped forward. "Are we still suppressing the bandits?"

"Suppress! Of course, we’re going to suppress them!" Lin Chuan’s lips curled into a cold, sharp smile. "But this time, we’re going to turn their own plot against them." He suddenly recalled the way Qin Yanqiu had hesitated at the back door of the county office the night before. Her cryptic words: "This young woman... is only worried that the Commander is too eager to suppress the bandits and might fall into an ambush..." So, she had already seen through her father's conspiracy but was unable to speak out due to filial piety.

"Turn their plot against them?" The men looked at each other, not understanding what Lin Chuan meant.

"Squad Leader Hu, send someone to the county office..." Lin Chuan’s eyes surged with killing intent. "Tell the Magistrate that we will march tomorrow, take the 'Single-Line Sky' path, and go into the mountains to suppress the bandits!"

Hu Dayong accepted the order, called over an auxiliary soldier, and whispered a few instructions. Once the soldier left, Lin Chuan whispered a few more things in Hu Dayong’s ear. Hu Dayong looked at Lin Chuan in astonishment.

"What are you standing there for? Go!" Lin Chuan scolded in a low voice.

"Oh, right!" Hu Dayong hurried away.

"The rest of you!" Lin Chuan surveyed the circle. "Pack two days' worth of rations, get ready, and move out with me!"

"Understood!" The twenty-plus men shouted in unison.

A short while later, Lin Chuan and his soldiers left Tielin Fortress. They did not take the main road but traveled quickly along the shaded paths on the mountain ridge.

"Commander, where are we going?" Wang Tiezhu asked in a low voice.

Lin Chuan did not answer, merely gesturing for silence. After another half-hour of trekking, they arrived at a forest overlooking Magistrate Zhang’s estate.

"Conceal yourselves," Lin Chuan signaled, and the men instantly scattered into the bushes.

Time ticked by, and the moon slowly climbed over the mountain peak. Just as the men were becoming impatient, rapid footsteps suddenly echoed from afar. A dark figure ran sneakily along the path, looking back from time to time. By the moonlight, Lin Chuan recognized the man as the bailiff who had delivered the supplies two days ago. Even more surprising, Hu Dayong was following that man from a distance.

"Squad Leader Hu!" Lin Chuan called out.

"Commander!" Hu Dayong panted as he scrambled over. "Just as you predicted! Our man left the county office, and not long after, this bailiff sneaked out. I followed him all the way here!"

A cold light flashed in Lin Chuan’s eyes. "Keep watching."

About a quarter of an hour later, the side door of Magistrate Zhang’s house opened. A rider mounted a horse in a hurry and galloped along the path. In about the time it takes to burn a stick of incense, he would pass by their location.

"Stop him!" Lin Chuan commanded in a low voice.

Five or six masked men suddenly leaped out from the roadside. The horse neighed in fright, and the rider was thrown to the ground.

"Spare me, heroes!" The man was terrified, kneeling and begging for mercy.

Lin Chuan gave a look, and someone immediately stepped forward to search him. Sure enough, they pulled a letter from the rider’s inner pocket. By the faint glimmer of a fire-starter, Lin Chuan read the contents: "March into the mountains tomorrow, Single-Line Sky."

The seven sloppy characters were filled with chilling murderous intent.

"Damn it, what kind of lousy letter is this? No money?" Lin Chuan grumbled.

"Yes! Yes! There’s money!" The man hurriedly took a coin purse from his bosom.

Lin Chuan snatched the purse and weighed it—it was only a few taels of silver. "Hmph, enough to buy a few jugs of wine!" He sneered, tossed the letter back to the rider, and said, "Get lost!"

The rider, as if granted a reprieve, scrambled onto his horse and fled without looking back.

Hu Dayong stepped up. "Commander, what now?"

Lin Chuan looked at the brightly lit estate of Magistrate Zhang, his eyes burning with lethal intent. "We go to Qingyang Mountain right now."

He drew his long sword, the blade gleaming coldly under the moonlight. "Since they want to play, we’ll play for high stakes!"