Volume One: Flames on the Frontier Chapter Five: Testing the Blade for the First Time

He Yu had been eating and drinking for free for two months and was already feeling unbearably restless, as if all his strength had nowhere to go. Yet whenever he suggested finding some work, Lin Su and his granddaughter always worried that he was just recovering from a serious illness, afraid he might harm his health, and no matter what he said, they refused to agree.

That evening over supper, He Yu once again brought up the idea of helping Lin Su burn charcoal, but Lin Su and Deng’er still shook their heads, refusing to let him. At his wit’s end, an idea suddenly struck He Yu. He put down his chopsticks, pretended to be angry, and said, “I’m not eating anymore—I can’t. We’re almost out of food, and here I am, a grown man, idling around all day eating for free. People will laugh at me. I… I… I’ll just head back home tomorrow.”

Hearing he wanted to return to Jiangnan, Lin Deng’er was startled and wanted to persuade him otherwise, but she couldn’t find an excuse. “The New Year is near; it’s only natural for a traveler to return home.” So she sat silent, feeling lost and dejected.

Lin Su was also taken aback, his brow furrowing. “Yu’er, I’ve never asked before—do you still have any family back home? I’ve never heard you mention them. Well, if you’re going home for the New Year, that’s only right. But to set off now is a bit late, and the roads aren’t safe. Still, if you’re determined to go, I’ll find a way to give you some travel money.”

Lin Su’s sincere words left He Yu speechless. Thinking of his wretched parents, sorrow welled up inside him and his eyes reddened. Half-truth and half-lie, he said, “My family originally came from north of the river, refugees who fled to Nansha County in Jinling Commandery. But then an epidemic broke out and my parents and elder brothers all passed away. With no way to survive, I went back north to find our clan, but they’d been ruined and scattered. I had nowhere to go and was robbed by bandits. Later, I met you, Grandfather, and Deng’er…” He Yu had already investigated: his hometown Changshu was now called Nansha County, under Jinling Commandery.

His story was seamless, leaving Lin Su no room for doubt.

Lin Su sighed, “Ah, these troubled times are truly cruel. Yu’er, with no kin left and no home, what would you do in Jiangnan? Why not stay here and spend the New Year with us? At least there’s food to eat.”

Lin Deng’er breathed a sigh of relief and chimed in, “That’s right, Yu Zhi, Grandfather is right. Don’t go anywhere, just stay with us.”

He Yu pouted, “That’s all well and good, but I can’t eat here for nothing. I must go with Grandfather to cut wood and burn charcoal.”

Lin Su burst out laughing. “Deng’er, if that’s the case, then let Yu’er come with me to the mountain tomorrow!”

He looked at his granddaughter and He Yu with a smile, clearly pleased. After these days together, old Lin Su had grown very fond of this handsome, good-hearted young man, who often came up with ingenious ideas and exuded a quiet, commanding presence.

The next morning, Deng’er rose early to prepare flatbread and pickles for them. He Yu tidied up, picked up the axe, saw, and machete, and followed Lin Su, who drove their ox cart up the mountain.

The barren mountain where they cut wood was more than half an hour’s walk from the Chen family’s fort. The terrain was steep and winding, known as Dulong Ridge.

Once they reached the mountain, they shed their long coats and began chopping wood. The northern climate was bitterly cold and dry; the trees grew tough and resilient. Lin Su taught He Yu hand-over-hand how to use his strength and how to bundle the wood, reminding him not to overexert himself lest he strain his body. He Yu was quick to pick it up. Following Lin Su’s method, he swung the axe and machete, working vigorously.

As a special forces soldier from the twenty-first century, He Yu’s usual training was unimaginably intense and advanced. His strength, endurance, explosive power, and physical resilience were far beyond that of ordinary men. Having crossed inexplicably into ancient times and pent up for over a month, he finally had a chance to let loose.

He hacked and chopped with all his might, sending branches and trunks crashing down. Lin Su was dumbfounded, holding his tools but forgetting to swing them.

“Heavens above, this isn’t the strength of one man—even three couldn’t compare!”

Lin Su, a former military man even in his seventies, was still robust, but next to He Yu, the difference was like heaven and earth.

Amazed and delighted, Lin Su watched He Yu work, unable to hide his growing satisfaction.

In just half a day, they had chopped a great deal and bundled several massive stacks.

“That’s enough, that’s enough! Any more and the cart won’t hold it all!”

Lin Su called for a break, and He Yu, still unsated, wiped his sweat and squatted down beside Lin Su to eat the flatbread. Having not exercised for so long, breaking a sweat left his whole body feeling open and refreshed.

After eating, Lin Su rested while He Yu continued chopping. Rather than fiddling with small stuff, he decided to tackle something big.

He Yu picked out a tree as thick as a man’s waist and began sawing at the base. In less than fifteen minutes, there was a resounding crash as the entire tree toppled.

Lin Su was secretly astonished. “Could this boy be a reincarnation of Xiang Yu or Ran Min? Where else would such strength come from?”

Felling the tree left He Yu satisfied but a bit tired. After a short rest, he began to saw the trunk into sections, while Lin Su chopped off the smaller branches.

With the tree lying on the ground, cutting was much easier, and soon they’d piled up a small mountain of bundled wood.

“Oh no, Yu Zhi, we’ve been so focused on chopping, but it won’t all fit in one load.”

“Well, Grandfather, if one cart isn’t enough, we’ll make two trips. You stay here and bundle the wood—I’ll drive the cart back and make several runs today.”

“Can you manage alone, Yu’er?” Lin Su was worried.

“It’s fine, Grandfather—I still have plenty of strength,” He Yu replied.

They loaded the cart, and He Yu drove it back toward Chen Family Fort.

At the gate, the guard was amazed. “Yu Zhi, back with a load already? Where’s Old Lin?”

He Yu just grinned and muttered a reply, then drove the cart on to the charcoal kiln.

He quickly unloaded the wood, didn’t even stop for water, and took the empty cart back toward Dulong Ridge.

Just as he reached the bottom, he heard Lin Su shouting curses from above. “You two bastards! Robbing an old man’s firewood in broad daylight—aren’t you afraid of heaven’s wrath?”

A rough voice yelled back, “Old fool, this ridge belongs to us brothers. The wood is ours. If you don’t back off, we’ll skin you alive!”

Loud, raucous laughter followed—clearly there were two of them.

He Yu gripped his machete and crept up the ridge, peering through the trees. A burly, fierce-looking man with a red face and black beard was blocking Lin Su, while another, similar in appearance, was rolling the bundled wood down the slope to where two ox carts waited. Judging by their looks, the two were probably brothers.

Though Lin Su was old, his military training made him tough. He cursed and shoved back, nearly coming to blows with the red-faced man.

In the two months He Yu had known Lin Su, the old man had always seemed kind and gentle, just like any other elder. But now, faced with bullies, he showed his true colors—a soldier’s spirit, undaunted even when outnumbered. He was a man who would always draw his sword against enemies, a true hero.

But Lin Su, despite his size and strength, was old and tired from a morning’s labor, and quickly began to falter.

Worried for the old man, He Yu stepped out from the trees and barked coldly, “Stop right there!”

Though his voice wasn’t loud, it carried an unmistakable force that made both men instinctively let go. Lin Su doubled over, gasping for breath, and pointed at the red-faced man, coughing so hard he couldn’t speak.

The red-faced man, seeing that his challenger was a youth of about twenty, scowled fiercely and threatened, “Where’d you crawl out from, brat? Dare to meddle in our business? Do you even know who we are?”

He Yu approached with measured steps, his voice cool and even. “No, I don’t. Why don’t you enlighten me?”

The burly man roared, “I’m Han Dahuo, and that’s my brother Han Erhu—the Twin Tigers of Yanmen! Heard of us? Now get lost!”

“No, you get lost!” He Yu retorted with a cold snort, then sprang forward—kick to the groin, knee to the gut, punch to the face—all in a flash, seamless and precise. Before Han Dahuo could react, he was sent flying, his cheek slamming into a tree, blood streaming from nose and mouth as he collapsed, unconscious.

He Yu’s sudden attack was utterly unexpected, giving his opponent no chance to defend himself—a killing strike, the hallmark of a special operations soldier.

The commotion drew several nearby woodcutters, and seeing Han Dahuo so thoroughly beaten, they couldn’t help but cheer.

“Well done!”
“Serves him right!”
“Someone needed to teach him a lesson.”

The Han brothers were hunters from the mountains, neither affiliated with the fort nor with any local authority. They mingled with vagrants and bandits, behaving as both civilians and outlaws, often bullying nearby villagers with their strength and earning the nickname “Twin Tigers of Yanmen.”

Han Erhu, seeing his brother laid low, roared and swung a hefty club at He Yu, as if he meant to kill him with a single blow.

He Yu dodged nimbly to the side, slipped in close, and crashed into Han Erhu’s chest. With a flick of his wrist, the machete flashed as he swept it toward Han Erhu’s neck.

He Yu had practiced the art of close-quarters killing countless times—his body moved by instinct.

But at that life-or-death moment, He Yu’s heart softened. “These Han brothers may be infamous, but their crimes don’t warrant death. I’ll let him off this once.”

In a split second, he turned the blade and let the dull edge brush Han Erhu's neck.

Han Erhu felt a chill at his throat as the machete slid across, and with a shriek of terror, he dropped his club.

In these war-torn northern lands, with the government in shambles and bandits preying openly on civilians, killing a man in the wilds was hardly unusual.

Han Erhu, spared, stood rooted to the spot, face pale and sweat streaming, a deep red mark across his neck.

He Yu grinned, tossed the machete to stick upright in the ground. “Had enough? If not, let’s go again.”

Han Erhu came to his senses, bowed with fists cupped, and said, “Sir, your skill is divine. We brothers admit defeat. From now on, we won’t set foot on this ridge again.”