Banditry 02

But now that he knew what was going on, Fang Zhiyi was in no hurry.

"As the saying goes, to catch a thief, catch the stolen goods; to catch adultery, catch the couple in the act," Fang Zhiyi calculated. "And since someone can get released just by sending a bribe once, I'd better not waste my effort on this."

Because Fang Zhiyi did not go to report them, the Fu family remained undisturbed. The next day, while he was sunning himself at his doorstep, Fu Yunshen saw him and gave a gentle smile. Fang Zhiyi also responded politely, his eyes glancing at Fu Yunshen's hands. Did no one suspect the calluses on his knuckles?

Watching Fu Yunshen head off to open his shop, Fang Zhiyi stood up as well.

"Brother Fang, are you going out?" a woman's voice came.

Fang Zhiyi turned back with a smile. "Yes, visiting some relatives."

Shen Zhixia looked at the bundle in his hand and smiled. "Then be careful on the road. Try not to travel at night."

Fang Zhiyi nodded repeatedly. "Alright, alright."

After he left, Shen Zhixia walked briskly to Fu Yunshen's shop. Fu Yunshen was there, staring blankly at the account book. His old comrades had come to see him yesterday, and he could tell they were not doing well.

With just one look at him, Shen Zhixia knew what was troubling him. "Stop thinking about it. You've washed your hands of that life. Are you really going to go back?"

Fu Yunshen smiled bitterly. "I don't want to. But they have no choice. The wanted notices are still up. Just coming into the city risks their heads."

Shen Zhixia thought for a moment. "How about... we give them some of our money?"

Fu Yunshen looked at Shen Zhixia with affection. "Zhixia, you're too kind-hearted. Let's do as you say." He still had plenty of gold and silver hidden away, something even Shen Zhixia didn't know.

Meanwhile, Fang Zhiyi had already walked onto a narrow street, looking left and right. His gaze fell on an old man squatting by a wall, clutching a hoe.

"Old sir," Fang Zhiyi said, approaching and squatting down.

The old man slowly looked up, his eyes devoid of vitality.

"Oh, oh, am I blocking the way? I'll leave right away."

Fang Zhiyi reached out to stop him, shaking his head. "Old sir, I'd like to ask you about someone."

The old man gave a pained smile. "I'm old. My eyes can't see clearly anymore. Who could I possibly know?"

Fang Zhiyi paused briefly. "You definitely know this person. The Great Chieftain of the Clear Wind Stronghold, Down Mountain Tiger."

At these words, the old man's expression became agitated, a fine sweat breaking out on his forehead. "Who? You... who are you?"

Fang Zhiyi tried to soothe him. "I am... someone who seeks justice for you."

The old man was taken aback, scrutinizing Fang Zhiyi carefully. After a long while, he shook his head. "Justice? What justice is there in this world?"

Fang Zhiyi smiled. "There is. Believe me." He took out paper and a writing brush, spreading them out right there.

Finally, the old man began to slowly tell his story.

The old man once had a happy family. They weren't wealthy, but they had enough to eat. The family was even discussing sending his little grandson to the new-style school. They'd heard that nowadays, people outside were all sending their children to the new schools, so they could become high officials or generals in the future.

But all that happiness was shattered one night. The old man heard a commotion outside and immediately knew something was wrong. He tried to get up and bar the door, but he was a step too slow. The wooden door was smashed open, and a large band of bandits poured in.

No matter how they pleaded, the bandits paid no heed. The leader shoved his wife aside, and she crashed headfirst into the windowsill and lay still. His son was killed on the spot. His daughter-in-law was carried off. The old man was struck on the head and lost consciousness. When he woke up, he began searching for his family, only to find his son and wife dead, and his daughter-in-law and grandson gone.

Several families around him had suffered the same fate. A few days later, those of them still alive received a message from the bandits, along with the severed limbs of their kidnapped relatives, demanding ransom.

The old man sold off the heavy, bulky items from his home and scraped together some money to pay the ransom. But what he received in return was the already foul-smelling skeleton of his grandson. As for his daughter-in-law, she had likely died after suffering endless torment.

"The landlord's family in our village suffered even worse. Both his sons were taken. The bandits sent back his eldest son's hand. Master Ren couldn't bear to part with the money and delayed paying the ransom, even boasting he would wipe out the Clear Wind Stronghold. Two days later, his eldest son's head was sent back in a basket, along with one of his younger son's hands."

Fang Zhiyi was silent for a moment, his brush never stopping. "Then did he pay the ransom?"

The old man nodded. "He did. But the bandits still didn't release anyone. They demanded more money. Master Ren got so agitated he fainted and died. His wife paid a lot more. I heard they gave away everything valuable in the house. But Master Ren died without ever seeing his sons return."

He caught his breath. "I came to the city hoping to see the day the authorities wipe out those bandits. But the government just accepted our petitions and did nothing."

Fang Zhiyi nodded and had the old man press a bright red handprint next to the characters he had written.

"I can't read what you've written, but it's useless. I thank you just for listening to my story." The old man kept bowing with his hands clasped.

Fang Zhiyi hesitated, then took out the money he had on him and offered it. But the old man didn't take it. He just retreated into the low, small shack behind him. Soon, the sound of heart-wrenching sobs came from inside.

Fang Zhiyi took a deep breath and left.

"I originally had three sons," a white-haired old man recounted. "My eldest went into trade with a caravan and was killed by bandits. My second son, trying to escape bandits, accidentally fell off a cliff and died."

His youngest son survived, but not well. That year, the bandits surrounded their village and forced the young men to join them. For the safety of his family, the old man's youngest son joined the bandits.

Someone nearby chimed in, "You're young, you haven't seen it. Those bandits tied people to the wooden frame at the village entrance. Anyone who resisted, they would slice a piece of flesh from the person on the frame and roast it right there in front of everyone to eat. I remember they killed over a dozen people that day."

The old man who spoke earlier argued, "More than twenty!"

"Were there that many?"

"You're getting old."

Fang Zhiyi pressed, "Then, old sir, did your third son ever come back?"

The old man's expression turned hesitant. "No. But a young fellow from the same village escaped and came back. He said many wanted to run away, but getting caught by the bandits meant certain death. I..."

Fang Zhiyi understood. In his heart, the old man believed his son was still alive.

He rolled up the paper in his hand, said his goodbyes, and left. The several old men watched his retreating figure, unsure of what he was really trying to do.

In a thatched hut on the outskirts of the city, a one-armed man sitting in the shadows looked at Fang Zhiyi before him and immediately demanded money.

Fang Zhiyi didn't hesitate either. He took out all the money he had on him.