20: Chapter 20 Robin Hood-like Revenue

"I only seek... a clear conscience..."

These few words, like a ghostly whisper, circled around Zhang Shan's ears and would not leave.

His entire body froze in place, and his blood seemed to have congealed.

This sentence... Young Master Zhao Long had also said it to him before.

How could it be?

How could a bandit Chief, who killed without blinking and was shrouded in a sky-high Evil Qi, say the same thing as that lazy but gentle Young Master?

A coincidence?

It must be a coincidence!

This thought sprang up frantically as he tried to convince himself.

The world was so vast; there was surely more than one person who would say the same thing.

Yes, it must be so.

Zhang Shan panted heavily. The sharp pain from the wound under his ribs pulled him back from his absurd thoughts. He glanced toward the depths of the forest, where that burly silhouette had long since disappeared.

He looked again at the corpses scattered everywhere and his own blood-stained body.

For some reason, the resolute flame in his heart to avenge the Young Master flickered, seemingly blown dim by an invisible wind.

Leaning on his sword, he limped away from this bloody ground and walked toward the direction of the Qingyang Taoist Temple.

...

Life on Black Wind Mountain returned to a sort of eerie calm.

However, the atmosphere in the mountain stronghold grew more oppressive by the day.

The government soldiers at the foot of the mountain were like maggots on a bone, refusing to retreat.

Every day, they would symbolically send a squad to shout curses and provocations outside the Narrow Pass, only to be driven back by rolling stones and a rain of arrows from the mountain, leaving behind one or two corpses.

This didn't look like an assault on the mountain.

It looked more like bloodletting.

Using human lives to slowly wear down the morale and patience of Black Wind Mountain.

In the Juyi Hall, fewer and fewer bandits were drinking, while arguments became more frequent.

"Damn it! Two more brothers are dead! All just to drive away those few dozen cowards down the mountain!"

"Our food reserves are running low! If we keep consuming like this, we'll starve to death even if we aren't killed by the soldiers!"

"Second-in-Command, let's charge down the mountain and fight it out with them!"

Iron-Armed Monkey said nothing, only squeezing the wine bowl in his hand until it creaked.

The stone chamber in the back hall.

Chen Fan continued to live his life as usual.

Practicing his blade, drinking water, and accompanying his three wives to study the true meaning of life.

It was as if the siege outside the mountain, which had lasted for nearly a month, had nothing to do with him.

This afternoon, he had just finished practicing a set of blade techniques when the Third Chief, Smiling Tiger, rushed in with a face full of joy, forgetting even to knock.

"Chief! Great news!"

The fat on Smiling Tiger's round face was trembling.

"The soldiers... the soldiers have retreated!"

Chen Fan's movement of wiping the blade paused for a moment.

Retreated?

It was a few days earlier than he had expected.

"They've finally decided to buzz off." He leaned the Ghost-Headed Greatsword against the corner and sat down at the table.

"How did they retreat?"

"Hahaha! Chief, you should have seen it! They were scurrying away like rats, abandoning their armor and equipment!" Smiling Tiger gestured excitedly. "The brothers we sent to scout said the camp at the foot of the mountain is empty! That old thing Magistrate Zhao De took the remaining defeated troops and retreated back to the county seat overnight!"

Inside Juyi Hall, things had already boiled over.

The bandits, who had been suppressed for nearly a month, erupted in earth-shattering cheers.

"We won! We won!"

"That old dog Zhao De finally couldn't hold out anymore!"

"The Chief is mighty!"

Iron-Armed Monkey was surrounded by the crowd, laughing heartily as he held a jar of wine high.

Smiling Tiger leaned in close to Chen Fan, lowering his voice with a hint of schadenfreude on his face.

"Chief, guess what? I heard that Zhao De was carried back!"

"Oh?"

"Hehe, the scouts down the mountain heard that the old fellow Zhao De was already on the verge of collapse—his provisions were exhausted and the army's morale was scattered. Then yesterday, a letter came from his manor saying... saying that the three wives left behind by that brat Zhao Long had all run away!"

Smiling Tiger spoke with great animation.

"Not a single one stayed! They even took their dowries and valuables! When Zhao De heard the news, he spat out a mouthful of old blood and fainted on the spot! Now, how could those soldiers have any heart left to fight? They carried their master and scrambled off overnight!"

Chen Fan's hand, which was picking up a teacup, stopped in mid-air.

Liu Ruyan, Su Qingyu, Lin Waner...

Those three wives just ran away like that?

What a pity.

The identity of Zhao Long had truly become a thing of the past.

Well, those three wives also had bitter lives.

He hadn't expected that Zhao Long's death would actually benefit so many people.

At the very least, over eighty percent of the people in Qinghe County were likely clapping and cheering.

The victory of Black Wind Mountain came in a somewhat comical fashion, but it was a victory nonetheless.

That night, a victory banquet was held in Juyi Hall.

The remaining hundred or so bandits brought out the last of their food and good wine, eating meat in large gulps and drinking wine in large bowls to celebrate this hard-won victory.

Amidst the noise and fanaticism, Chen Fan sat alone in the tiger-skin chair at the head of the hall, sipping wine occasionally.

"Chief."

Smiling Tiger approached with a wine bowl. His face smelled of alcohol, but his small eyes were full of sober calculation.

"The brothers suffered heavy casualties this time." He sighed. "Out of over two hundred people, only a hundred and thirty or so are left standing. The food on the mountain has also hit rock bottom."

Chen Fan didn't speak, just looked at him.

"Chief, what I mean is, we need to find a way to recover as soon as possible." Smiling Tiger lowered his voice even further. "Once the brothers have rested for a few days, we need to go down the mountain and pull off a big job!"

"The nearby villages have just finished their autumn harvest; every one of them is dripping with fat..."

Iron-Armed Monkey also stumbled over drunkenly, shouting with a thick tongue: "Right! Let's do a job! We'll snatch back all the losses from this past month! Grain! Silver! And women!"

When the bandits heard this, they all joined in the clamor, greed flashing in their eyes.

This was the life they were familiar with.

Chen Fan finished the last gulp of wine in his bowl and slammed it heavily onto the table.

Bang!

The noisy Juyi Hall fell silent instantly.

Everyone's gaze focused on him.

"Going down the mountain is fine."

Chen Fan spoke, his voice gruff, echoing in the mountain cavern.

Excited, cruel grins appeared on the bandits' faces.

"However," Chen Fan's tone shifted.

"From today onwards, Black Wind Mountain will have a new rule."

He stood up, his burly frame casting a massive shadow that loomed over everyone present.

"If we are to rob, we rob those wealthy and heartless households, those unscrupulous gentry who hide behind high walls and hoard more grain than they could eat in several lifetimes."

"As for the poor commoners, you are not allowed to touch a single needle or thread of theirs."

The cavern fell into a dead silence.

All the bandits were stunned, their smiles frozen on their faces as if they had heard some kind of fairy tale.

Chen Fan ignored their reactions and continued.

"Half of the grain we seize will be distributed on the spot to the nearby refugees."

"Robbing the rich to help the poor?"

Iron-Armed Monkey was the first to react. He widened his eyes as if he didn't recognize the man in front of him.

"Big Brother! You haven't had too much to drink, have you? We are bandits! We are outlaws! We aren't running a charity house!"

"Why should we give the things we traded our lives for to those mud-legged peasants!"

His words drew a wave of agreement.

"Yeah, Chief! This doesn't fit the rules!"

"Who ever heard of being a bandit like this!"

Chen Fan did not explain.

He simply, slowly, lifted the Ghost-Headed Greatsword that had been leaning against the chair.

He walked up to Iron-Armed Monkey, the massive blade resting on his shoulder.

"My words are the rules."

His voice wasn't loud, yet it carried an undeniable, grim chill.

"Who has an objection?"

Everyone lowered their heads, not daring to say a single word of dissent.

On Black Wind Mountain, the Chief's word was law.

An Eighth-Rank Martial Artist represented absolute strength; no one would think of opposing him.

Seeing this, Chen Fan nodded in satisfaction.

Although he had possessed the body of the Black Wind Demon, a bandit leader,

He was unwilling to wallow in the mire with bandits.

In his heart, he had his own principles. Having received nine years of compulsory education, he could not bring himself to plunder the common people.

On the contrary, he was quite interested in the idea of robbing the rich to help the poor.

Whoever has the money is the one he'll make a living from.