Chapter 49: Sparing Zhang Xianzhong

Sun Kewang’s expression shifted rapidly. Suddenly, he waved his hand for his men to release the villagers of Li Family Village, then prostrated himself, knocking his head to the ground in a long bow. “Then our lives and deaths rest on your mercy alone.”

Not far away, Li Zicheng reined in his horse, and the village’s able-bodied men also stopped to watch. In the biting cold wind, every gaze fixed on Li Yi.

Li Yi gazed silently at the bowing Sun Kewang for a long moment before finally withdrawing his Tiger Fang spear.

Seeing this, Sun Kewang’s heart leapt with joy. He hurried forward to help Zhang Xianzhong up. Zhang, pale and shaky from exhaustion, looked at the tall and upright Li Yi, unable to suppress a mix of anger and awe.

When he’d first heard Wang Tong say the leader of the silver raid was a youth with unnatural strength and remarkable martial skill, he’d dismissed it as exaggeration to save face. But tonight, seeing Li Yi alone hold the village gate against hundreds, charging into their ranks and nearly killing him, Zhang Xianzhong could no longer underestimate the young man. A trace of fear took root in his heart, and the memory of that thunderous, punishing backward lance strike became a nightmare that would haunt him.

“Benefactor, your magnanimity overwhelms us,” Sun Kewang said gratefully.

Li Yi looked at Zhang Xianzhong and Sun Kewang. He had spared Zhang for two reasons: he lacked the strength to annihilate all the bandits, and he feared the uprising would suffer if Zhang Xianzhong died. Zhang, one of the Eight Great Kings, was a pillar of the rebel army, fighting fiercely from north to south, repeatedly defeating the Ming commanders. If he died now, who else could hold so many imperial troops at bay?

“Don’t thank me yet. I promised to spare your lives, but you came raiding tonight—how should we settle this debt?” Li Yi’s voice was cold.

Zhang Xianzhong glared menacingly. “Li Yi, what do you want?”

Li Yi beckoned to Gao Jie, Honest Gao, and Li Zijing. “How did our men fare? Any deaths?”

Li Zijing quickly replied, “Three seriously wounded, a dozen or so lightly wounded, but no deaths.”

Hearing that not a single villager had died after such a fierce battle, Zhang Xianzhong’s face darkened. Nearly fifty of his own men had been slain, including twenty of his most ruthless cutthroats.

Li Yi exhaled in relief. These young men were his carefully trained officer candidates; every loss would have pained him deeply.

“For the seriously wounded, I want a hundred taels of silver each. For the lightly wounded, fifty taels each. For every villager frightened, ten taels each. Add the burnt houses, and I want two thousand taels in total.”

“Two thousand? Damn it, you’re really asking for it!” Zhang Xianzhong cursed, sucking in a breath.

Li Yi swept his spear, the shaft striking Zhang Xianzhong’s face and leaving a bloody welt. “Insult me again, and I’ll end you right here,” he said icily.

Zhang Xianzhong clutched his face, glaring venomously but not daring to retort.

Sun Kewang gave a bitter smile. “Benefactor, though we are outlaws, we’re not rich. Even if we sold ourselves, we couldn’t scrape together two thousand taels.”

“Then I’ll compromise. Whether it’s gold, silver, jewelry, weapons, or armor—anything of value—even if you have to scrape your bones, you’ll hand over goods worth two thousand taels,” Li Yi replied, his tone ruthless.

Sun Kewang dared not bargain further. “Understood. We’ll gather the two thousand taels’ worth.”

Li Yi’s voice remained cold. “As for the silver stolen from the Ai family, I had nothing to do with it. I don’t want to hear anyone frame me for it. Do you understand?”

Sun Kewang nodded repeatedly. “Of course. The Ai family silver was taken by Wang Tong, who colluded with thieves.”

Li Yi looked to Zhang Xianzhong. Zhang snorted disdainfully, eyes full of contempt, refusing to speak.

Li Yi stepped forward, his blood-stained hand gripping the Tiger Fang spear, his handsome face icy cold as he stared Zhang down. Zhang’s heart trembled; he tried to resist but finally bowed his head. “I understand.”

“Sun Kewang will stay here. Once the goods arrive, he’ll be released,” Li Yi said with a cold smile, then turned to leave.

At that moment, Li Zicheng came over, leading his horse. He walked up to Zhang Xianzhong and punched him hard in the face. Zhang staggered back, clutching his cheek, and Sun Kewang hurried to intervene.

“Zhang Xianzhong, you ungrateful scoundrel! That punch repays the arrow you shot at me!” Li Zicheng shouted.

The surrounding bandits glanced at each other, none daring to intervene. Zhang, in the wrong, could only grit his teeth. “I admit my defeat tonight, Li Zicheng. I’ll take that punch.”

“Don’t let me see you again.” Li Zicheng, respected in both the underworld and the official world of Mizhi County—and with Li Yi, the living King of Hell, at his side—left Zhang Xianzhong no choice but to slink away with his men.

Honest Gao and his men cleaned up the battlefield and assisted the villagers whose homes had burned. Li Zicheng rode to the county seat in the night to make a report.

The attack by Zhang Xianzhong could not be concealed; the authorities had to be informed immediately.

Li Yi first comforted his great-grandfather and the other villagers, then turned to Li Zijing. “How are the three seriously wounded? Take me to them.”

“They’re in the ancestral hall,” Li Zijing replied, leading the way.

Battlefield wounds were grave; deep cuts and heavy blood loss meant death was near, especially in an era with no blood transfusions or antibiotics. Li Yi had to do everything he could to save them.

He hurried into the ancestral hall, where three young men lay pale on planks. All bore multiple deep blade wounds, and the bleeding would not stop.

“Get the braziers burning hot, and bring lots of linen, trauma medicine, strong spirits, and needle and thread,” Li Yi ordered. He examined their wounds; one had clearly had his femoral artery severed, blood pouring forth, while the other two’s bleeding was mostly controlled.

The lightly wounded men crowded around, faces full of hope, trusting their captain to save their comrades.

“Why are you crowding around? Back off!” Li Yi snapped, anxious. He drove them away, tied a tourniquet above the wounded man’s thigh, and gradually stopped the flow of blood.

Using spirits, he cleansed the wounds, then stitched the edges and applied trauma medicine, binding the injuries tightly. If the other two could survive infection, they would likely live. As for the third, if his blood clotted well and his constitution was strong, he might survive; otherwise, tissue necrosis would set in, and infection could be fatal.

In this era, survival depended on luck. Li Yi could only increase the odds.

Without a moment’s rest, Li Yi went on to tend the lightly wounded, cleaning and bandaging their injuries.

By the time he finished, the rooster crowed in the village—dawn was near.

Still without rest, Li Yi went to the cave where Sun Kewang was held.

Goudan and two others stood guard. Seeing Li Yi, they stood at attention.

Li Yi nodded and entered.

Sun Kewang sat on the bed but stood up as soon as Li Yi entered. Li Yi, weary, waved him down and sat himself.

“My men have kept an eye on your foster father since he left Ganquanli, and he killed Wang Tong’s men along the way. Clearly, he’ll come to ransom you,” Li Yi said.

Sun Kewang was relieved. Though he was Zhang Xianzhong’s adopted son, he wasn’t sure Zhang would pay two thousand taels to ransom him.

“But if you worried he wouldn’t ransom me, why leave only me as hostage?” Sun Kewang asked, puzzled.

“It’s simple. If Zhang Xianzhong doesn’t ransom you, it means he’s abandoned you. Then you’ll have to stay here.”

Li Yi smiled, his tone earnest. “The goods are worth two thousand taels, but you, Sun Kewang, are worth far more to me.”

Sun Kewang’s heart grew warm with surprise—he hadn’t expected Li Yi to value him so highly.

He suppressed his feelings and bowed his head. “You are too kind, benefactor. My foster father has been good to me; I would never betray him.”

Li Yi sighed softly. “Of course. Loyalty between ruler and subject, father and son—if you betrayed Zhang Xianzhong, who would ever trust you again?”

Li Yi’s candor warmed Sun Kewang’s heart. “Not only are you a master of martial arts, benefactor, but also wise beyond your years.”

“No need to flatter me. I’m here to tell you to wait in peace. Whether Zhang Xianzhong and I can settle our grievances depends on you.”

“I’ll do my best to persuade my foster father not to trouble you again,” Sun Kewang promised.

Li Yi nodded and took his leave. He could see that after tonight’s battle, Zhang Xianzhong had lost men and been forced to pay a large compensation—he would surely hate Li Yi now. Though Li Yi was not afraid, he had no wish to become the target of the bandit leader’s revenge.

Within a year, Li Yi himself would have to rise up, and Zhang Xianzhong’s support would be needed. For now, Sun Kewang could help ensure peace between them.

Li Yi returned home, where Yun Niang tended his wounds.

He had been struck by an arrow from Liu Wenxiu while pursuing Zhang Xianzhong. His strong constitution kept the injury from being severe, but the arrowhead had to be removed.

Yun Niang, tears in her eyes, carefully cleaned the blood, used a sharp knife to cut open the flesh and extract the arrowhead, then dressed his wound. When she finished, she was weeping. Li Yi comforted her for a long while before she finally calmed.

Dawn was breaking. The fires in the village had finally been put out by the combined efforts of the villagers, when a squad of a dozen men appeared. The sentries quickly alerted Li Yi.

He knew at once it must be the authorities. At the village entrance, he received them. At the head of the group was Shi Kefa, the magistrate of Xi’an Prefecture who had visited Ganquanli before, with Li Zicheng beside him and officers and guards behind.

Li Yi bowed. “Your humble servant Li Yi greets Your Excellency.”

Shi Kefa sat upright on his horse, surveying the burnt ruins, the corpses of bandits at the gate, and the horses with broken legs. The ground was stained with blood, the air thick with the smell of gunpowder. He sighed, knowing the attack had been fierce.

“How many villagers were hurt last night?” he asked.

“Three of our militia are seriously wounded, seventeen lightly, but not a single villager was harmed,” Li Yi replied.

“No villagers harmed?” Shi Kefa was astonished.

Li Yi nodded.

“Li Yi, the headman at Ganquanli told me four hundred fierce bandits attacked last night. You claim none hurt the villagers?” Shi Kefa’s tone was skeptical.

“Sir, the militia held the bandits at the gate and did not let them into the village. Naturally, the villagers were unharmed,” Li Yi explained.

Li Zicheng added, “Your Excellency, Li Yi’s martial skill is unmatched. It was he who killed the leading bandits, forced Zhang Xianzhong to surrender, and saved the villagers.”

Shi Kefa dismounted to examine the battlefield. The ground at the gate was a tangle of footprints and blood, but the village itself was orderly and undisturbed. He realized the two men spoke the truth, and his astonishment deepened.

To hold off four hundred bandits with only a local militia—was this really the work of a country youth?

He studied Li Yi, newly impressed. Not only was Li Yi righteous and heroic, he knew how to train soldiers and lead them in battle. With martial prowess to match, if such a talent could be recruited by Lord Hong, the formation of a personal elite force to suppress bandits would be greatly strengthened.

But if Li Yi was involved in the robbery of the Ai family’s caravan, he could not be trusted.

“Where are the bandits’ bodies?” Shi Kefa asked.

Li Yi led them to a wasteland where dozens of corpses lay. Shi Kefa waved, and several officers stepped forward to inspect them. Soon, one reported, “Sir, several of these are known to us—they were Zhang Xianzhong’s men.”

Shi Kefa nodded. “So it was Zhang Xianzhong who dared lead a night raid on Li Family Village.”

Suddenly, another officer spoke. “Sir, I see Wang Tong among the dead.”

Shi Kefa started in surprise. “Wang Tong of the Zhenyuan Escort Agency?”

“Yes, sir,” the officer replied.

Shi Kefa’s interest was piqued. He was investigating the Ai family robbery, but the scene had been carefully cleaned, and clues were few. He had suspected Li Yi, since Li had suddenly become wealthy and was known to feud with the Ai family.

Now, finding the missing caravan guard among the dead, perhaps this clue could lead him to the stolen silver.

Shi Kefa hurried to Wang Tong’s corpse, examining the details. Wang’s wounds matched those of the bandits—he had clearly been among them.

Had Wang Tong colluded with Zhang Xianzhong to rob the Ai family?

He turned to the calm-faced Li Yi. Could it be Li Yi had nothing to do with the robbery?

Doubt warred with relief in Shi Kefa’s heart.

He approached Li Yi. “Li Yi, you led the militia to protect the villagers and slew dozens of bandits. I will report this to Lord Hong, and you will be richly rewarded.”