“We’ll do as you say,” Lu Piao sighed in resignation.

  “Good. We only have a couple of days to prepare. If only we could lure all four families out of the city, but there’s nothing to be done about that.”

  “The judge left with his family for their countryside estate,” the old man suddenly interjected without turning his head, his brush never pausing as he continued to write. “He won’t be in Baohe for some time.”

  “Oh? That makes two out of three. Perfect. Get the men ready, have them check their weapons and loosen up,” Zhang Ming ordered. “Don’t tell them where we’re going. Let them think we’re just going after another gang.”

  “Understood. I hope you know what you’re doing,” Lu Piao shook his head and went off to relay the orders, muttering about the weather under his breath. “It’s getting colder. Winter’s coming. There was fog yesterday morning. This is the kind of time to sit at home by the stove, not… this…”

  At Zhang Ming’s command, every valuable item in the estate was hauled out and sold, even the furniture. They had planned to mortgage the house as well, but found no legal documents for the land or its construction. Bigmouth Wang had built it as he pleased, likely after slipping someone a bribe. With the proceeds, Zhang Ming purchased black clothing for thirty men, serviceable weapons, bows, and several sets of leather armor.

  The Mad Saber bandits volunteered for the coming operation of their own accord, though none of them knew the details or the true objective. Ordinarily, they would have guessed Zhang Ming’s intentions, but the idea itself was so insane it simply never occurred to them. After two days of frantic preparations, bribes, and quiet arrangements, the fully armed bandits left Big-Mouthed Wang’s estate.

  That night, heavy clouds smothered the sky above Baohe. The streets sank into pitch darkness, and thunder rumbled in the distance. Rain began drumming against rooftops, growing louder by the minute until it drowned out all other sounds. Water rushed along the paving stones, pooling into spreading puddles.

  Despite the storm, several dozen figures with cloth wrapped over their faces ran through the streets toward the wealthy district. Water splashed beneath their boots, spraying in all directions. Their clothes were soaked through, yet they pressed forward as though unaware of the downpour. The storm concealed their movements from prying eyes. The townsfolk had retreated indoors and did not dare stick their noses outside, while even the guards huddled in their barracks around their stoves.

  When the group reached the walls of a luxurious siheyuan estate, lightning tore across the sky, illuminating the surroundings. A moment later, thunder crashed as if a war god were beating celestial drums in encouragement. The men in black crouched beneath the wall for a brief moment. Two figures who had been watching the estate all day hurried out of a nearby alley to meet them.

  “As we reported, the master left the city with his wives. Took plenty of guards with him.”

  “How many remain inside?”

  “We couldn’t find out. We looked in, but only saw servants.”

  “No one else came or left?”

  “No one, Boss.”

  “Good.” Zhang Ming raised his hand, signaling the assault.

  “Are you sure?” one of the former Mad Saber bandits tugged at his sleeve. “This belongs to a highly respected man in Baohe. There could be trouble afterward.”

  That’s exactly what I want, Zhang Ming thought, but aloud he only smiled. “Everything will be fine.”

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  In the next instant, he vaulted over the wall and shot toward the gates like an arrow. The guards had taken shelter from the rain inside the house, and the servants would not venture out into the storm, so the courtyard lay empty. Zhang Ming slid back the locking bar and threw the gates open, letting the raiders and bandits pour in.

  Like wolves scenting blood, they scattered across the courtyard in search of prey. Some rushed the main residence; others headed for the side buildings, granaries, and storage rooms. Lightning flashed again, briefly illuminating their greedy faces.

  Thunder roared overhead, drowning out the dying screams. Hearing the furious clash of weapons, Zhang Ming dashed toward the sound. Several capable guards had withstood the initial surprise and were shouting to raise the alarm. Like a cannon shot, Zhang Ming slammed into them at full speed. Their defensive formation collapsed, and the estate’s defenders were wounded.

  “Who are you? How dare you? Do you know whose house this is?” the head of the guards roared.

  “We do,” Zhang Ming replied. “The house of a thief, a murderer, and a rapist. Just a very wealthy one. The whole city knows.”

  “Shut your filthy mouth! How dare you!” The head guard drew his sword and attacked.

  He had been fortunate enough to reach the second stage of body tempering. Moreover, he possessed genuine martial skill and had full confidence in his strength, especially against common thieves. But Zhang Ming did not flinch and met him with even greater force. Though he did not know a true sword art, the shaggy drunk had taught him only the basics, his relentless training had forged a supple and powerful body.

  Blades flashed beneath the pouring rain. The head guard struck with speed and strength, backed by years of training and battle. Zhang Ming relied on cunning and superior speed to hold his ground. He kept moving, using obstacles, rolling across the mud, even hurling clods of earth while evading the swift sword.

  “Coward!” the man bellowed, wiping mud from his face with his sleeve. “Pathetic brat! Bastard! Son of a dog!”

  Their clash lasted mere moments, yet the courtyard had already become a churned mass of mud, severed branches, and shattered fragments of the stone statues lining the main path. Zhang Ming vaguely sensed a pattern in his opponent’s attacks, a set of techniques skillfully interwoven during the fight. Another minute of fierce combat passed evenly, but Zhang Ming possessed greater endurance and deeper reserves of Qi. The longer the battle dragged on, the more the balance tipped in his favor.

  Kicking a lump of mud into the man’s face, Zhang Ming slipped beneath a strike and drove his blade into the guard’s abdomen. The shock of pain shattered his balance, only for a brief instant, but it nearly cost him an arm. Blood streamed down his stomach, legs, and the torn sleeve of his robe. He tried to retreat, resorting to the same dirty tricks as his opponent to avoid the final blow, but Zhang Ming pursued relentlessly, giving him no chance to breathe.

  “Wretched bastard!” the head guard screamed.

  Lightning flared, illuminating his twisted face at the moment Zhang Ming’s sword pierced his heart. Under the deafening crash of thunder, the body fell onto the rain-soaked ground, blood mingling with the downpour.

  Zhang Ming lifted his face to the sky and exhaled sharply. He would have to survive many more such battles if he wished his plan to succeed.

  During the raid, his unit suffered minimal losses, only two dead bandits and several lightly wounded. The injured were bandaged and even given medicine found among the guards’ supplies. The estate was swiftly searched and turned upside down. The raiders moved fast, taking only the most valuable items. Two handcarts stood in the courtyard, small but fairly spacious, and they filled quickly with clothing, utensils, and chests of coins.

  The bandits and raiders feared their commander greatly, especially after witnessing such a dazzling fight. Reluctantly, they obeyed his order not to kill those who did not resist and merely bound them with whatever was at hand. Keeping away from the women proved more difficult. While Zhang Ming was not looking, some managed to grope a few maids, though they did not dare go further.

  “Sir, we can’t leave witnesses,” one bandit said, pointing at the bound servants. “Better to… you know…”

  Witnesses are exactly what I need. Who else will spread the rumors? Zhang Ming thought. Aloud, he spoke in a firm tone, “Everything will be fine. Don’t worry.”

  “Sir, we found a medicine storehouse,” reported a raider with cunning, narrowed eyes. “I think there’s plenty worth taking.”

  “Take it all. We’ll sort it out later. The night has only just begun. We have much to do.”

  After the battle, the thin barrier separating him from the third stage of body tempering had grown as fragile as dry bark. While the bandits stripped the great estate to the bone, Zhang Ming sat cross-legged on a spacious veranda, replaying the recent fight in his mind. The muscles in his jaw twitched with tension. Energy within him began to surge, rising in waves, then it shattered the flimsy barrier between stages. A dull explosion shook the veranda’s pillars and roof, and the damaged railing flew aside.

  “Uf-f-f…” Zhang Ming exhaled a plume of hot breath and opened his eyes. “The third stage…”