"Dog, fire the gun."
As Liu Tiezhu's command fell, the rifle's muzzle erupted with a dazzling spark. Before the bandit leader and the bandit to his right could grasp what was happening, bullets pierced their bodies, splattering blood across the ground. The remaining bandit's face twisted in shock, and without a word, he turned and fled. But the moment he spun around, a bamboo arrow lodged into his right leg, and inertia sent him crashing face-first into the dirt.
"Don't kill me! I'm a relative of the second-in-command of Tiangang Stronghold. If you kill me, Tiangang Stronghold will retaliate!"
Watching Liu Tiezhu approach step by step, the bandit screamed in terror.
Retaliate?
Liu Tiezhu sneered. "This is a desolate mountain. Who's to know I killed scum like you?"
With that, he calmly pulled the trigger of his compound crossbow. With a *swish*, the bamboo arrow pierced the bandit's skull, sending him to meet his ancestors.
Zhang Deshan swallowed hard, his eyes filled with deep fear.
"Take your horse and go."
Liu Tiezhu chose not to kill for plunder. Zhang Deshan was a mountain man, likely backed by some force. Liu Tiezhu wanted no extra trouble; letting Zhang Deshan go was the best move.
"Thank you, young brothers, for saving my life. I, Zhang Deshan, will never forget this debt of gratitude. May I ask your names, so my Tianfang Tribe can find you and repay you someday?"
Zhang Deshan's words carried a strong air of the martial world.
Tribe?
Hearing this, Liu Tiezhu and Er Gouzi exchanged looks of utter disbelief. What era was this, still having tribes? Could Zhang Deshan's people have been living deep in the mountains all along?
"Brother Zhang, I'm Liu Tiezhu, and this is my younger brother, Liu Er Gou. You said you're from the Tianfang Tribe—do your people really live in the deep mountains?"
Zhang Deshan nodded. "That's right. My tribe moved into the deep mountains in the late Qing dynasty. After the First World War broke out, to avoid casualties, my people never came out again. We live by hunting, farm our own land, and grow crops. Recently, with the snow disaster, crops couldn't survive, so I brought wild game into town to trade for grain. I never expected to run into a traitor from the tribe on the way back."
Liu Tiezhu listened, stunned. The late Qing dynasty spanned 1840 to 1912. The First World War started in 1914. That was nearly a century ago. In other words, Zhang Deshan's tribe had a heritage spanning hundreds of years. Liu Tiezhu never imagined such an ancient tribe still hidden deep in the mountains.
"Brother Zhang, it's getting late. We need to head back. Is your leg injury okay?" Liu Tiezhu asked.
"It's nothing serious." Zhang Deshan waved a hand, limped over to his horse, and took a small cloth pouch from the saddle. "Brother Liu, I came in a hurry and didn't bring anything good. This pouch has medicine that can cure many poisons. If you don't mind, take it."
As Zhang Deshan handed over the pouch, he also removed a wooden token from his belt. "This is my tribe's token. If you ever run into trouble, take this, follow this road north, and go deep. There are lookouts from my tribe along the way. Just shout my name, and someone will stop you, ask what's wrong, and lead you into the tribe."
"Brother Zhang, I won't stand on ceremony. We'll meet again if there's a chance."
Liu Tiezhu took Zhang Deshan's items, then led the bandit's horse away.
Back at the mule's location, Liu Tiezhu and Er Gouzi worked together to load all the sacks from the horse onto the cart. Er Gouzi pointed at the three tall, sturdy horses and asked, "Brother Tiezhu, what do we do with these horses?"
"Find a hidden spot to tie them up. We'll take them to the stone cave tomorrow," Liu Tiezhu said.
Such fine horses couldn't just be let go. Letting those horses loose in the village had been unavoidable. Here, there was no worry about the bandits tracking them down. Even if the bandits found the horses, they wouldn't know who killed their men. The area was thick with weeds as tall as a man, making it hard for the bandits to locate the horses.
The two tied the horses up in a concealed patch of weeds before driving the mule home. With the lush vegetation, the horses wouldn't go hungry or cold.
After the mule cart had traveled some distance, Er Gouzi said, "Brother Tiezhu, do you think Zhang Deshan's story is reliable? Moving into the deep mountains in the late Qing dynasty—I feel like it's a bit far-fetched."
Liu Tiezhu replied, "Judging by his words and actions, it should be true. Besides, he has no reason to make up a story to fool us."
Two hours later, the mule cart arrived home safely.
"Did you get some good haul?" Uncle couldn't help asking, eyeing the bulging sacks on the cart.
"Let's talk inside." Liu Tiezhu said, pulling the mule in and tying it up.
Everyone worked together to carry the five sacks into the main hall.
"What's in these sacks? Doesn't seem like game," Liu Tieshan asked.
"I don't know either," Er Gouzi said.
Hearing this, Uncle and Big Brother were baffled.
"Aren't these the game you hunted?" Liu Tieshan asked.
"Big Brother, these are from the bandits."
Liu Tiezhu didn't hide anything and recounted how he and Er Gouzi had encountered the bandits at the foot of the mountain.
Uncle and the others listened, amazed. They never imagined such an ancient tribe was hidden deep in the mountains.
"Big Brother, Uncle, let's set aside the ancient tribe matter for now. Open the sacks and see what's inside," Liu Tiezhu said.
Snapping back to reality, Uncle and the others opened the first sack. What met their eyes were several pieces of dried meat. Beneath the meat were dried vegetables, bamboo shoots, canned goods, and all sorts of odds and ends. Big Brother opened the second sack; its contents were mostly the same. The third and fourth sacks held similar items. The four sacks of grain totaled about three hundred jin, enough to last the family and the dog for a week.
The fifth sack was the lightest of the five. Uncle hefted it in his hand, and a metallic clinking sound came from inside.
"Is it bullets?"
Hearing the sound, Liu Tiezhu grew excited. If it was bullets, this half-sack could hold several hundred rounds. What did several hundred rounds mean? Enough for him to shoot freely for half a year without conserving ammo.
"Uncle, open it quick!"
Snapping out of it, Liu Tiezhu said excitedly.
Er Gouzi couldn't help urging, "Dad, don't just stand there! Open it and see!"
Uncle immediately untied the sack's opening.
"This... holy crap..."
Everyone's eyes locked onto the contents of the sack, and they all cursed in unison.