Chapter 27 Where There’s a Will, There’s a Way

Chapter 27: Where There's a Will, There's a Way

Jing Su, leading over two hundred men, reached Jing Xun’s main forces in a valley by sunset after a day-long forced march.

After settling his troops, he consulted with his uncle. About half an hour later, he returned to camp with a serene expression.

Using the terrain for cover, a night raid seemed plausible.

However, this was Black Tiger Stronghold territory, and its inhabitants were far more familiar with the landscape, making a night raid significantly riskier.

Jing Su didn't hide anything from him. "Wenwen, my uncle and I have decided: we're raiding Black Tiger Stronghold tonight."

"Tonight?" Duan Lingwen’s heart tightened.

He had naturally assumed that, with the army just reunited and everyone weary, a night of rest would be necessary before any action could be taken the next day.

"Yes," Jing Su nodded gently, explaining, "I know the Black Tiger Stronghold's terrain well. Even if things go awry, we can still retreat safely."

Duan Lingwen was worried but found it hard to voice his concerns. In the end, his myriad thoughts condensed into a single plea: "Then... be careful."

Time was short, so Jing Su said no more. He moved aside, lit a few candles with a flint, and the flickering warm light instantly dispelled the gloom in a corner of the tent. Placing the candle holder on a low table, he said softly, "The light is dim; it will strain your eyes. Don't read for too long. Rest when you're tired. I'll be back soon."

"Okay," Duan Lingwen replied softly.

Outside the tent, someone was already calling, "Sir!"

Jing Su gave a few more instructions, then quickly strode out of the tent.

But just as the tent flap was halfway open, he paused. The next moment, he turned back.

"What's wrong?" Duan Lingwen was startled.

Jing Su took a large step closer, wrapped an arm around him, and pulled him into an embrace, placing a soft kiss on Duan Lingwen’s brow.

"Wait for me to return."

With that, Jing Su released him and turned to leave. Duan Lingwen stood there, stunned, the warmth of the kiss still lingering on his forehead.

After Jing Su left, Duan Lingwen sat alone in the tent, but found himself unable to focus on the words in the book.

Night fell, and the mountain wind grew sharper.

At the sloping path behind Black Tiger Stronghold, Jing Su led over thirty men. Under the cover of darkness, they silently neutralized the sentries and infiltrated the stronghold.

Everything unfolded as Jing Su had predicted. Black Tiger Stronghold's main force was occupied by Jing Xun’s feigned attack, leaving the rear vulnerable.

Jing Su led his men directly to the main stronghold. Amidst the chaos, Jing Su immediately spotted the burly leader—Peng Heihu.

At that moment, Peng Heihu, wielding a heavy demon-head blade, was locked in combat with several men.

With his powerful build and immense strength, Peng Heihu held his own against multiple attackers, none of whom could gain an advantage.

Jing Su frowned and shouted sharply, "Peng Heihu!"

Hearing the call, Peng Heihu turned, his eyes blazing with a bloodthirsty glare. "Just in time!"

He roared, swinging the demon-head blade with both hands, bringing it down with a force capable of splitting mountains.

Jing Su sidestepped, narrowly avoiding the strike as the heavy blade grazed his arm. Peng Heihu twisted his body and swung again, his speed forcing Jing Su to parry with his sword.

With a clang, sparks flew, and both men felt a jolt of numbness in their hands.

In an instant, they were entangled in a fierce dance of blades and swords.

Peng Heihu's moves were broad and powerful, while Jing Su primarily defended, aiming to exhaust Peng Heihu's stamina.

"A rat who only knows how to dodge!" Peng Heihu, frustrated by his inability to land a hit, roared in anger, his attacks growing wilder. He suddenly swept his blade horizontally, attempting to force Jing Su back.

But Jing Su seemed to have anticipated this. Instead of retreating, he ducked low and swiftly advanced, almost sliding along the ground to slip to Peng Heihu’s side. With a twist of his wrist, his long sword slashed upward, opening a deep cut on Peng Heihu’s arm.

Peng Heihu grunted in pain, nearly dropping his demon-head blade. Enraged by the agony, his ferocity erupted, his movements becoming even faster and more vicious.

But Jing Su seemed to know his every move. The moment Peng Heihu lunged, Jing Su deftly shifted to his side and rear. At that instant, his left leg swept out, precisely kicking Peng Heihu’s injured arm.

Reeling from the heavy blow, Peng Heihu stumbled.

Jing Su switched from defense to offense, targeting Peng Heihu’s weak points—his arms, joints, and lower body. Peng Heihu stumbled forward and fell to his knees. He struggled to rise, but his movements grew increasingly sluggish.

Finally, the edge of Jing Su’s sword pressed against the back of his neck, freezing all his movements.

At the same time, Deng Tong’s main force surged forward, encircling the entire Black Tiger Stronghold.

"You've lost," Jing Su said solemnly. "Considering your abilities and the hardships you've faced, I can offer you and your men a path to survival."

"Hah!" Peng Heihu spat, his neck stiff with defiance as he cursed, "You bastards! Kill me if you want! I've been waiting for this day for a long time!"

Jing Su frowned slightly, guessing that Peng Heihu had mistaken them for the Yu Army.

The second-in-command of Black Tiger Stronghold scrambled over in a panic, urgently pleading, "We surrender, we surrender! Spare our leader!"

Looking at the devastation around the stronghold, Peng Heihu threw his head back and laughed a bitter laugh, then suddenly changed his tone. "Fine... I surrender."

However, as he feigned submission, a poisoned dagger slipped from his sleeve, and he thrust it backward toward Jing Su’s abdomen.

Fortunately, Jing Su remained vigilant. Sidestepping the attack, he redirected his sword between Peng Heihu’s arms, forcefully altering the dagger's trajectory.

The dagger ended up stabbing Peng Heihu in the side. The wound was not deep, but soon, a trickle of black blood seeped from the blade.

Seeing this, the second-in-command hurriedly pulled out a small ceramic vial. "Big brother! Take the antidote, quick!"

But Peng Heihu pushed him away and shook his head. Kneeling on the ground, he looked down at the wound and smiled bitterly, as if finally freed.

The poison acted quickly. Peng Heihu vomited a mouthful of black blood but stubbornly gripped the second-in-command’s hand, every word thick with blood. "Second brother... listen! Take... take everyone and live on. No matter what... you must live well."

The second-in-command’s eyes turned red with panic. "Big brother! The antidote is right here! We've surrendered, why must you..."

"It's no use..." Peng Heihu interrupted him. "Over the years, we've robbed corrupt officials... but we've also harmed innocents. The Black Tiger Stronghold... should have disbanded long ago..."

With that, he clenched his teeth, refusing to take the antidote, until his pupils dilated and he gradually lost his breath.

The Black Tiger Stronghold had started as a group that robbed the rich to aid the poor. But as times grew harder and people’s hearts turned cold, they had resorted to oppressing ordinary folk to survive.

Yet, who would have thought that over a decade ago, Peng Heihu had despised bullies who abused their power the most.

Over a decade ago, Peng Heihu was still Peng Tiezhu, a man who had just retired from the border troops, full of sincerity and ideals. What he hated most were the petty officials who exploited villagers with their authority and the soldiers who committed atrocities and plundered recklessly.

Perhaps because trouble hadn't found him yet, he still dreamed of returning home from the northern frontier, taking good care of his parents, preparing a dowry for his sister, marrying a wife, and living a peaceful life with his family.

However, when he returned home, he found that his parents had been driven out of their livelihood by a local tyrant and forced to write a blood-written petition to the authorities. Yet, with the collusion between officials and merchants, the county magistrate took a liking to their fifteen-year-old sister. With a mere snap of his fingers, he had her abducted to his residence.

His sister, unyielding in spirit, resisted unto death and was driven to throw herself into a well. His parents, unable to seek justice, were falsely accused by the magistrate on a trivial pretext, thrown into prison, and starved to death.

Even when Peng Heihu later beat the drum of grievance and submitted countless petitions, they all vanished without a trace.

The collusion between officials and merchants, and the mutual protection among officials, ultimately drove the people to rebellion!

These events were rumors Jing Su had heard from the streets in his previous life, after subduing the Black Tiger Stronghold.

Peng Heihu was also a man with a tragic fate. In the beginning, when he robbed corrupt officials and resisted corrupt clerks, one might say he still retained a shred of righteousness.

But later, the Black Tiger Stronghold had strayed from the path. They began to rob homes and loot households, plunder merchants, and extort innocent people. They had rebelled against an unjust world but ended up creating new injustices.

At this moment, Deng Tong approached and reported, "Young Master, there are 103 people left in the stronghold, all disarmed and surrendered."

Jing Su sheathed his sword and instructed, "Deng Tong, separate and guard these people. Treat the wounded. Also, inventory the stronghold's money, grain, and supplies, and record them in a register. And—"

Before he could finish, a figure suddenly lunged forward—it was the grief-stricken second-in-command. He snatched the poisoned dagger, his eyes bloodshot, and charged recklessly at Jing Su, roaring, "You dog! Avenge my elder brother!"

Deng Tong and the guards reacted swiftly, drawing their swords to intercept him.

"Lu Wenfang!" Jing Su suddenly called out his name.

At the sound of his name, the second-in-command froze mid-action, the dagger halting in the air as he stared at Jing Su in disbelief.

Jing Su continued, "Originally from Yingyang, an accountant for Master Su of the Jishan Hall. Am I right?"

The second-in-command, Lu Wenfang, was thunderstruck, his body trembling violently. His hand, holding the dagger, began to shake uncontrollably. This name and identity were secrets he had buried for years, known to few even within the stronghold.

"How... how do you know...?" he asked hoarsely, unable to believe it.

Jing Su ignored the question and continued, "A few years ago, the Su family was falsely accused of colluding with rebels, and their entire household was executed. You refused to bear false witness against your employer, so the bailiffs broke your right hand and threw you into prison. The Su family's property was entirely seized by corrupt officials. Later, you escaped from prison and were forced to become an outlaw. Am I right?"

Lu Wenfang staggered back, the dagger clattering to the ground. "How... how do you know all this?!"

These were things he had rarely spoken of to anyone.

Jing Su, of course, could not say that these events were told to him by Lu Wenfang himself.

Jing Su did not explain further, only saying, "We are righteous rebels, not agents of the court."

With that, he glanced at Peng Heihu lying in a pool of blood. "Peng Heihu's death was not entirely my doing. For him, today's outcome may have been a form of liberation."

"You're twisting the truth!" Lu Wenfang shouted angrily. Peng Heihu had shown him great kindness and loyalty, and he was determined to avenge him.

"Between you and me, there is indeed bloodshed involving our men. But the true culprits are this corrupt dynasty and those greedy, lawless officials who trample on human lives. We share a common enemy." Having said this, Jing Su said no more and immediately instructed Deng Tong to arrange for the prisoners' custody.

Lu Wenfang wanted to press further but was restrained and bound.

By then, the moon had reached its zenith, and torches blazed on Black Tiger Mountain.

After successfully subduing the Black Tiger Stronghold, Jing Su hurried down the mountain. Deng Tong followed closely, his mind filled with doubts. Finally, he asked, "Young Master, how did you know about that man's background?"

Jing Su smiled. "Someone told me."

"Who?"

Jing Su did not answer directly. Instead, he suddenly stopped and looked at Deng Tong seriously. "Deng Tong."

"Here!" Deng Tong straightened his posture immediately.

Jing Su said, "The Black Tiger Stronghold has been taken. Go to the central command tent at once and report this matter in detail to my uncle."

"Yes!" Deng Tong replied. But as he watched Jing Su quicken his pace down the mountain, he asked in confusion, "Young Master, where are you going?"

Usually, Jing Su would report to General Jing Xun immediately. Why was he in such a hurry today?

Yet Jing Su did not pause, quickly disappearing from sight.

Inside the tent, Duan Lingwen was reclining on the couch, resting with his eyes closed, when the book in his hand suddenly fell. He opened his eyes abruptly.

Instinctively, he glanced toward the tent entrance.

Still not back...

After picking up the book, he felt restless and decided to get up, pushing aside the tent flap to step outside.

The night was as cool as water, and the valley echoed with the mournful sound of the wind.

He looked toward Black Tiger Mountain, where distant flames flickered atop the peak, though the details were unclear. He stood there for a long time, but still, no returning figure appeared. Eventually, he turned and went back inside.

He had just reached the low table and had yet to sit down when hurried footsteps sounded behind him.

Hearing the noise, Duan Lingwen turned to see the tent flap flung open, letting in a chill night breeze and a faint scent of blood. In the next moment, before he could even clearly see the newcomer's face, he was swept into an embrace.

"I'm back," Jing Su whispered in his ear.

As if realizing his light armor might press into the person in his arms, Jing Su loosened his hold slightly and quickly removed his armor.

His movements were almost urgent. Once the armor was off, he wore only dark, close-fitting attire, his figure appearing even more upright and less imposing without the battlefield's severity.

"Are you hurt?" Duan Lingwen asked worriedly.

Before he had even finished speaking, Jing Su answered with action.

Jing Su strode forward, lifted him by the waist, and carried him to the couch, then leaned down over him.

Duan Lingwen tilted his head back slightly. The candlelight behind Jing Su cast a hazy glow, making him feel both flustered and inexplicably at ease.

He looked at Jing Su's face and noticed what seemed like a smear of blood on his cheekbone. Instinctively, he reached out, thinking he was injured there.

But the moment his fingers lightly touched Jing Su's cheek, Jing Su's eyes suddenly brightened, as if all his fatigue had vanished.

He caught Duan Lingwen's wrist as he tried to pull back, pressing his cheek firmly into his palm. "I missed you..." he murmured softly.

They had only been apart for a little over two hours.

Duan Lingwen's ears warmed slightly. "I'm glad you're not hurt," he said.

"Wenwen..." Jing Su called softly.

"Hmm?"

"Hmm..."

The candlelight flickered, filling the tent with silence broken only by the crackling of the flame and... the unmistakable, intimate sound of moist lips meeting.

Gradually, their breaths grew ragged, parting briefly only to eagerly reunite again and again.