Chapter 26: Sparrow Severs the Flying Dragon (Part 2): I Can Hear You Part 2

Everyone wore red headscarves embroidered with dragon patterns, and triangular flags with the same design were everywhere in the stronghold.

Seeing the two behind him climb the sheer wall without even breathing hard, Li Cheng looked back with suspicion and asked the person beside him, “Where’s the stronghold leader?”

A stronghold bandit replied, “Waiting in the main hall.”

Li Cheng said, “Let’s go. Deliver them there to avoid trouble.”

He went behind the two and beckoned to his men for two ropes, binding the man and woman’s hands one after another. To prevent mishaps, he personally watched them head to the main hall, checking for any suspicious behavior. After a few steps, he asked again, “Is Deputy Miao there too?”

The man beside him replied, “Yes.”

Li Cheng understood and seemed to relax a bit as he urged the two deeper into the stronghold.

Climbing up too easily had indeed aroused his suspicion. Otherwise, he wouldn’t bind them on the way back. Mu Qian Tan sneered inwardly; she had already decided who to use this rope on later—the one now tied around her own hands.

Jiang Yuanqi’s gaze drifted aimlessly, his expression calm.

Li Cheng knew nothing of the two ahead’s thoughts and just diligently hurried them along.

On the way to the prison, Mu Qian Tan noted the stronghold’s layout. Every area was strictly and clearly divided, each stronghold bandit busy with tasks like farming, forging weapons, and so on—not like typical disorganized mountain bandits. The one who arranged all this was probably the “Deputy Miao” the bandit had mentioned earlier.

Deputy Miao was the deputy leader Miao Cunfu. He was short as a stump and ugly beyond measure. From childhood, he had been cursed as poor, ugly, and ignorant, with no money, no face, no father, no mother—none of the world’s goods had befallen him. Too frail even to farm, he couldn’t even support himself.

Though clever and quick-witted, his poor conditions barred the proper official path, leaving him depressed daily. Unexpectedly, he caught the eye of Dao Liangduan, who wasn’t yet the leader then. Overnight, he transformed into the advisor, often devising plans for him, strategizing for the stronghold’s development, and contributing greatly to Flying Dragon Stronghold’s rise.

Recalling his past, bitterness filled his heart, yet he took the insults others hurled at him and made them his title, adding “Miao” for “wonderful rustic.”

The two—one civil, one martial—complemented each other, quickly turning Flying Dragon Stronghold into a scourge on the region.

The group arrived at the main hall. Before entering, angry cursing and a particularly gruff roar that nearly flipped the roof echoed from inside. Li Cheng knocked and reported their arrival. The cursing didn’t stop, but the door cracked open. An exceedingly ugly man showed half his face. Seeing the bound hostages, he was displeased but, mindful of the person inside, said nothing and just made way for them.

The door was opened, and Li Cheng urged them inside. It was as if the room hadn’t been aired out for eight hundred years; it was filled with a warm, stuffy stench. The floor was covered with dry beast hides, and two rows of candles burned nearby. On the main seat sat a man with a red headscarf whose development had gone overboard—armor covered his body, his skin was bronze, and his face was full of ferocity.

This was the stronghold leader of Flying Dragon Stronghold, Dao Liangduan.

“Got the people?”

Li Cheng cupped his fists. “Yes, Stronghold Leader. All grabbed from the village below.”

Miao Cunfu asked him, “Did the officers see you?”

Li Cheng said, “We didn’t run into any.”

“What are you asking him for? If we ran into them, so be it. Let’s see whose blade is sharper. If we don’t go out, they’ll think I’m afraid of them.” After Dao Liangduan angrily cursed, he finally turned his attention downward.

His gaze swept over the room, seemingly dissatisfied with the number of people, but having some was better than none. He stroked his large blade a few times and roughly said, “Now that you’ve grabbed the people, hurry and send a letter. Have their village raise money—make it high, and give them only two days. Otherwise, tie these people’s corpses together with dogs and throw them back.”

“Stronghold Leader, using us to exchange for money won’t get you anything,” Jiang Yuanqi laughed. “We’re not from the village; we’re just passing through. Who would bankrupt themselves for a few strangers?”

Miao Cunfu saw that though he was clearly trapped, there wasn’t a trace of panic on his face, and his tone and demeanor were extraordinary—not an ordinary person at all. He suddenly felt something was wrong and was just about to ask about their origins when a steel blade shot from the main seat, embedding straight into the floor beside that young master’s feet. Dao Liangduan stood up, his bulging body expanding. “You still dare to dodge?”

Jiang Yuanqi steadied Shang Shan on his shoulder and shook his head. “No, you’re wronging me.”

Dao Liangduan strode over with overwhelming momentum and struck a palm toward the young master, but unexpectedly, it was like hitting water—missing the substance entirely, merely grazing the man’s shoulder.

Jiang Yuanqi subtly avoided the palm, glanced at the arm now across his chest, and a barely detectable flash of disgust crossed his face. He took a step back with a smile. “Don’t resort to violence, Stronghold Leader. We’re no match for a brave warrior like you.”

Though Miao Cunfu couldn’t follow his movements, he knew this was definitely no ordinary person. He grabbed Dao Liangduan’s arm before he could react and ordered, “Men, take these three down! Lock them up!”

Li Cheng waited behind the group and heard the order but didn’t carry it out. Instead, he looked toward Dao Liangduan. The burly man shook off Miao Cunfu. “What are you doing, blocking me!”

Miao Cunfu knew reasoning with this barbarian was pointless, so he said, “Didn’t you hear? We grabbed the wrong ones—they’re not from the village. What money do you think we can get from them?”

Dao Liangduan said, “How do you know they’re not from the village?”

Miao Cunfu said, “I know roughly what the villagers look like. Take a good look at them—do they seem like something a rural family could raise? Who knows, maybe they’re runaways playing around. Better to avoid trouble than invite it. Why provoke them?”

Though Dao Liangduan had a fiery temper, he was willing to heed advice on this matter. Thinking about getting no money in exchange soured his mood further, with faint signs of anger brewing.

Fearing he’d take his anger out on him, Li Cheng averted his gaze, pressed down on Jiang Yuanqi, and prepared to escort them to the cells. Before the three left, they heard Miao Cunfu say, “I say we should just wait honestly for the officers to withdraw. We’re self-sufficient; they can’t outlast us.”

“What self-sufficiency? You mean farming? Farm, farm, farm your mother’s farm—we’re bandits! Not peasants!”

“…If you want to kidnap someone, I have another method….”

The door closed, and the voices faded. Mu Qian Tan followed behind Li Cheng and couldn’t help recalling this segment from the original plot.

When it came to those two—one civil, one martial—developing the stronghold, things started off very steadily. But it didn’t last. Miao Cunfu’s talents became too obvious, and the stronghold’s people seemed to listen to him more, greatly displeasing Dao Liangduan, who felt his authority was being coveted. He gave Miao Cunfu no good face thereafter and even often found reasons to discipline him.

That was tolerable, but he rejected most of Miao Cunfu’s suggestions outright.

Miao Cunfu was a cautious man. He repeatedly advised Dao Liangduan not to go too far—killing too many brought no benefits, one should leave a line in dealings, and it was best to bribe the local officials for protection from the government. But he got scolded and told why they should give money to those bird officials, so he stopped mentioning it.

Thus, the stronghold fell into its current predicament—though they didn’t have to worry about officers charging in, they were besieged and couldn’t get out.

There were hundreds in the stronghold, all needing to eat daily. In recent years, the officers had grown more numerous, surrounding them outside. Unable to go out meant no resupply, and the stronghold’s reserves would eventually run out. Though they could farm and conditions were favorable, if the harvest couldn’t keep up with consumption, hunger would inevitably descend.

If pushed to that point, they’d lose all initiative.

At such a time, Dao Liangduan’s solution was to send a small team out to resume their old trade of kidnapping for quick, big money—drain this area’s wealth dry, then relocate. No need to waste time.

Miao Cunfu wanted stability, believing any proactive move was dangerous and they should seek another way. He got directly kicked out of the room, door slammed shut.

One couldn’t confront a brute-force lunatic head-on, but Miao Cunfu had a clever plan. Risking a beating, he persuaded Dao Liangduan to try another method—the one just cut off by the door.

The subsequent plot stemmed from that method.

Jiang Yuanqi suddenly chuckled softly. “Lucky break.”

Mu Qian Tan glanced at him, knowing what he was thinking.

In that short time, he had already observed the discord between the two leaders. A rift had appeared between power and power, making the entire system fragile—giving a saboteur like him an opening.

Amid these thoughts, the three were dragged to the prison area.

It was a square stone building made of stacked stones, connected to several side by side, divided in the middle by wooden bars. The floor was covered in straw splattered with spots of blood. Only the innermost cell held two half-dead people; the others were empty for now.

The stronghold bandits fastened iron chains on the two separately, locking them in different cells, while the unconscious Shang Shan wasn’t bound and was casually tossed beside Mu Qian Tan.

Once the cell door was confirmed locked, the stronghold bandits left. Li Cheng gave them a warning glance before departing. Mu Qian Tan sat against the wall, and once the people were far away, she circulated her spiritual power, directly snapping the iron lock and freeing her wrists, now red-marked. She rubbed her palms.

Jiang Yuanqi, in the adjacent cell, saw this and wore an “as expected” expression. He smiled. “Miss, you’re really hiding your depths—snapping refined iron barehanded. Looks like you’re a martial artist.”

Mu Qian Tan said, “You too.”

Grid-like sunlight filtered through the bars onto the straw, and a sour stench filled the air. She lightly fanned her nose, then frowned silently after her retort.

Now that she was very close to the male protagonist, it was time to consider how to seize his protagonist luck.

The prerequisite for action was still dealing with surveillance, but the method of blinding herself last time clearly wouldn’t work here.

This meant hiding her intentions was impossible; better to state them outright.

But she couldn’t act rashly. She wasn’t sure if Li Biyuan had a way to summon a new soul from the modern world to replace her if she went too far. So she needed to secure her position first before doing anything else.

How to make Li Biyuan afraid to casually replace her?

Mu Qian Tan pondered for a moment, her long lashes trembling slightly. She reached out, pulled the prone Shang Shan onto her lap, letting her back rest against her knee, and supported her head in the crook of her arm.

Confirming Jiang Yuanqi couldn’t see from behind, she tugged open Shang Shan’s collar, exposing her chest, then took out a talisman brush from her storage pouch.

She gripped the brush tightly, held her breath in concentration, pressed her fingertip into the wound on her collarbone, reopening it. The sting made her shoulder twitch instinctively, making the collarbone more prominent as blood surged out.

Sweat beaded on her neck. Mu Qian Tan slowly exhaled, her grip on the bamboo talisman brush so tight her fingertips paled until the pain eased, returning to pale pink.