Chapter Fifty-Six: Western Goods

Inside the chest lay a heap of swords and blades, their forms and the patterns carved into their hilts clearly unlike the standard-issue weapons of Great Liang. What astonished Qi Jun was not only these swords, but the matchlock gun resting atop them.

Qi Jun picked up the firearm and examined it closely. Tied to the stock was a bulging cloth pouch containing some ammunition. The designs engraved on the gunstock resembled those on the swords, suggesting they were made in the same place.

The bandits evidently had no idea how to use the gun, or they wouldn’t have left the ammunition with it all this time.

Sun Jiu noticed Qi Jun standing speechless before the chest for quite a while. He tossed aside the half-filled money pouch, curiosity piqued, and came over to peer over Qi Jun’s shoulder.

“How did these Western goods end up in a bandit’s lair?”

Anything from the Western Regions was known as “Western goods.” Sun Jiu exclaimed in surprise as soon as he recognized them.

“You know these items too?” Qi Jun was startled, thinking Sun Jiu had recognized the matchlock in his hands.

“That odd-looking iron stick you’re holding, I don’t know. But the swords in this chest are all from the Western Regions.” Sun Jiu picked up a short sword and admired it with a sigh of praise.

If these weapons truly hailed from the West, both the forging quality of the swords and the development of the matchlock gun showed the Western Regions had already surpassed Great Liang in arms manufacture by a wide margin—they were no longer even on the same level.

“How can you tell they’re from the Western Regions?” Qi Jun frowned, suspecting Sun Jiu was speaking carelessly.

“Last year, a merchant from the Western Regions passed through Anqiang and went to pay respects to Master Feng at the county garrison, bringing him a sword from the West and other gifts in hopes the county would assign soldiers to escort his caravan out. That sword was exquisitely made, its edge razor-sharp. Master Feng was so taken with it that he brought it to the barracks for us all to admire and handle.” Sun Jiu recollected.

“In that case, these weapons must truly be of Western make. They were probably hidden here at Panlong Ridge because the bandits had plundered a Western caravan,” Qi Jun mused. His earlier doubts were now resolved.

“I just remembered—some years back, a caravan from the West was ambushed by bandits in Hongni Valley. Over a dozen were killed,” Sun Jiu recalled, setting down the short sword. “The Western merchants’ guild sent someone to the Ding’an prefecture to demand Governor Zhao eliminate the bandits, but the court was busy fighting the Rouran at the time and had no mind for such matters. After some delay, the whole thing was dropped.”

Sun Jiu might not have realized it, but Qi Jun, hearing this, immediately understood. Since Panlong Ridge was a force fostered by Governor Zhao in Anqiang, the incident must have involved him as well.

Most likely, Governor Zhao coveted the Western goods and secretly ordered the bandits of Panlong Ridge to carry out the ambush.

When the Western merchants appealed, it was as if they were asking Governor Zhao to investigate himself. If he had truly wiped out the bandits as they demanded, that would have been a miracle.

Clearly, the bandits of Panlong Ridge had not handed over all the loot. What was in these chests was probably what Red-Eye Eagle had kept for himself.

“Sir, we should go up now, before we draw suspicion. We can quietly load everything onto carts tonight and move it out. What do you think?” Sun Jiu suggested after some thought.

“That’s best, to be safe. Let’s go up first,” Qi Jun agreed, taking the matchlock gun with him and closing the chest. He had little interest in the remaining boxes, which presumably held gold and silver.

All he wanted now was a chance to examine the matchlock gun in detail.

The two men left, carefully replaced the floor tiles to conceal the entrance to the tunnel, and made their way out of the house.

“It seems the bandit woman spoke truthfully. I’m curious, what method did you use to make her confess so easily?” Qi Jun asked, stopping when he saw they were alone.

“Oh, it was nothing difficult,” Sun Jiu replied with a chuckle, brushing dust from his clothes. “She values money and wouldn’t talk, so I threatened something more precious to her than riches.”

“What could be more important than that?” Qi Jun couldn’t guess and urged Sun Jiu to continue.

“What else? Her son,” Sun Jiu grinned, enjoying the attention. “That bandit woman had a child with Red-Eye Eagle after coming up the mountain with him. The boy is already in his teens.”

“I threatened her, saying if she didn’t confess, I’d hang her son and carve him up piece by piece, then make her collect the flesh in a jar!” Sun Jiu glanced toward the place where the bandit woman was held, speaking lightly. “The moment she heard that, she went mad with terror, sobbing and pleading for mercy. After that, she confessed to everything!”

Sun Jiu was truly ruthless. Qi Jun frowned and asked, “And what about the boy? You didn’t actually plan to do that, did you?”

“Sir, I was only frightening her. Besides, her son was already killed that night, struck by a rock while fleeing with the bandits. She doesn’t know it yet.”

At this, Sun Jiu’s expression grew serious. He drew closer and asked, “Sir, speaking of those rocks, what weapon did you use that night? It brought down the gate in one blow and killed a band of bandits in an instant. It was incredible…”

“Go ask Liu Fuyuan,” Qi Jun replied with a faint smile, turning to leave.

“Sir…” Sun Jiu realized Qi Jun didn’t wish to answer. Since there was no use asking Liu Fuyuan, he could only sigh and suppress his curiosity.

Just then, the cart sent to the county to purchase supplies returned, loaded with bolts of cloth. A few county soldiers were helping unload the goods.

Accompanying them was a woman, introduced as a well-known seamstress in the county. She had been brought along knowing the cloth was intended for the women’s clothing.

“Thank you! You’ve done well, and this cloth is suitable,” Qi Jun nodded, tossing the copper coins he’d brought from the tunnel to the soldier who had escorted the cart.

“Thank you, sir! If you need anything, just ask,” the soldier replied gratefully, delighted.

The women, skilled in sewing and weaving, were overjoyed to see the piles of cloth. When told it was all for making them new clothes, they rushed forward, each eagerly choosing the fabric she liked best.

The county soldiers, trying to keep order, were nearly swept aside, calling out, “Don’t fight, there’s enough for everyone, one at a time,” but to little effect.

Once the cloth was divided, the women crowded around the seamstress and followed her inside, cutting and sewing their chosen fabrics under her guidance.

As dusk fell, the seamstress completed her work and prepared to leave. The women emerged, each clad in new garments, their faces bright with joy.

Gone were the expressions of sorrow and hardship—just one new, well-fitted dress had brought a newfound hope for the future to their faces.

Qi Jun noticed the change in their moods and complexions and nodded in satisfaction.

“By the way, where’s Deng Fang? I haven’t seen him all afternoon,” Qi Jun suddenly remembered. He and Sun Jiu had gone into the tunnel without calling him, and he hadn’t been seen since.

“Young Master Deng left after lunch, riding down the mountain. He said something about looking for someone in the county,” a soldier recalled, slapping his forehead. “He told me to let you know, but I couldn’t find you and then got busy and forgot.”

“He must have gone to find his three disciples,” Qi Jun immediately guessed. Deng Fang was always impulsive—whatever came to mind, he did. Qi Jun shook his head helplessly.

“Captain Sun! Bad news—the bandits are coming!”

A soldier came running, breathless.

“What?” Sun Jiu could hardly believe his ears. “Bandits? Are you sure? Who would dare come to Panlong Ridge now?”

“Tell us clearly—how many? Where are they now?” Qi Jun demanded, a sense of foreboding rising in his chest as he grasped the soldier by the shoulder.

“They’ve already passed Shizui Cliff and are halfway up the mountain! There’s a whole crowd—at least a hundred strong!” the soldier gasped, recounting what he had seen.

“This is bad! Shut the drawgate and prepare for battle!” Qi Jun realized the gravity of the situation, his heart sinking as darkness fell.