Chapter 78: Has Zhao Yinling Entered?

Having accepted the gifts from the benevolent Master Xue and seen that old busybody off, Li Yuanjing's expression remained calm, betraying nothing. Yet how could his heart remain unshaken? Master Xue had already sent someone to Cold Mountain to look for the third boss. This meant... the matter of the third boss’s “disappearance” would soon be brought out into the open.

But Li Yuanjing quickly regained his composure. All traces that could be wiped clean had been dealt with in advance; he had already set up the image of a victim, and laid enough groundwork for contingencies. There was no sense in panicking now—better to keep his patience, tend to his own affairs, and wait for events to unfold.

With these thoughts, Li Yuanjing dismissed his worries. He called the old village chief to help distribute the fat pig among the villagers, then grabbed his hoe and went to work in the trenches. What better relief for anxiety than a good bout of hard, sweaty labor?

...

That evening, as Li Yuanjing savored piping hot, tender stewed venison and basked in Yuniang’s gentle affection, Xue’s trusted steward—Steward Xue Si—had already arrived smoothly at Cold Mountain. He soon met with Boss Ma, respectfully relating the entire situation.

“Oh?” Boss Ma, just past forty, had a thick beard and a powerfully built frame, the archetype of a burly man. Yet those who truly understood him knew he was no mere brute. Such careful and cunning men were the only ones who could hold sway over a place like Cold Mountain for more than a decade.

“You’re telling me that the third brother has come back, and that all the big shots in Fengcheng County have spoken out about this?” Boss Ma asked, his tone grave.

“Exactly so,” replied Steward Xue. “Boss, my master was greatly angered by this matter, but that boy surnamed Li is currently at the height of his luck. My master’s advice is that we bide our time and avoid clashing with him for now...”

Boss Ma mulled this over for a moment before making his decision. “Very well, we’ll follow your master’s guidance. Someone, prepare food and wine for Steward Xue and show him to his quarters to rest.”

“Thank you, Boss,” Steward Xue replied with a bow.

Once Xue Si had departed, Boss Ma’s expression turned icy. After a while, he strode next door and pushed open the door, bowing with respect. “Master Feng, you must have heard everything. I’m afraid something has happened to our third brother!”

The man known as “Master Feng” was in his late thirties. He wore no beard, but his burly build surpassed even Boss Ma’s. Never without his blade, he exuded a steady, dangerous aura—a man not easily trifled with.

Master Feng pondered before speaking. “Boss Ma, you’re suggesting this was the work of the authorities? That my brother, Feng Er, was killed by them as well?”

“Master Feng, that’s nearly certain,” Boss Ma replied, his eyelid twitching as he bowed again.

---

Several days passed, yet there was no news from Cold Mountain. Li Yuanjing’s men in Iron Ox Town and those keeping an eye on Cold Mountain had nothing to report. Li Yuanjing’s vigilance intensified, even to the point of self-doubt—had he perhaps made a mistake somewhere? Had Boss Ma uncovered some flaw?

Still, though unsettled, Li Yuanjing did not panic. By now, after nearly ten days of labor, the trenchworks at Quanzi Village were nearly complete, and the earthen walls were already rising to one or two meters in places. Moreover, after his trip to the county town, he had brought back raw iron, and under the supervision of Mao Fugui and others, five more matchlock muskets had been forged. Added to the recent production of fifty or sixty grenades, even if Boss Ma were to attack, Li Yuanjing no longer felt defenseless.

That afternoon, as Li Yuanjing watched Mao Xiaocao test-fire a musket in the courtyard, pondering the selection of gunners, Zhang Kun hurried over and reported in a low voice, “Master, there’s news of Wang Youdao... Our men have been watching Dazhou Village for a week and finally confirmed that Master Wang left ten days ago and has yet to return. According to what we’ve heard, he seems to have gone to Qizhou.”

“Qizhou?” Li Yuanjing’s brow furrowed at that. The musket testing had just finished, yielding good results. After reassuring Mao Fugui and the others, Li Yuanjing returned to his temporary workroom with Zhang Kun.

“Is the information reliable?” he asked.

Zhang Kun nodded gravely. “Almost certainly.”

Li Yuanjing nodded slowly and suddenly changed the subject, “Brother Zhang, I’ve noticed Liangzi has a bright look in his eyes now—after this ordeal, he’s steadied his resolve. I intend to make him one of our first musket bearers. What do you think?”

Zhang Kun was taken aback, then overjoyed, immediately kneeling to kowtow. “Master, my family will never be able to repay your kindness, no matter how many lives we give.”

By now, Zhang Kun fully understood that the musket bearers were the most trusted of Li Yuanjing’s trusted men. He had long regretted that he could not become one himself due to the loss of his arm. Who would have thought Li Yuanjing would give such a chance to Zhang Liang?

Li Yuanjing smiled, lifting Zhang Kun to his feet, his tone earnest. “Brother Zhang, though we still don’t fully understand the situation, we must continue to keep a close watch on both Wang Youdao’s side and the Xue family in Iron Ox Town. Don’t worry about spending silver—I’ll find ways to earn it. Understood?”

“Understood, sir!”

Once Zhang Kun had left, Li Yuanjing finally allowed himself a small sigh of relief. From the tiny platform of Quanzi Village, he had suddenly been thrust into the power struggles of Iron Ox Town and even all of Fengcheng County. Though not yet fully accustomed to this intensity, he was learning to adapt.

Despite the many crises facing him, each difficult to resolve, Li Yuanjing possessed one great advantage—he, and all of Quanzi Village, remained hidden in the shadows. Others did not know their true strength. Added to the recent support shown by Zhao Bingchun, the Liu family, and the three heads of the county office, Li Yuanjing now enjoyed significant room for error.

Even if Boss Ma did discover the truth and decided to move against him, it would not happen immediately. He would wait for Li Yuanjing’s current prominence to fade. And that interlude would be Li Yuanjing’s precious window for growth.

Thus, he took up his brush and unfolded the large sheet of paper covered in names, marking off several that he had long observed and now felt confident in. These seven or eight would be the core of his first team of musket bearers.

Next, he planned to select another seven or eight as shield-and-blade fighters, and another group as grenadiers. With this force of nearly thirty semi-professional armed men, he would no longer be a lamb awaiting the butcher, but would be able to resist all comers.

As these thoughts ran through his mind, suddenly, the clamor of drums, gongs, and the lively, joyous sound of suona horns drifted in from outside. Li Yuanjing frowned—who dared make such a racket during his working hours?

Storming out, ready to reprimand the offenders, he was stopped short by the sight before him.

Down the slope, a wedding procession of thirty or forty people, all resplendent in festive red and green, advanced joyously, escorting a bright red wedding palanquin. At its head, surrounded by several jubilant women like stars circling the moon, was none other than Yuniang herself.

And leading the way, flamboyant and waving her handkerchief, was Wang Cuihua. The moment she spotted Li Yuanjing, she shrieked out, “Master, congratulations, congratulations! Zhao Yinling—Miss Zhao—is coming through the door at last!”