Volume Two: Bandits of This Realm Chapter 106: Taking Action and Reasoning

The two of them stared at each other for a long while, almost as if a subtle intimacy was beginning to bloom.

Xu Yong was the first to speak. He knew he couldn’t continue like this with Lin Changtian; after all, he still had to tend to Gongsun Twelve.

“Actually, the Northern Territories and the Central Lands are cut from the same cloth.”

He gestured toward the drifting clouds and the rooted earth, framing them within a certain boundary, as if that alone constituted the world.

“Yes. The reason we are sought after is simply because in this modest place called Sishan, we have established an impartial and just order.”

“Indeed. You understand all the principles; it seems there’s no need for much explanation.”

Lin Changtian looked at Xu Yong and shook his head, signaling that he still did not quite understand.

“Speaking so clearly—do you lose your words when others challenge you? Be honest: is it that you don’t want to speak, or that you can’t? Is it because you cannot win the argument, or simply too lazy to try?” Xu Yong rapped lightly on his head, as if trying to see what old, rusty parts might be inside.

“There is neither obligation nor inherent responsibility. The only debt I owe is that Yu Baili led me onto this... path of cultivation.” Lin Changtian was listless, or perhaps deep down, timid and soft.

Xu Yong gave no response; he had received the answer he least wished to hear.

“I truly want to devise a strategy to defeat the enemy, but with your state, even if you speak of it, you won’t be able to carry it out.”

The previously listless youth suddenly flipped over, like a carp leaping in water, displaying one last act of stubbornness. “Hey, who taught you these bad habits, dangling a carrot before someone’s eyes? Speak up quickly! The lives of the people of the mountain are waiting to be saved by a plan.”

“Hmph. There is no obligation, no responsibility that should belong to me. Therefore, you refuse to fight others, yet you still want to preserve Sishan. That’s a contradiction.” Xu Yong decided to give him a chance to voice his ambition.

Unfortunately, the youth merely shook his head stubbornly and replied, “These two things are not contradictory. The world is chaotic; everyone is trying to devour everyone else. If we can prevent others from devouring us, then we can also suppress our own desire to devour others.”

“You truly are a saint,” Xu Yong mocked. Seeing Lin Changtian droop his head, he continued, “I like the Lin Changtian of Xieli Town—full of drive and fearless. You dared to venture alone into the Western Frontier, supposedly to rescue the son of Lin Yuan. But who doesn’t know you spent all that effort just to win justice for the townsfolk? Unfortunately, people do not remember; justice does not last long. They can only hope the next official Lin Yuan sends is a little less cold-hearted. Ideally, someone with half the humanity of Liu Shiyong, but half the stubbornness less.”

“What can we do? Take the three western towns by force and impose our former... modern civilization’s rules on the Northern Territories? I’ve thought about it, but I can’t do it, and I probably wouldn’t survive long.” Lin Changtian lay prone on the ground, pretending to swim with his arms, like a salted fish dying of thirst, gazing at the vast river with a sigh.

Xu Yong nodded; this was the second absurd thing he had done today.

“Not fighting leads nowhere. You once thought so too, didn’t you? When the people of Sishan acted smart, you made them wary with scolding, throwing tantrums, even threats—countless unscrupulous methods to bare their fangs at a lion yet to arrive. But after Lin Zhao’s defeat, when the hidden riders were beneath our city gate, you became exactly what you hated most—like a stray dog, scrambling to survive.”

Lin Changtian looked up fiercely and barked at Xu Yong.

“A stray dog is nothing, but as a dog, don’t let your spine break!” Xu Yong swept his sleeves and turned away, deliberately slowing his pace as he awaited a reply from behind—whether a person or something else.

“Your plan hasn’t been told yet. If you don’t say it by tomorrow, I’ll share my plan with everyone!”

Xu Yong turned back. The youth was already sitting cross-legged, straightening his back in accordance with Northern Territory etiquette, without overstepping bounds.

“My plan is to fight to the death! With that appearance, learning the noble etiquette of the Saddle Horse City clans—what plan could you have, Lin Changtian? Nothing but opening the city to surrender, begging for mercy!”

“Oh, you’re not wrong at all.” Lin Changtian’s eyes brightened as he looked at Xu Yong seriously. “Think about it: first, Sishan has no real quarrel with Ma Hui, and he’s a great leader in his era. Even if we surrender, we won’t be humiliated or executed. Second, as you saw, they didn’t even need to make a move; our one decisive step was easily buried in Mangyang Mountain. Heaven is warning us—timing ultimately beats harmony.”

Xu Yong suppressed the urge to strangle him, holding back the chill rising within, his face darkening. He couldn’t resist.

His fist slammed hard, pure and unyielding, knocking the just-risen Lin Changtian back down, prone on the ground like a salted fish or a dog.

Xu Yong grew even angrier, knowing Lin Changtian had energy protection; his punch shouldn’t have caused such a stir.

“Have you made enough noise? If you want to surrender, then just open the gates today. Everyone kneels and accepts captivity together—no hard feelings, a happy occasion. Is that your reasoning?”

“Brother Xu, you said it yourself, can’t blame me.” Lin Changtian curled into a ball, wishing to become a sphere so that when captured, he could appear slick.

Xu Yong, however, was no longer angry. He nodded, smiling chillingly. “Naturally, that’s the reasoning. Otherwise, I’ll go persuade Kuisheng again, so the brat won’t dig in his heels stubbornly, risking everything with Weinan Mountain Pass. We have to help him regain his cunning—without trickery, how can it be called a product of modern civilization?”

“Modern civilization is more than trickery. There’s honeyed words with a dagger behind the back, betrayal to save oneself... Hey, Brother Xu, why don’t you take my head, the commander of Sishan, to the neighboring camp and trade it for glory? That would fetch a pretty sum!”

Lin Changtian spoke earnestly. Xu Yong didn’t hesitate; he drew the broken knife from Lin’s waist and pressed it to his neck with a smile: “I’ll take your dog’s head, but first, I’ll grant you one last chance to speak your final words.”

As those words fell, a faint ring of blood appeared around Lin’s neck. Lin Changtian was fearless; seeing the knife drawn, he only laughed more joyfully.

“Desire is fascinating; it quietly sharpens even in clarity. Do it—kill me, or take my head to open the city and surrender, or lead the brothers of Sishan to follow your plan, fighting stubbornly alongside Weinan Mountain Pass! Whatever shows spirit, we’ll do it. Can you command the people? If not, we’ll leave instructions and fake my suicide, how about that?”

“I don’t want my epitaph to be made famous by you.” Xu Yong sheathed the knife, kicked Lin Changtian hard, wiped the ground with his sleeve, and pointed at him. “Sit down and talk. You’ve spoken so long but haven’t heard my plan yet.”

Lin Changtian sat down, slouching. This time, he did not imitate the noble etiquette of Saddle Horse City.

“Northern Territory people survive. Risking life, fighting desperately just to live—that’s contradictory,” Xu Yong asked, hoping for an answer.

“That’s unfair. Heaven only enjoys tormenting ants struggling between life and death. Unfortunately, fate cannot be defied.” Lin Changtian answered, sincere yet giving Xu Yong what he wanted to hear.

Xu Yong blinked, feeling Lin spoke with sorrow, as if imagining himself a crawling insect.

“Not quite ready, fight slowly, step by step against Heaven.”

“Brother Xu, you’re wrong. Do you remember that poem? ‘Truly satisfied to be the Son of Heaven, yet longing for endless life. One day, the long coffin returns with regret, blaming the nine provinces for their differing moons.’ You can’t fight Heaven; from birth, it’s a war within oneself. Either greed wins, or... the contented find joy.”

Sitting on the ground, the two debated the grand way—actually nonsense, but utterly ignoring the hidden riders below the pass, like disregarding the enemy’s feast prepared in their presence.

After a while, flames rose high in the enemy camp, celebrating—unafraid of any accident, perhaps confident the Sishan people dared not descend.

Xu Yong, tired of talking with Lin Changtian, waved his hand weakly, “So, are you fighting or surrendering? If you want to fight, I’ll risk my life with you. But if you want to be a salted fish, I’ll leave now and won’t bother you further.”

“Do you know? That’s the thing I fear most.” Lin Changtian frowned, melancholy, confused, even resentful. “Everyone says to entrust their lives to me—how can I bear that? We’re about the same age, originally raised with Kuisheng, used to taking care of that fool. But now Yu Baili has led me down another path. I don’t know what else, but the burdens I must carry will only grow. Yet, not everyone can entrust their ambitions and lives to one boy, nor can I tell anyone. It might seem I lack generosity—and I’ve never cared for such things—but I truly can’t bear it!”

He felt wronged; the master of Sishan had no place to complain in Sishan.

“Then didn’t I come? Why are you crying? Fight or not? Will you or won’t you?” Xu Yong glared at Lin, scolding and wiping the tears from the corner of his eyes.

“I want to fight, but I can’t win.” Lin Changtian was honest, like a beaten underdog summoning strength to run toward freedom.

Xu Yong blinked and told Lin a lesson learned from Old Liu Qingshan.

“Old Liu said everyone in the Central Lands is a joke. I didn’t believe it, so he told me a story. A thousand years ago, the Central Lands were invaded by outsiders, beaten for being backward; a thousand years later, they thought themselves the pinnacle of civilization, forgetting the changing times and following the status quo blindly.”

“Don’t understand.”

Xu Yong shrugged. “Neither did I. When I asked him to explain more, he said one day, when the Northern Territories open their gates, I’ll understand.”

“So... what does this have to do with the current situation?”

“Old man told me a truth: farting is what happens after death; if you want to live, you must fight the battle in front of you well. Always hesitating leads to failure, and the truth becomes unclear.”

Lin Changtian, who usually loved preaching, was bested today.

He listened to Xu Yong for a long time; the whole story really was about butts and the present moment—how reasoning connects with action.

“I get it. I’ll go down the pass now and try to assassinate Chu Ji.” Lin nodded, half understanding.

“Don’t!” Xu Yong jumped up suddenly, grabbed Lin Changtian, and pointed west. “I said I have a plan. Weinan Mountain Pass is close to the three western towns. Beyond Yixiantian is Mangyang Mountain. Do you remember what Old Liu Shiyong said?”

Lin scratched his head, suspicious. “He told me in private. How do you know?”

“That old dog is cunning. He said the same thing to the generals in Sishan, word for word. Tell me, are there really a hundred thousand tigers and wolves outside Luoyou Mountain?”

“Probably not. If Lin Yuan invades, Chu Ji will either intensify the attack, break through the pass today, and from Mangyang Mountain flank Lin Yuan for a decisive battle, or he will retreat and honestly guard Luoyou Mountain.”

Xu Yong narrowed his eyes, suddenly sprang up, lifted Lin Changtian, and pointed west. “I think those hundred thousand troops exist, just the time hasn’t come yet—they’re watching from across the river. Remember what Liu Shiyong said? Following Weinan Pass westward, if luck favors, you might reach the back of Luoyou Mountain. The fog is thick there.”

“You mean...” Lin Changtian shook off Xu Yong’s hand, eyes wide with astonishment.

Sishan had gained another madman.