Volume Two: Bandits in This Place Chapter 111: The Dagger Revealed at the End of the Map

The night had deepened completely, though few in Anma City could hope for a peaceful sleep.

The chill tonight was biting. Countless souls were likely cursing the brat in the city who played with ice—a wretch who couldn't tell the difference between the peak of summer and the depths of winter, choosing to pick a fight during the sweltering heat of the midsummer season.

In the heart of the city stood a residence—unassuming, low-slung, yet imposing enough that the drifting clouds above dared not cast a shadow over it. Within this courtyard, an old man and a young one exchanged words of pure absurdity.

After a brief, heated argument, they fell silent, staring directly at one another. Finally, it was Ma Hui who broke the stillness.

He habitually lashed out with a slap, saying, "There must be an outcome. If we drag this out too long, that smart-aleck Du Zhaolin will start acting clever again."

Lin Changtian remained silent. He dared not show his resentment, but Ma Hui’s strike had been too heavy, leaving his mouth bruised and making it difficult to speak clearly.

"Why are you glaring at me? One day, your life will be mine to take; what’s a single slap in the way of collecting a debt?" Ma Hui sneered, feigning a threat that nearly landed another blow on the youth's tender face.

"I wasn't glaring at you. It’s just that the facial features are connected—you flattened my face, so the eyeballs had to pop out a bit. If you have any orders, just give them. I will follow them without a single complaint." He spoke with desperate sincerity, raising four fingers to the sky to swear an oath, terrified that Ma Hui wouldn't believe him.

Whether there was any truth in his words was something only to be determined when he had the chance to strike back after being beaten.

Ma Hui was amused. He smoothed his robes, watching Lin Changtian in a daze, saying nothing for a long while.

"In my youth, I acted against the rules, and when the masters came to 'civilize' me, I killed them. Later, when the scholars stood up for their teachers, intending to denounce a villain like me, it was a pity they were merely scholars. They held power in ink and paper, but they always had to watch the expressions of others. I have never tolerated being scolded. I led my troops all the way to the Scholar’s City and simply drove out those hypocrites who hung swords on their mouths to 'slay the thieves.' I cleared out a vast space, and to whom did it belong? Naturally, to a true man like me, who conquered the world on horseback. So, I named the city Anma..."

The voice trailed off. The story remained unfinished, and with no ending in sight, it simply came to an abrupt halt.

He was a man who lived outside the rules.

"Is that it?"

The listener was unsatisfied. Lin Changtian’s eyes widened, looking as if he were still hungry for more. Seeing that Ma Hui ignored him, Lin Changtian mustered his courage and cursed, "Damn your mother! You eunuch, has that thing between your legs shrunk even further? Who are you trying to bait with your cliffhangers!"

Ma Hui, who never tolerated being cursed, did not retaliate. He stared blankly at the stars, appearing to be... pondering the Northern Territory’s plans for a moon landing?

Lin Changtian shook his head vigorously, trying to shake off such an absurd thought.

"A savage bandit, a man who lives by the sword—what could possibly be in his mind besides warhorses and bed-horses?" he muttered to himself, loud enough for Ma Hui to hear, regardless of the man's distraction.

However...

Sometimes, a person who appears to be staring into space is actually contemplating destiny. In that sense, if one happened to lose focus and find a moment to beat up a base individual, it was hardly the victim's fault.

Lin Changtian scoffed at this. He was indignant—how could it be the victim's fault? Clutching his newly bruised face, he argued righteously, "I must lecture you on this: if a dog barks on the side of the road, does one abandon the pursuit of truth because of it?"

"That is true, and suitably shameless. But my hands are my own. Forget about beating that dog; one day when I’m in a foul mood, I might just slaughter it and boil it into a broth!" Ma Hui teased, finding the torment of this brat truly... addictive.

***

The beaten man feigned a thoughtful expression, nodding slowly and heavily, whether to vent his dissatisfaction or to show his sincerity in being "taught."

Ma Hui looked at him and smiled. "I will finish this story for you. The path ahead, you must walk yourself."

Lin Changtian’s expression turned serious. He no longer minded the filth on the ground and sat cross-legged.

"Those who bully others with dogma and those who refuse to follow rules are two different breeds. Unfortunately, the former usually cannot defeat the latter. Even if they occasionally succeed, it is a result piled high with countless lives. So, even though Lin Yuan lost three battles to me, retreating all the way from Luo-You Mountain to the Western Border, every time he won a single skirmish and reclaimed three of my towns, countless people sang his praises and wrote of his benevolence. That is the advantage of occupying the moral high ground. Thus, in my entire life, I could never defeat him."

Ma Hui’s tone was indifferent, but Lin Changtian could tell he was forcing a calm facade.

The courtyard fell silent again. Before long, however, the regrets that one dared not voice aloud proved too stubborn to be contained.

As long as he could say it, he was satisfied. Thinking this, Ma Hui opened his mouth: "To be honest, I am not at peace, but who ever is? One man I cannot defeat, and a group of people who beg at my feet—could these together drive me into a dead end? It is absurd, especially when they wrap it in a shroud of 'righteousness.' In truth, I was defeated by the Way of Heaven. But seeing you today, I feel relieved. If the Seven Ancient Clans of the North, who boast of their pure lineage and high morality, knew they couldn't outmaneuver a rootless wild boy like you... tsk, tsk, what kind of expressions would they wear? It’s a pity I won’t be there to see it."

"They must all be cut from the same cloth, just like you, waiting to see my downfall," Lin Changtian blinked, seeing through the bitterness of the defeated quite clearly.

Ma Hui froze, then burst into laughter. "Well said. My story is too short to tell, but yours should be longer. The hour has arrived; it is time to get on the right track."

"It’s been dark for ages. What kind of nonsense are you spouting?"

Ma Hui offered no explanation, grabbing Lin Changtian by the arm and leading him out of the residence.

"If you don't understand, keep your mouth shut. Do more, speak less. The dying will not mock you, but the wolves outside are a different matter." Ma Hui pointed outside the gates toward the south, toward the Central Plains.

Lin Changtian nodded, unsure if he truly understood or was merely trying to comfort the "dying man" before him.

They reached the main gate, which had been left ajar, but now stood closed.

Ma Hui sniffed the air and smiled. "They arrived quickly. Du-boy has me in his heart. Tonight, you are the victor. Cut me once; consider it dragging your captured prey out into the open."

No one answered. Ma Hui curled his lip and, with a furrowed brow, drove a blade into his own left arm.

"Tsk, it lacks a certain flair. Don't take offense—I've been a bandit too long; living without restraint makes playing the prisoner feel unnatural." Ma Hui laughed as he muttered, tapping the hilt of the blade still embedded in his flesh. The sound was crisp yet heavy.

Ma Hui’s face was expressionless, save for a fake, practiced smile. After a long moment, he tilted his head back, not wanting his final moment of vulnerability to be seen.

Tears dripped onto the ground, mingling with the blood and soaking into the soil beside the dusty blade.

He pushed the hilt deeper and gave it a twist. His left arm was left with a clean, ragged wound; most of the limb hung limp, held only by a sliver of flesh.

The warlord who had traversed the Northern Territory and slain countless men had become a cripple.

"Now it looks like a prisoner's wound. Tsk, how miserable." Ma Hui’s brow smoothed, and his slumped shoulders relaxed, as if a weight unrelated to his own fate had been lifted.

From beginning to end, even as blood streamed down his face, Lin Changtian remained silent. He acted as the most hateful of spectators, watching with cold eyes, as if he were the indifferent heavens themselves.

***

"You people are truly strange." Once it was all over and the dust had settled, he finally spoke.

Ma Hui shrugged, wincing in pain, his face pale as he forced a smile. "I only pray that Heaven allows you to succeed. I will die without regrets."

As soon as he finished, he picked up the blade with his right hand, not bothering to wipe away the mud. He placed it in Lin Changtian’s left hand, guided it to his own neck, and stopped. Having done this, Ma Hui kicked the gate open with a thunderous crash.

The light outside was blinding; countless torches turned the night into day.

Du Zhaolin stood with his hand on his sword, his expression dark. Behind him, soldiers held a man captive—Lin Changtian looked closely and saw it was Xu Yong, who grinned at him.

"Conditions."

Some people dislike dawdling, and Du Zhaolin was one of them. He was decisive and ruthless, though... he possessed the body of a scholar.

Before Lin Changtian could speak, Ma Hui sneered.

With an expression of tragic indignation, he stumbled forward, pointing a trembling finger at Du Zhaolin. "What conditions could you possibly want him to open? My life is worth more than anything! I watched you, Du Zhaolin, grow into a man, and yet you choose to scheme with this thief!"

Lin Changtian remained silent. He knew Ma Hui was acting—putting on a display of unreasonableness for the sake of Anma City, forcing Du Zhaolin to lose his composure so that he, Lin Changtian, could "win" completely.

He could even guess the miserable end Ma Hui would fabricate for himself: perhaps driving himself into exile, just like Zhang Yi, only to be finished off by a single strike from Lin Changtian’s blade.

Du Zhaolin wiped his face with his sleeve, his grip on his sword so tight his knuckles bled. How could he not fear for his commander’s life? His heart sank; the commander was truly... growing old.

"What are you saying!" Du Zhaolin’s face flushed red, his facade of calm shattering into genuine panic. "Villain, do not harm my commander! Name your terms, and I will not refuse!"

"Release him first," Lin Changtian said, pointing at Xu Yong. "Cede half of the Northern Territory. From here on, both sides will cease hostilities and never cross paths again."

Du Zhaolin froze. He almost laughed in anger, glaring at Lin Changtian. "The matter of a ceasefire can be discussed. But you must understand: this path you take is one you bought with base tactics, not because a mob of rabble forced us to cede land out of fear!"

"You haven't received the news yet. Why not wait a few days and see how the battle at Weinan Mountain Pass turns out?"

"This..." Du Zhaolin hesitated, looking at Ma Hui, not daring to speak.

Ma Hui closed his eyes, his expression one of utter despair. He spoke slowly: "Agree to his terms! We shall wait in this residence; it is quiet enough for me."

He gestured to the plaque hanging above, where the powerful, calligraphic character for "Ma" looked painfully glaring.