Chapter Forty-Five: Life in the Axe Gang

When the bandit leader returned to the main camp of the Hatchet Gang with Feng Qiuji and the others in tow, Feng Qiuji became even more determined to make a living here.

The headquarters of the Hatchet Gang was set atop a mountain, said to be called Hatchet Mountain. When the crowd saw their chief returning with his brothers, joy erupted; they hurried forward to greet them. Some sharp-eyed fellows noticed the unfamiliar face of Feng Qiuji and asked with curiosity, “Boss, who’s this?”

“Oh, this is a new brother who joined us tonight. His name is Feng Qiuqiu. Take good care of him in the days to come!” As he spoke, the chief gave Feng Qiuji a hearty slap on the shoulder.

Feng Qiuji nearly felt her bones come apart from the blow. She couldn’t fathom why this chief was so fond of slapping her shoulder, and with his burly stature and powerful arms, his friendly gesture was nothing short of torture.

“Now that he’s here, he’s one of us. Don’t worry, Boss.”

“Tell Ergouzi to prepare some good dishes tonight to welcome Brother Qiuqiu,” the chief instructed. With that, he retired to his room, leaving Yang Siyuan to show Feng Qiuji around the camp.

The Hatchet Gang’s base was built against the mountain. Though it lacked rare trees or elegant gardens, the setting was picturesque—the spring water flowed down the cliffs, forming a natural stream that meandered through the courtyard, lending the place its own unique charm.

“I can tell from your bearing and manners, Young Master Yang, that you must be a scholar. How did you come to take up the life of an outlaw in these mountains?” Feng Qiuji asked.

Yang Siyuan smiled slightly. “Now that you’ve joined the Hatchet Gang, you needn’t call me Young Master Yang. If you don’t mind, call me Second Brother Yang. To be honest, I am the strategist of the Hatchet Gang.”

Feng Qiuji was surprised; it was only today she realized that even bandit gangs needed a strategist.

“Haha, Qiuqiu, you simply aren’t familiar with our ways,” Yang Siyuan guessed her thoughts from her expression. “You must have noticed that Brother Zhang is a rough man—he never had much schooling. Leading so many people truly requires some wit. To be frank, I was once a licentiate who went to the capital for the imperial examination a few years ago but failed. So I returned to my village and became a teacher for the local children. The income was meager, but I found contentment in it. Unfortunately, I fell afoul of the county magistrate, who sent people to harass my family daily. Unable to bear it, I took my mother and fled to the mountains. My mother, upright as she is, would never accept her son becoming a bandit, so to this day, I haven’t dared tell her what I truly do.”

“Has she never suspected?” Feng Qiuji suddenly realized that not all in the Hatchet Gang were irredeemable villains—many had been forced into this life.

“My mother’s eyesight failed her years ago. Brother Zhang, out of kindness, gave us a courtyard where she can rest. I have little to repay his favor, so I offer my counsel as his adviser, handling matters inside and outside the gang.”

“Second Brother Yang, you’re truly a filial son.” Hearing his story, Feng Qiuji couldn’t help but give him a thumbs-up. Throughout history, how many parents have been abandoned by their children, left to die alone? A son as devoted as he is truly deserving of admiration.

“Filial piety is the root of all virtue. My mother raised me with great difficulty, hoping I’d earn top honors and bring glory to our family. Instead, I became a bandit and failed to give her a good life. I am deeply ashamed.”

“You’re still young, Second Brother Yang. There will be great things ahead for you,” Feng Qiuji said, offering comfort.

“Thank you,” Yang Siyuan replied with a smile, leading Feng Qiuji into a room. “Brother Zhang doesn’t know you’re a woman, so I couldn’t ask him to prepare a separate room for you. The brothers sleep here, but there’s a small inner room I had tidied up. Will you be comfortable staying here?”

“Thank you for your trouble, Second Brother Yang.” Feng Qiuji was already satisfied—after all, being away from home, nothing could compare to the comfort of the palace. Having a place to stay at all was not easy.

Meanwhile, in the Palace of Splendor, Arnold was wiping his tears with one hand while packing his belongings with the other.

Feng Qiuji had truly gotten him into trouble. She’d promised to help him talk to the teacher about homework, but instead, she’d just up and left, leaving him unable to explain to the teacher. He was punished with a beating and scolded by his father until he was half-dead.

Life was unbearable, so he decided to run away from the palace.

If he ever saw Feng Qiuji again, he swore he’d settle the score! At this moment, Arnold was using his own bloody, tearful lesson to warn all his little friends—never neglect your homework, or you’ll come to a terrible end.

“Oh, little prince, what are you doing?” The nurse saw him packing and hurried over in alarm to stop him.

“Stay where you are! Don’t move!” Ling Shunuo pointed at her and commanded. Though only four years old, he already had the air of royalty; when the little prince was angry, he showed no mercy to anyone. “If you take another step, I’ll have you killed.”

After he’d finished packing, Ling Shunuo shoved a letter into the nurse’s hand. “Give this to my father.” Then, walking past the eunuchs and maids kneeling on the floor, he strode out of the Palace of Splendor.

He had barely taken a few steps before someone grabbed him by the collar. Turning around, he saw it was Ling Zexin.

“You little rascal, dressed like that—where do you think you’re going?”

“Let me go! It’s none of your business!” Arnold was furious at Ling Zexin for ruining his plan. “If you don’t let go, I won’t be polite!”

Ling Zexin sighed and set him down. “Your father’s been in a foul mood these days. Don’t make things worse, all right?”

Hearing this, Arnold’s face fell. Of course he knew his father was unhappy—he wasn’t feeling much better himself!

“Uncle Six,” Arnold suddenly clung to his leg, aggrieved, “will you bring my mother back? I don’t want her to leave.”

“Be good, Arnold. Your mother chose to leave. There’s nothing I can do.” Ling Zexin was startled to hear him call him ‘Uncle Six.’ Usually, Ling Shunuo just called him ‘playboy’ or worse. Realizing the boy’s distress, he squatted down to pat him on the head.

“Father has been scolding me a lot lately,” Arnold said, pouting miserably—a sight to break anyone’s heart.

Though Ling Zexin was known to be a rake, he had no children of his own. Sometimes the little rascal was a headache, but when he acted cute, he was rather endearing.

“How about Uncle Six takes you out to play?” Seeing Arnold so downcast, a surge of fatherly affection welled up in him. After all, the boy was his royal brother’s son—without a mother since birth, how pitiful was that? With that thought, Ling Zexin decided to forgive Arnold for all the mischief he’d caused.

“All right!” Arnold agreed.

After giving instructions to the staff at the palace, Ling Zexin took Arnold out. Palace children were to be pitied—their childhoods burdened with heavy studies and endless etiquette. Though they lived in luxury, they were far less happy than common folk. Seeing Arnold now, Ling Zexin couldn’t help but recall his own childhood—ah, poor child.

The night streets brimmed with temptation, filled with women plying their trade. For Ling Zexin, who was used to frequenting high-class establishments and spending evenings in the company of beauties, the night was his favorite time.

On a whim, he decided to take Arnold with him!

He had no inkling how shameful and heartless this was. Arnold was a child, the very flower of the nation’s future, and yet he was about to be corrupted at such a young age—it was truly a crime against humanity.

In truth, in ancient times, royal princes began to experience the ways of the world at a very young age. As nobles, they never worried about raising children; so even as boys, the princes were already adept in the ways of the bedchamber. By the time they married, who could say how many women they had already known?

Whenever Feng Qiuji thought of this, her heart toward Ling Zetian died a little more.

And what was Feng Qiuji herself doing at this moment?

She was gazing up at the bright moon, lost in thoughts of home. Just then, someone passed by the window and rapped on the pane. “Qiuqiu, what are you doing?”

Looking up, she saw Yang Siyuan.

“Oh, the moon is lovely tonight, and it made me a little homesick,” she replied, grateful for his concern.

“If you’re in the mood to appreciate the moon, why not join me in the courtyard for a drink?” Yang Siyuan could tell she was not in high spirits and hoped to cheer her up and help her adapt more quickly to life here.

“Since you’re in such good spirits, Second Brother Yang, how could I refuse?” she laughed.

Yang Siyuan, seeing her agree, immediately fetched two jugs of wine and a couple of small dishes, setting them out on the stone table in the courtyard.

Feng Qiuji found herself thinking that, in truth, this life was not so bad.

Why pine for a single barren tree when the world is full of fragrant grass? She no longer cared what Ling Zetian and Qin Ruyan had done or were doing now. What was not hers, she would not force; such is the way of the world. She resolved never to return to the palace to disturb their peace. From now on, she would live well as Feng Qiuqiu, start anew, and become her own person.