Chapter Eleven: Big Trouble

He told none of this to Blade Jin; he simply patted Jin’s shoulder with an inscrutable expression, saying nothing. To deal with someone like Blade Jin, one must cloak oneself in mystery.

Blade Jin felt awkward after being patted. This group had once gathered around Liu Yikun; with Liu dead, by reputation or by brawn, it should have been Jin’s turn to lead. Yet in these recent days, it seemed Yang Xiaolin had quietly stolen the spotlight, appearing even more capable than Liu. Jin stared at Yang’s back, asking nothing more, but inwardly weighing his own plans.

Outside, Shaldatyev easily drove away the Qing soldiers.

Zhao Yansun came to inquire what had transpired in the camp. Shaldatyev told him that his own troops were firing their guns in celebration. Zhao wanted to ask more, but Shaldatyev, overbearing, warned him to leave quickly, threatening that any consequences would fall to the Qing government. He fired two shots into the air.

The night was dark; Zhao could not discern what surrounded him. Hearing the gunshots, he dared not linger, leading his thousand men back the way they had come. In fact, they were very pleased with this outcome.

Upon returning, Shaldatyev said, “Captain Yang, I have followed your instructions. Please keep your word and guarantee our safety.”

Yang Xiaolin replied sincerely, “Rest assured, I always keep my word. By the way, do you still have those cigars?”

Shaldatyev paused in surprise. Yang grinned, “You know, up here in the mountains, we lack everything. To be honest, I’m quite fond of those.”

Shaldatyev hurried to answer, “There should be some left in the general’s quarters.”

Yang turned to Biaozi, “Go fetch them for me. Well then, let’s end our business here. I promise not to harm any of your men. To prevent you from pursuing us or informing the Qing army, I must tie up every one of you. I hope you’ll cooperate, for I wish no unpleasantness.”

Shaldatyev dared not refuse. He was a clever man, recognizing that his best course was to comply. Besides, he sensed that if the other truly meant to kill him, there would be no need for such elaborate measures.

At his command, the dozens of captured Russians stood obediently, allowing the bandits to bind them. Yang Xiaolin specifically instructed his men to tie them securely, lest they escape prematurely.

Blade Jin grew anxious. “Captain, we can’t leave these men alive!”

Gu Xiaolin smiled slightly, picking up a Russian officer’s sword from the floor and swinging it twice in the air. “A fine blade. Brother Jin, I’ll give it to you—does it suit you?”

Blade Jin frowned. “I’m talking about serious business!”

“The serious business is, we need to leave now.” Yang smiled and turned to the room full of women. “Ladies, sisters, when you return, feel free to tell the Qing troops everything. My name is Yang Xiaolin, this is Blade Jin. The foreigners were killed by us—we specialize in killing foreigners. I’ll leave a written statement here to ensure none of you are implicated. That’s all I can do. Some things we can’t take with us; you may keep them for your household. I have one request: please don’t leave until sunrise. If I find anyone following us, don’t blame me for being ruthless.”

At his words, a girl stepped forward. She wore an oversized Russian uniform, her legs bare.

She bowed slightly to Yang Xiaolin. “Thank you, Chief Yang, for saving us today. Rest assured, we’ll watch over each other and won’t set foot outside this door before dawn.”

Yang nodded. “That’s best.”

Suddenly, the girl pointed to the Russians tied to the pillar and dropped to her knees. “Chief, please tell us—why aren’t you killing them?”

Yang glanced at Blade Jin. “Brother Jin, give her a knife.”

Blade Jin drew a dagger and handed it to the girl, but she hesitated, not taking it.

Yang picked it up and placed it on the table. “I’ve promised not to kill them, and I will not break my word. Do you understand? If you wish for revenge, you can decide what to do after we’ve gone.”

The girl was stunned. She had never killed before. Though she longed to avenge herself on these Russians who had humiliated her, for a sheltered woman, murder was daunting.

Yang did not press her. He looked around at the other women. “I’ll leave the knife here. One might not be enough; I’ll leave several. If you kill them, you can tell the Qing troops I did it—I’ll gladly bear that blame for you. Whether you use the knives is your choice. If none of you want these Russians dead, then don’t accuse me of failing your revenge.”

Kong Luodi entered from outside, his face twisted in a wide grin, betraying a fruitful haul. “Captain Yang, the wagons are loaded as you ordered—all the food taken, some armaments too, the rest ready to be blown up.”

Yang Xiaolin nodded. “Good, let’s go.”

As he stepped out the door, suddenly a woman seized a dagger from the table, her eyes blazing with anger, hands trembling as she charged at Shaldatyev.

Shaldatyev cried out in terror, “No! Yang, you can’t do this!”

A wet sound; the blade plunged into flesh, blood sprayed across the woman’s face. She froze, the knife falling from her hand. She was afraid, but the sight of blood spurred the other women, who shrieked and rushed forward, grabbing the knives Yang had left, hacking madly at the bound Russians.

Once the violence began, fear and reason faded. More and more women surged forward, some grabbing sticks from the floor, others attacking with fists and teeth. Russian blood flowed over them, washing away their shame.

The room was filled with screams, shrieks, curses. Yang Xiaolin closed the door behind him and asked Blade Jin, “Well? Isn’t this more satisfying than killing them yourself?”

Blade Jin was indeed exhilarated, even tempted to stay and watch the women finish off the Russians. But he asked, “Brother Yang, I just don’t get it—if those women really hadn’t dared to strike, would you have let the Russians go?”

Yang Xiaolin burst out laughing, offering no answer. “I think we should focus on what comes next. The Qing troops will surely hunt us, and the Russians will seek revenge. Before the mountain snows cut us off, we may be in for trouble—a lot of trouble.”

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