Chapter Twenty-Five: Walking on Thin Ice

Yang Xiaolin’s heart gave a sudden jolt. His hand instinctively reached for his gun, and beside him, Jin Dadao’s hand was already gripping the handle. Both men’s faces turned tense, ready to rush forward and pin Zhang Zuolin down at a moment’s notice.

But then Tang Dahuo turned his head, caught sight of Jin Dadao, and his face flashed with surprise before he pointed at Jin Dadao. “You… Fifth Brother, these two men—where did you pick them up?”

Zhang Zuolin was highly alert; seeing the tense expressions of the three men, he immediately shifted slightly to one side. At the same time, Wang Jinhan stepped forward without waiting for instructions, moving just enough to stand between Zhang Zuolin and Jin Dadao.

“Big Brother, do you know these two?”

Tang Dahuo glanced at Jin Dadao, then at Yang Xiaolin, but didn’t answer Zhang Zuolin’s question directly. “Where did you find them?”

Zhang Zuolin replied truthfully, “In Fengtian city. They said they were traders who got robbed by bandits.”

Tang Dahuo then said something that caught Yang Xiaolin and Jin Dadao completely off guard. “Ah, had I known they were our own, there wouldn’t be this scene now! Fifth Brother, you too—friends passing through my territory, and you don’t even let me know? Truly, it’s like floodwaters washing over the Dragon King’s temple.”

Zhang Zuolin seemed to understand. “Big Brother, are you saying you were the one who robbed them?”

Tang Dahuo nodded, then cupped his fists to Yang Xiaolin and Jin Dadao. “Brothers, I truly apologize. In this business, it’s inevitable to bite one’s own tongue from time to time. I’m here to make amends.”

He even shot Jin Dadao a meaningful look, but neither Yang Xiaolin nor Jin Dadao felt any relief from Tang Dahuo’s words. Their suspicions only deepened. They couldn’t fathom why Tang Dahuo would say this—not only letting them off, but also dispelling Zhang Zuolin’s doubts. Why would Tang Dahuo help them? Because of his friendship with Jin Dadao? Even Jin Dadao himself found that hard to believe.

So their hands remained on their guns. Zhang Zuolin, meanwhile, smiled and gently pushed aside Wang Jinhan, who had been ready to shield him from a bullet. He walked up to Jin Dadao and Yang Xiaolin. “Brothers, as the saying goes, ignorance is no crime. We didn’t know each other before, and now Brother Tang has apologized. Your friend will be saved, too. Give me this courtesy, and let’s put this matter to rest, shall we?”

Yang Xiaolin saw Tang Dahuo smile at him, as if to reassure him that he would never betray him. Weighing the situation, knowing that fighting might not even get them out alive, Yang Xiaolin slowly took his hand off the gun. “I follow the orders of the militia—I dare not disobey.”

Tang Dahuo stepped forward. “Brother, you still have grievances, I see. I don’t blame you—my men did get a little carried away that day. Well, tonight, I’ll pour you a drink myself as an apology.”

Tang Dahuo had laid out the steps; it would be unreasonable not to accept. Yang Xiaolin cupped his fists in return. “I wouldn’t dare, I wouldn’t dare.”

Zhang Zuolin chuckled, “That’s settled then. It’s nothing serious! Look, we’re almost at the doorstep. Brother Tang, I’ve prepared a modest feast—let’s go inside and drink as we talk.”

Tang Dahuo promised to make amends to Yang Xiaolin and his companion, but they weren’t even allowed inside the house to join the drink. Zhang Zuolin clearly didn’t want those with grievances against Tang Dahuo at the same table, assigning Jin Dadao to entertain the other attendants.

As for Yang Xiaolin, tonight he was bound for Fengtian. He still felt uneasy. “Brother Jin, are you good friends with Tang Dahuo?”

Jin Dadao shook his head. “We’ve worked a few jobs together, get along well enough, but I wouldn’t say he’d risk offending Zhang Zuolin for my sake. That’s stretching it.”

Yang Xiaolin pondered, then replied, “I suspect Tang Dahuo has some agenda.”

“What agenda?”

Yang Xiaolin shook his head. “I’m not sure, but tonight, he’ll come looking for us.”

Jin Dadao’s eyes flickered. “Are you still going to Fengtian?”

Yang Xiaolin said, “Of course. I have to see how Xianhe is, and I must contact the brothers outside the city. Will you come with me or stay here?”

Yang Xiaolin was uncertain. Staying with Zhang Zuolin seemed dangerous. Tang Dahuo’s arrival was so sudden, it caught him completely off guard. Though Tang Dahuo hadn’t exposed him, the situation only became more unpredictable. He had the uneasy feeling that any misstep could plunge him into a bottomless abyss.

Yet, while dangerous, this place was also the best breakthrough point to defeat Zhang Zuolin. No matter what, Tang Dahuo hadn’t spoken out yet—if he gave up this last hope, Yang Xiaolin felt a vague sense of regret.

Jin Dadao clearly understood Yang Xiaolin’s mood, and grinned. “You go. Right now, you’re the least safe. Didn’t you hear Tang Dahuo say he’d let me off? As long as you’re not here, even if they find out, I’ll tough it out—they won’t do much to me. Did you see the thickest poplar tree by the roadside? If I’m fine tomorrow, I’ll leave three stones under it, each with a leaf beneath. If you don’t see them, it means they’ve caught me—don’t come back.”

Yang Xiaolin nodded and said no more. After bidding farewell to Zhang Zuoxiang at the door, he headed straight for Fengtian.

Things had been agreed upon; Zhang Zuoxiang naturally didn’t try to stop him. He even prepared a bag of silver and a swift horse for Yang Xiaolin, urging him to go and return quickly.

Riding hard, Yang Xiaolin reached the gates of Fengtian in short order. Old Hu’s pharmacy was as deserted as ever. In these times, the sick were many, but few sought help—the common folk waited out minor illnesses at home, and for major ones, simply waited to die, all because they couldn’t afford treatment. Yet the authorities kept imposing new taxes and levies upon them.

Not just the pharmacy—business everywhere was hard.

Yang Xiaolin tied his horse to a post at the door and entered to find Old Hu changing Liu Xianhe’s bandages. Liu Xianhe’s eyes were open—Yang Xiaolin was overjoyed. “Xianhe, you’re finally awake!”

Liu Xianhe’s face was pale, but his mind was clear. He smiled weakly at Yang Xiaolin. “Brother, I’ve troubled you all.”

Yang Xiaolin gently patted his hand. “We’re brothers—don’t say that. Stay here and heal; don’t worry about anything else.”

Liu Xianhe was moved, nodding.

Yang Xiaolin said no more. He turned and handed the money pouch to Old Hu. “Doctor, thank you. Here’s some payment—if it’s not enough, we’ll bring more in a few days.”

Old Hu’s face was solemn. He glanced at Liu Xianhe, then pulled Yang Xiaolin aside. “You’re at Commander Zhang’s place now, so payment isn’t the issue. But forgive me for being blunt—your friend’s other wounds aren’t too bad, but the bullet in his abdomen, I can’t remove it. I suggest you take him to a foreign hospital—there might be hope.”

Yang Xiaolin was stunned. “You mean he’s not out of danger yet?”

The doctor nodded. “One foot is still in the netherworld. I can only hold onto the other to keep him from crossing over. Forgive my lack of skill—I truly can’t help. Take him quickly.”

Yang Xiaolin glanced at Liu Xianhe lying on the bed. Foreign hospitals were hard to find, especially here in western Liaoning, where bandits abounded. Most Western doctors were in areas controlled by the Russians—going there was a dangerous venture.