Chapter Twenty-Nine: A Perfect Agreement

The junior leader tilted his head, signaling to Yang Xiaolin that he could enter. Yang Xiaolin stepped into the tent, his gaze immediately fixed on Tang Dahu, who sat beside a campfire in the center. He noticed several others around Tang Dahu and hesitated before speaking, "I am Yang San, here to pay my respects to Master Tang."

Tang Dahu was momentarily surprised upon seeing Yang Xiaolin, but soon a smile spread across his face. He waved at the men beside him and said, "Alright, remember what I just told you. Now go outside. Dezi, later on, ask Old Zhang for some mutton and chili peppers—we'll treat the brothers to something nice tonight." A lanky bandit nodded, "Yes, sir."

Once the bandits had left, Yang Xiaolin straightened his back and his face broke into a smile as he slowly approached Tang Dahu. "Master Tang, I have heard your great name for so long, yet never had the chance to meet you. I never expected our first meeting to be in a place like this." His words were not mere flattery; back in the twenty-first century, he had known of Tang Dahu—whose real name was Tang Yulin.

Tang Yulin also smiled and patted the grass mat beside him. "I didn't expect it either. Please, Master Yang, have a seat." Yang Xiaolin folded his legs and sat down beside him. "First, I want to thank you, Master Tang, for your righteous act—refusing to point us out. Rest assured, I am a man who respects the rules and values loyalty. If I ever have the chance, I will repay this kindness."

Tang Yulin looked at him and said, "Kindness might be too strong a word. Let’s be straightforward—I know it’s not good for you to stay here too long. Allow me to ask you a question, and I hope you’ll answer truthfully."

Yang Xiaolin nodded. It was indeed improper to linger too long in this tent. Zhang Zuolin appeared generous, but was actually shrewd and calculating. If he worked with Tang Yulin, there were surely spies planted among Tang Yulin's men.

"Master Yang, how do you think Old Zhang will deal with you?"

The question was direct—perhaps too direct. Though they’d agreed to speak frankly, Yang Xiaolin couldn’t gauge Tang Yulin’s intentions. If he revealed his suspicions, he couldn’t guarantee Tang Yulin wouldn’t report to Zhang Zuolin; after all, they were sworn brothers. Yang Xiaolin glanced at Tang Yulin, who wore a faint smile, waiting for his answer.

"I suppose he’ll wait for me at my home after the Qing army withdraws, lying in wait for me to walk right in."

Yang Xiaolin ultimately chose honesty. As he spoke, he had already resolved that if Tang Yulin did not reveal his stance this time, he would proceed with Plan B.

His Plan B had a fair chance of success—only he and Tang Yulin were present. If he killed Tang Yulin, Tang Yulin’s men would know he was Zhang Zuolin’s man, inevitably leading to a bloody clash between their factions, opening up new opportunities. The plan was dangerous, though; even if he killed Tang Yulin, escaping the camp was uncertain. Unless his primary plan failed, Yang Xiaolin would rather not resort to this.

Tang Yulin burst out laughing after hearing him. "The name Yang the Ghost is well-earned! Zhang Zuolin and his men spent two nights scheming and you guessed their plan—impressive!"

Yang Xiaolin shook his head slightly. "But what good does guessing do? Zhang Zuolin’s scheme is ruthless. Think about it: after being chased by the Qing army so long, I’d be eager to go home and rest, only to find him waiting there, well-prepared. How could I fight back? My men would scatter at the sight of him."

Tang Yulin leaned closer. "So what’s your plan?"

This was even more sensitive. Yang Xiaolin smiled, but his eyes locked onto Tang Yulin. "That depends on where Master Tang stands. If you’re willing to help, I’ll make sure Zhang Zuolin doesn’t advance another step."

Tang Yulin clearly sensed something from Yang Xiaolin’s gaze—he was a bandit himself, and highly alert. He felt the chill and ruthlessness in Yang Xiaolin’s eyes. He knew if he refused now, Yang Xiaolin would act.

Tang Yulin smiled. "Rest assured, since I didn’t give you away, I won’t betray you. My only condition is that Zhang Zuolin must not be harmed."

Yang Xiaolin felt a surge of relief.

Tang Yulin patted his shoulder. "Since Old Zhang got married, his father-in-law has filled his head with dreams of glory and riches. He deserves a lesson. To be frank, when I came down from the mountain, I truly intended to wipe you out, because I wanted Zhang Zuolin to do something for me and needed him to owe me a favor. That’s why I didn’t ask him for grain."

Yang Xiaolin understood—Tang Yulin was now stating his terms. Whatever it was, he would have to agree. As Jin the Blade had said, he owed this favor and must repay it. It might be dangerous, but Zhang Zuolin himself was already a deadly threat.

He did not interrupt, but kept his eyes on Tang Yulin, who continued, "But at the first sight of Blade, my mind changed. I know Blade well—he has the courage to slip into Zhang Zuolin’s circle, but not the brains. That told me you must be Yang the Ghost!"

Tang Yulin smiled again. "I think the two of us should do this business together—it’s more fitting."

Yang Xiaolin was forthright. "No need for more words, Brother Tang, I agree. But may I ask what kind of business it is?"

Tang Yulin slapped Yang Xiaolin’s thigh. "Excellent! That’s the spirit of a true Northeasterner!"

Yang Xiaolin laughed. "What exactly do you have in mind?"

Tang Yulin’s expression suddenly grew solemn, with a sense of heroic resolve. "Master Yang, I want to attack the Russian army camp..."

When Yang Xiaolin emerged from Tang Yulin’s tent, a faint smile lingered on his face. He had no reason to refuse Tang Yulin; what Tang Yulin wanted to do was exactly what Yang Xiaolin himself desired. Tang Yulin sought to attack the Russian camp, hoping to help Feng Delin, who was fighting desperately against the Russians in the mountains.

Feng Delin was the leader admired by all the anti-Russian heroes in the northeast. Tang Yulin did not want to see Feng Delin destroyed by the Russians, and neither did Yang Xiaolin. If Feng Delin fell, the Russians’ next target would certainly be himself. With Feng Delin as a shield, some of the cold winds could be kept at bay. Besides, they were all engaged in the same cause—what every Chinese ought to do. Mutual support was essential; in times of weakness, uniting every possible force was even more important.

Moreover, Yang Xiaolin was always keen on raiding Russian military camps—no further reason was needed.