“I don’t care about them,” Qing Mulian said, pointing to the other leaders’ wives and children, then at the woman tied to the pillar. “But this vile woman, who knows how many girls she’s tortured to death, she must die! Master, can you leave her to me?”
While talking to the “meat horses,” Qing Mulian heard the most complaints about this woman. The perverse torments she inflicted gave Qing Mulian goosebumps.
“Do as you see fit,” Jin Feng said, knowing Liu Jiang’s wife deserved punishment and seeing the fury in Qing Mulian’s eyes. He nodded in agreement.
“Take her and follow me,” Qing Mulian said coldly.
The guarding veteran glanced at Jin Feng, saw him nod, untied the woman from the pillar, and dragged her along with Qing Mulian.
Jin Feng didn’t know what would happen to the woman, but he doubted it would be pleasant.
“Liang, I saw some carts over there. Have everyone gather the valuables and load them onto the carts,” Jin Feng said.
The haul was substantial. The grain aside, the copper coins alone filled over a dozen sacks, weighing thousands of jin, requiring carts to transport back.
“Alright,” Zhang Liang agreed and went to arrange the carts.
“Old Zheng, split the men into two teams. One team will escort these leaders’ wives, children, and the cooking women to Cat Mountain. The other team stays to guard this place, especially the granary. There must be no mistakes,” Jin Feng said, turning to Zheng Fang.
Though most of the leaders’ wives were bought, human nature was unpredictable. Jin Feng couldn’t be sure they wouldn’t feel gratitude toward the bandits after being fed and clothed.
Such cases weren’t unheard of. In his previous life, Jin Feng had read about a hostage who, initially hating her kidnappers, later spoke in their favour after their capture—a psychological condition called Stockholm Syndrome.
If it could happen in the comfortable 21st century, it was even more likely in Dakang, where many women’s only aspirations were to eat and survive. The chances of developing such a condition were high.
Iron Tank Mountain was easy to defend, hard to attack, and stored vast amounts of grain. Jin Feng planned to turn it into a fortress, so sending those tied to the bandits to Cat Mountain was safer.
“Got it, I’ll handle it,” Zheng Fang said and left to carry out the order.
“Tie Niu, take some men and search the other areas again. Divide up whatever you find among everyone,” Jin Feng said, looking at Tie Niu.
“Thank you, Master,” Tie Niu and the surrounding veterans grinned.
They hadn’t searched for items earlier, only people. They knew without Jin Feng, they couldn’t have taken down Iron Tank Mountain’s bandits. He supported them to fight, not to scheme for wealth.
Though they envied Liu Jiang’s riches, none dared covet them. It was a military custom: when a city was taken, the leader’s wealth went to the commanding general, and ordinary soldiers were lucky to get scraps.
Some greedy generals left nothing for their men. Jin Feng’s promise to share the other leaders’ wealth was unusually generous.
By mid-afternoon, the veterans finished searching the courtyards. Returning to Xihe Bay with the carts would mean travelling at night.
Several sizable bandit groups remained in Jinchuan County, and Iron Tank Mountain’s accumulated wealth was enough to make them envious. Since Constable Zhang knew about the attack, other bandits might too.
Though Jin Feng wasn’t afraid of being robbed, he didn’t want trouble. After some thought, he decided to stay overnight at Iron Tank Mountain.
That night, bonfires blazed in the centre of the mountaintop’s open space, with large pots hanging over them, the aroma of rice or stewed meat wafting out. The veterans sat around, laughing heartily.
That afternoon, they’d found items worth nearly a thousand taels of silver from the bandit leaders’ homes. With only a few dozen veterans and female soldiers, each could get over ten taels.
Their usual yearly wage was just over three and a half taels. This haul was equivalent to three or four years’ pay—a windfall that left them ecstatic.
In the northwest corner, a few bolder girls emerged from the wooden huts, hiding in the shadows, eyeing the pots over the fires.
Their last meal was at noon the previous day, a small portion of wild vegetable porridge. Starving and drawn by the smell of food, they ventured out.
“Dinner’s almost ready. Call your sisters to come eat,” Tang Dongdong and Guan Xiaorou said softly, appearing behind them.
“We get food too?” one girl asked, mustering her courage.
That afternoon, Guan Xiaorou, Tang Dongdong, Qing Mulian, and some female soldiers had spent a long time in the huts. Perhaps because they were women, the girls gradually lowered their guard.
“Of course. We’ve cooked over a dozen pots of rice. With just a few dozen of us, how could we finish it all?” Guan Xiaorou said. “The boss promised me he’ll arrange work for you. You won’t go hungry anymore or have to cram into these huts. You can live in any of those thatched huts over there.”
“Let’s go, dinner’s ready,” Tang Dongdong said, pulling one girl toward the open space.
A cooking veteran smiled at the girl, filled a large bowl with rice, and ladled two scoops of stewed meat over it.
“Eat here or take it back?” Tang Dongdong asked, handing her the bowl.
The girl swallowed hard, didn’t answer, and ran off with the bowl.
Perhaps inspired by her, two more girls crept along the wall moments later.
Then three, four… more and more came.
Even the despairing “meat horses” from the previous batch eventually joined.
Realising these veterans were different from the bandits, the girls relaxed. Instead of taking their bowls back to the huts, they squatted in groups of three or five on the west side of the open space.
As they ate, one girl started sobbing, tears dripping into her bowl.
Her emotions seemed contagious, and others began crying too.
The sobbing grew louder. Some girls stopped eating, sitting on the ground, weeping heartbrokenly.
Jin Feng and the women were eating in Liu Jiang’s courtyard when they heard the crying and rushed out.
“Tie Niu, what’s going on?” Qing Mulian shouted, face cold. “I was only inside for a bit, and you’re bullying them? Who did it? Step forward!”
Guan Xiaorou and Tang Dongdong’s faces darkened too.
They’d spent all afternoon reassuring the girls, barely getting them to leave the huts, only for them to break down crying after a quick meal inside.
