Chapter One: Black Wind Fortress

Black Wind Mountain, Black Wind Stronghold.

Chen Tong opened his eyes, greeted by the glare of a blazing torch.

“Damn it all, I’ll fight them to the death!”

With a thud, Chen Tong was kicked hard. Looking up, he saw a burly, bear-like man perched on a low stool, his teeth bared in a furious curse. One foot rested on the wooden bench, eyes as round as copper bells, his chest exposed beneath a loosely tied black sash, bristling with thick hair—a sight resembling a bear come to life.

“Chief, give the order! I’ll fight them to the end.”

“It’s no easy feat for us to raid the kiln village at the foot of the mountain. Now we’ve lost both men and pride, and on the way back, even some of our best were taken out. Chief, say the word, and I, Iron Ox, will take on those cursed government troops.”

The man's voice thundered through the hall, jolting Chen Tong awake. He gasped, instinctively trying to sit up—only to realize, with shock, that his hands were bound tightly behind his back, leaving him utterly immobile.

His face burned, his chest ached. He found himself in a brightly lit grand hall, high steps leading up to eight armchairs, each occupied or surrounded by rugged men with fierce faces, bare-chested and wild-eyed—a gathering of demons if ever there was one. At the center, two gleaming yellow banners were planted in a wooden stump.

The left banner read “Heroes United”; the right, “Uphold Heaven’s Justice.”

Chen Tong was dazed. He clearly remembered that just moments ago he had been delivering a medical lecture at a national summit—how had he opened his eyes to arrive here?

Instinctively, he thought he was dreaming.

Suddenly,

A surge of unfamiliar memories flooded his mind.

Chen Tong’s breath caught, leaving him stupefied. In these memories, he was a failed scholar in a county of the collapsing Shen Dynasty, a world ravaged by war, the people displaced and suffering, the imperial court mired in corruption and chaos, public resentment boiling over, the land unstable.

The original Chen Tong struggled to survive, managing to secure a minor bureaucratic post with a wealthy family. But that family, ruthless and oppressive, incurred the wrath of the bandits from Black Wind Mountain, who robbed the rich to help the poor. In his attempt to escape, Chen Tong was unexpectedly caught by the retreating bandits.

But—

Black Wind Stronghold, Hall of Heroes, Chief of the Stronghold.

Uphold Heaven’s Justice?!

So he had ended up in a bandit’s den?

Chen Tong cursed inwardly, shrinking back. To his surprise, the burly man slammed his fist down on the wooden table with a resounding crash, shaking the entire hall.

He glared with his bull-like eyes, breathing heavily, his voice rumbling: “Chief, say something! We can’t let this loss go!”

“The headman gave his life to save our brothers and was ambushed by those government dogs—Iron Ox can’t swallow this. All the men of Black Wind Stronghold are true heroes. Just give the order, Chief, and I’ll bring back the heads of those government troops to bury with Brother Tiger.”

He was beside himself with grief, his fists clenched like iron.

Chen Tong listened in bewilderment, finally noticing that a middle-aged man lay at the center of the platform, surrounded by the bandits. He was in his forties, with a bushy beard and a scar across his eye, matching Chen Tong’s stereotype of a forest outlaw. But now, the bearded man’s face was ashen, semi-conscious, his chest soaked in blood—a man with more breath leaving than coming.

“Iron Ox, be patient. Let me think.”

A cold, clear female voice rang out. A woman pushed past the men and knelt beside the wounded man, examining his injuries. She might have been twenty, perhaps younger. Her face was veiled, hiding her features, but her eyes were strikingly beautiful.

Such a young woman—was she the chief?

Chen Tong blinked.

“Think about what? Chief, if you’re afraid, step down and let someone else take charge. I can’t stand this humiliation!”

“The headman was ambushed by those government troops to save our brothers—I can’t let this go. Any true man will follow me down the mountain to kill them. Cowards aren’t heroes!”

With a crack, Iron Ox smashed his wine bowl and stood abruptly, ready to avenge Headman Tiger.

“Iron Ox, no!”

Xie Qingshuang was instantly alarmed.

She tried to intervene, but under normal circumstances, this woman—who had succeeded the old chief and was his granddaughter—would command respect. The stronghold bore the Xie name, and the old chief’s benevolence was legendary. But now, the men’s fury was at its peak, their eyes blazing with rage; stopping them was impossible.

But how could Xie Qingshuang watch them march to their deaths?

True, Black Wind Stronghold was a den of bandits. But most were just farmers driven to desperation by the cruel times, victims forced into crime. The Shen Emperor was foolish and immoral, the court rife with infighting and corruption, caring nothing for the people’s lives. The government troops in the county were well-trained and well-armed—how could the scattered bandits of Black Wind Stronghold hope to match them?

It was easy to descend the mountain in anger, but survival was another matter!

If they truly provoked the government troops and opened a full conflict, the stronghold would face utter destruction.

She too longed for vengeance.

For Xie Hu, who had been ambushed, was not only the headman, the second-in-command of Black Wind Stronghold, but also her uncle.

The stronghold wasn’t large, but it housed over a hundred souls.

A moment’s vengeance would be satisfying, but as chief, Xie Qingshuang could not sacrifice the lives of her people.

“I don’t care! Tiger can’t die in vain. Chief, if you’re afraid, stay behind, but Iron Ox won’t swallow this! Those government troops won’t let us live.”

“If we don’t avenge him, Iron Ox won’t enjoy meat or wine.”

“True men, follow me! Cowards aren’t heroes. Kill one, and it’s worth it; kill two, and it’s a victory. We must avenge the headman!”

Iron Ox grew more furious as he spoke, and his words stirred the crowd. The hall erupted with righteous indignation, the outlaws pounding their chests, their voices threatening to lift the roof. They brandished knives and clubs, eager to march down the mountain and face the government troops in a blaze of glory.

“Iron Ox is right! Kill one, it’s worth it; kill two, it’s a victory! Cowards aren’t heroes!”

“Tiger can’t die in vain!”

“Vengeance! Vengeance!”

The response was overwhelming; these desperate farmers, forced into banditry, waved axes and sticks, surging toward the door.

Xie Qingshuang tried to stop them, but was powerless.

The fury of the bandits, stoked by Iron Ox, could not be quelled by a few words. Seeing this, Chen Tong instinctively shrank back, quietly edging toward the side of the hall. Though he’d been inexplicably dragged into the bandit den, he had no intention of losing his head.

But even as Chen Tong tried to hide, the bandits gave him no chance. Iron Ox spotted him in the corner, grabbed him with a massive hand, and slung him over his shoulder like luggage.

“Bookworm, lead the way!”

Iron Ox’s breath reeked as he strode out.

Chen Tong was dumbfounded. How could he have been spotted? What had he done to deserve this? Lead the way—wasn’t that just marching to his death? If he were hacked to pieces, there would be no one left to protest his innocence.

Just then—

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