Chapter 150: 145 Plans and Changes

"So that's how it is..." Hearing the suggestion from Tang Zhao and his companions, Sang Jialiang, who was still sitting gloomily in Hu Zhuang, fell silent.

This silence lasted for a long time, so long that Tang Zhao thought he truly did not want to go, yet could not bring himself to reject them, and was currently trying to think of a way to stall.

After a long while, Sang Jialiang said, "I don't fear being laughed at by you benefactors. What others say about me being 'intolerant of evil' or having a 'stiff backbone'—that's all false. I am truly not a courageous man. In my heart, I am genuinely terrified of the strongmen on Jiming Mountain. It is only because I know that once I show weakness, those hungry wolves will realize I am bluffing and will surely pounce to devour Wushu Bao, that I have been forcing myself to hold on."

"What is it that I fear? It is not the few village chiefs currently on the mountain, but the person behind the Great Chief, Peng Duanhai. Peng Duanhai was among the first batch of brothers of the General Chief of Baixiong Mountain; he was one who followed that person and fought his way up from being a mere grunt. If the powerhouses above Baixiong Mountain were truly brought down, even a few Wushu Baos would be reduced to dust. Therefore, I endure whenever I can, and I hand over the monthly tribute. When he oppresses my villagers, I say nothing. When the petty thieves under him rob and kill our villagers, I act like a tortoise hiding in its shell."

He spoke on and on, his tone bitter, as if a frustrated middle-aged man were pouring his heart out after drinking.

He paused, then suddenly shouted, "Things have come to this, can I still endure? If I endure any longer, I'll be enduring my way into a coffin! He wants my life, he wants my sister's purity, he wants the heads of everyone in Wushu Bao. If I retreat any further, it's a dead end anyway. Forget it, let's just fight the bastards!"

Having said this, he slammed a heavy palm onto the table. With a *crack*, the table was smashed into a large hole by the force of his palm, and wood shavings flew everywhere.

The few youths all said, "That is exactly what should be done!"

Che Sha said, "Since Brother Sang has made up his mind, we should act sooner rather than later. It is best to strike the mountain before the stronghold realizes what is happening, catching them off guard."

Jiang Shenyi frowned and said, "Must we go to their home turf? I think it would be better to send a false report, saying the battle at the foot of the mountain is dire, and call them down to provide support. This way, we lure the snake out of its hole and empty the mountain of its strength, especially that Loose Practitioner. We kill their greatest combat power at the foot of the mountain first, then go up to sweep their old nest. We might as well flatten their mountain top; whatever 'General Chief' he is, let him guess blindly while facing a bald mountain."

Tang Zhao leaned toward Jiang Shenyi's idea and said, "That is better. A Loose Practitioner is neither strong nor weak. We cannot underestimate the enemy too much. Oh, right, what other experts are on the mountain?"

Sang Jialiang pondered and said, "There are five chiefs on the mountain and five or six hundred grunts. The Third Chief and Fourth Chief are dead, and over a hundred grunts have also died. What remains are the Great Chief, the Second Chief, and the Fifth Chief. The Second Chief is a scholar; even if he has some martial arts, it is only mediocre. The Fifth is young, and his martial arts are not even as good as the previous two. The remaining Great Chief is the most formidable. He used to be just a Knight-Errant, with martial arts slightly better than mine, but now that he has become a Loose Practitioner, I cannot guess his level."

Tang Zhao said, "We must prepare for the worst. Even though he just became a Loose Practitioner, we shall assume he has some personal instruction from the General Chief, or is a Martial Venerable who has practiced the Heavenly Gang... Do you think it is possible he has become a Sword Guest?"

Sang Jialiang shook his head and said, "That should be impossible. The number of Sword Guests in Lingzhou is fixed. Every Sword Guest can establish a first-class branch of Baixiong Mountain, of which there are eight in total. Adding the few leaders on Baixiong Mountain, there are no others. Jilong Mountain has only a few hundred grunts in total; how could it be worthy of having a Sword Guest stationed there? If he had truly become a Sword Guest, he would not need to return to Jiming Mountain, let alone use such base tactics to harm me."

Tang Zhao and the others felt at ease—as long as he was not a Sword Guest, it would be fine. A Martial Artist ultimately has a ceiling, unless he is also a Martial Saint.

But to be absolutely sure, Tang Zhao still wanted to formulate a foolproof backup plan for the "what if a Sword Guest pops out of Jiming Mountain" scenario.

Finally, the group drafted a plan to lure the snake out of its hole and defeat them one by one. This was especially convenient for using Art Tools.

Although a Talisman Sword Master can use various Art Tools, Art Tools have greater limitations compared to Sword Art. First, their power is restricted by the limit of Origin Stone energy—they either require a large amount of Origin Stone or need a powerhouse to drive them. Second, their activation and control are not as convenient or flexible as Sword Art. Therefore, for Che Sha to deal with the Third Chief, she also needed to lure him to a trap set up with Art Tools beforehand.

If they did not set things up in advance, the only ones capable of fighting a Loose Practitioner would be the fellow disciples from Zhuoyu Villa, and the two from the One Hundred and Eight Springs would have no way to intervene.

The group discussed the details further, and Tang Zhao said, "In that case, don't send the Manor Head of Hu Zhuang to the authorities, so as not to alert the enemy—there must be moles from the stronghold in the government, right?"

One didn't need to think to know this; with bandits so rampant in Lingzhou, how could they not be in collusion with the government? And it was hard to say who was the master between the officials and the bandits.

Sang Jialiang nodded, glanced at the people from Hu Zhuang, and said, "Lock them up first, and send them later?"

Jiang Shenyi said, "No—for the sake of the long term, we cannot let people see that the attack on Jiming Mountain is related to you at Wushu Bao. It is best if they all..." He made a gesture.

Sang Jialiang lowered his head and said nothing. He could not bear to execute a few innocent servants, but what Jiang Shenyi said also made sense; a moment of soft-heartedness would harm the villagers of Wushu Bao.

Tang Zhao compromised, "Except for the ringleaders, exile the others." He flipped his hand and took out several sets of Shackles; the Rune Formula on them was peculiar, and none of the others had seen it before.

Rune Formula—Exile. Adapted from the Sword Art of the Pi Gan Jian.

They immediately called the Manor Head's family over and asked them whether they wanted to live or die. If they wanted to live, they had to take the initiative to handle the aftermath. They were to say that the son had a sudden illness, could not perform the full rites, and the wedding was postponed. Then everyone was to pack their bags and get out, and finally, the wedding would be canceled as a matter of course. The bridegroom and his mother would be exiled a thousand miles away; if exiled to the north, they would already be in the heart of Liangzhou, and other directions would also be separated by two or three provinces. The old lady was given a set of clothes and several hundred coins, the bridegroom wore only his inner garments, and the other servants were each exiled a thousand miles away, but all were given some travel money to survive, with the money naturally coming from the Hu family.

While Tang Zhao and the others were busy with the aftermath and planning, changes were taking place on Jiming Mountain.

"I say... why haven't the third and fourth returned yet?"

The Great Chief, Peng Duanhai, sat on the first chair as if he were sitting on a Wolf-tooth Club, restless: "This won't do, I'm going down the mountain to meet them."

The Second Chief frowned and said, "Great Chief, the third and fourth have only been down the mountain for three days; by the count, today is the day they should act. Even if they succeeded and rushed back immediately, they wouldn't have reached the foot of the mountain yet. Besides, with the Third's temper, he will definitely want to have fun for a day; perhaps he won't return until the day after tomorrow. Why is the Great Chief in such a hurry?"

The Great Chief said, "No, no, my eyelid has been twitching today; there must be a disaster. Sang Jialiang is a jinx; I must take the disaster for my brothers."

The Second Chief understood in his heart: the Great Chief wasn't taking a disaster, he was avoiding one. Ever since that evil guest arrived, the Great Chief had been more troubled by the day. If not for his mediation, an internal conflict would have broken out on the mountain long ago. But if the Great Chief went down the mountain, wouldn't this disaster be dumped on him? He was even less willing to take this hit.

However, a superior official crushes those below; the second could not argue with the first. The Second Chief said, "If the Great Chief wants to go down the mountain... who can say anything? Then, should we notify that honored guest..."

When the Great Chief heard the words "honored guest," the veins on his forehead jumped, and he said, "What does our stronghold's business have to do with him? If he asks after I go down the mountain, just say I might not return to the mountain for ten days or half a month." Having said that, he called for the grunts to assemble two hundred men, preparing to go down the mountain.

Before going down, the Great Chief pulled the Second Chief aside and said earnestly, "After I go down the mountain, that... honored guest will be left to your care. Whatever he wants to eat or drink, do your best to satisfy him. Furthermore, be careful yourself; don't let what happened to the Fifth happen to you. I would hate to lose a good strategist like you."

The Second Chief sent the Great Chief down the mountain with a fake smile, then turned and darkened his face—the Great Chief still had the nerve to mention the Fifth Chief. Yesterday, the Fifth Chief was accompanying that honored guest, and he didn't know which word he said wrong, but he ended up dying miserably.

At the thought of the Fifth Chief's death, the Second Chief still felt a chill.

A chief on the mountain had died; that was a huge matter, but at this moment, it hadn't caused even a ripple. The Great Chief had roared in the Righteousness Hall for half a day, but he didn't dare to mention it in front of that person at all. Who told them the man was a Sword Guest? They couldn't afford to offend him. Even though this Sword Guest killed at will and his methods were fierce, almost like a madman, the stronghold had no way to deal with him at all.

If you can't afford to provoke them, you can at least hide!

Now that the Great Chief had found an excuse to hide away, the Second Chief could only hold the fort alone.

Although he hated the Great Chief for dumping the burden on him, for some reason, other thoughts emerged: the Great Chief could no longer be relied upon. Facing a Sword Guest, he only cared about shifting the blame; what could he accomplish in the future? As a man with great ambitions, he began to consider that a wise bird chooses its tree to nest in.

A Sword Guest—who is to say that isn't an option?

Just then, he heard a grunt report: "Second Chief, that honored guest is making a scene again!"

The Second Chief felt a chill in his heart, gritted his teeth, crossed the stronghold, and arrived at the backyard.

In the backyard stood a small building, different from the crude style of the stronghold, decorated very elegantly. It was originally for the stronghold's mistress, but since the Great Chief's wife died last year, it had been empty. It was given to that honored guest, and the decorations were increased several times over. Not to mention how exquisite it was, it was piled with gold and silver, and from a distance, it looked like a golden house shining brightly.

It wasn't that the bandits didn't have taste or made it tacky, but that this honored guest demanded it. He even demanded that the stronghold carry in the gold and silver accumulated over many years, box by box. Although the Great Chief was unwilling, he had no choice. Thinking that this evil guest was only staying temporarily and that the gold and silver could naturally be recovered after he left, he agreed.

He hurried over, and before he even entered the door, he felt a crisis looming. He instinctively dodged, and with a *rip*, a streak of Sword Qi brushed past his body, severing a large tree outside.

The cut on the tree shone with golden light, and in an instant, it was actually coated with a layer of gold.

The Second Chief was trembling all over, and said in a shaky voice, "Honored guest, it is I. You are..."

Only to hear footsteps, and a tall, thin man rushed out of the door. He was wearing a gorgeous brocade robe, adorned with gold and silver jewelry, dazzling in the Sunlight, his expression arrogant with a touch of madness.

The Second Chief looked behind him and saw a golden, shimmering phantom. It was as if hundreds of golden mosquitoes were flying about in chaos. When they first saw it, the people in the stronghold thought he was raising some strange insects, but later they learned that these phantoms were naturally attached to the man's back.

The man in the brocade robe gripped his sword tightly and shouted loudly: "Where is the Sword Smith?!"