Chapter 39: Arranged Down to the Last Detail

In the study of the mansion, as Yang Duan gave the order, the door slammed open with a bang.

Four personal guards from the four gate masters surged in, their hands clutching heart-phantoms, aiming to seize Fang Can’s vital acupoints.

Fang Can was stunned, his mind unable to process it—he hadn’t expected this to be a Hongmen Banquet.

Instinctively, his body reacted; seeing the four guards’ grasps, he swung his arms to clash with their Eight Fists.

“Bang! Bang! Bang!”

In an instant, relying on superior technique, Fang Can barely deflected the first five hands—but his strength was spent, and he was immediately locked down.

Feeling his heart-phantom neutralized and his technique powerless against four men whose strength dwarfed his by more than tenfold, Fang Can reluctantly ceased resisting.

At this moment, he finally understood.

If Yang Duan truly meant to kill him, why not just cut him down outright? Why go through the trouble of imprisonment?

Besides, his own ability had shown no reaction at all—this whole thing felt like a setup.

Realizing this, Fang Can looked at Yang Duan’s grim expression, trying to gauge his intent.

Yang Duan avoided Fang Can’s gaze, afraid his face might crack into a laugh, and instead said in a low tone:

“I recall the dungeon inside the sect is already full.”

“Then lock him in the small building in the northern zone—it’s where we store clutter, and hardly anyone ever goes there.”

Hearing Yang Duan’s words, the four guards responded with “Yes, sir,” then dragged Fang Can out of the courtyard.

After the five left, Li Fengtian appeared silently within the mansion and said: “Big brother, shouldn’t we explain this to the kid?”

“Explain? Pfft. As long as the kid’s brain isn’t broken, he’ll understand what we mean.” Yang Duan replied.

“Did you arrange something, big brother?”

“Of course I did.” Yang Duan crossed his arms confidently.

“Inside that small building, there’s no guard at all. There’s a secret tunnel leading straight outside, plus the entire military map of Yanggu County, food and drink stocked, no pedestrians within hundreds of meters. There’s no cash inside—but there’s a pile of IOUs…”

Hearing Yang Duan’s setup, even Li Fengtian couldn’t help twitching his lips—this arrangement was far too obvious; even Fang Can would see through it.

Sure enough, as Fang Can was dragged into the northern building by the four guards and saw its interior, even he widened his eyes: “What the hell is this—imprisonment?”

Before Fang Can, the entire floor of the building was paved with white marble, surrounded by red bricks, spotless inside, and stacked with all kinds of supplies.

On both sides stood shelves of rice, flour, oil, and salt; weapons—swords, spears, halberds, daggers—hung on the walls, like an armory; a detailed map was pinned to the wall.

‘Weird… too weird…’ Fang Can twitched his lips, staring at everything before him.

Without any communication, the four guards locked the doors and windows the moment he entered, ensuring he couldn’t leave through the ‘front door.’

Standing alone in this sealed room, he now had ample time to examine everything.

Walking past the shelves piled with supplies, Fang Can reached the desk at the far end, where a thick stack of paper IOUs lay.

[Starting from XX year, XX month, XX day, Rizhao Martial Hall accepts protection from Hu Sha Men. On the Xth day of each month, your sect disciples may present this voucher to collect 100 taels of silver as tribute, in exchange for the right to operate the hall.]

“Damn.” Fang Can stared at the pile of vouchers before him.

These were all letters of allegiance from every faction within a hundred li of Hu Sha Men’s territory—each forced to pay silver monthly, or else they couldn’t stay open.

Fang Can had heard of this practice before: disciples graduating from the training halls weren’t given silver directly, but instead received these vouchers.

They were then sent out to collect the dues themselves—how much they gathered depended entirely on their own skill, with Hu Sha Men interfering not at all.

After a quick glance at the vouchers, Fang Can turned his gaze to a wooden box placed on the desk.

Gently opening it, he found inside a golden-threaded soft armor.

Each plate of the armor was as thin as a cicada’s wing, tightly linked, with delicate, exquisite patterns; when he touched it, it felt like a python’s skin.

Grasping the sides of the armor, Fang Can pulled hard—but even with his current strength, he couldn’t tear it.

Supplies complete, weapons available, armor ready, a stack of IOUs…

Even if Fang Can were an idiot, he now understood exactly what Yang Duan intended.

One could only say—no wonder he was nearly a hundred years old; his planning was thorough. This whole setup, giving him martial arts and supplies alike, left Fang Can utterly speechless—and wishing for even more.

‘Since they locked me in here, there must be a secret passage.’

Fang Can pondered, then looked up—and saw a prominent white arrow pointing directly to the right corner.

In the corner it pointed to, a chain was attached to a marble floor tile—the message was clear: Get out now.

He stepped forward, lifted the marble tile, and found a tunnel stretching into endless darkness; combined with the map on the wall, Fang Can guessed it led to the uninhabited wilderness beyond Hu Sha Men.

Before he could explore further, the locked door behind him burst open, and a guard threw three unconscious men inside.

“Thud!”

As the heavy sound echoed, Fang Can recognized the three men—and his lips twitched.

They were Li Qunfan and the other two who had robbed him that very morning.

Seeing Fang Can’s bewildered stare, the guard growled: “The gate master’s order: at noon tomorrow, the sect traitor Fang Can will be executed. Don’t even think about escaping.”

As he spoke, the guard hurled several large bundles toward Fang Can.

Fang Can caught them casually—and realized they were his own modern suitcase, every item inside untouched.

Looking at the guard, Fang Can said with sincere gratitude: “Big brothers, when you return, please thank the gate master for me—I’ll repay him someday.”

The guards snorted among themselves: “This guy’s lost his mind—he’s about to be beheaded and still thanks us?”

“Who cares? Let’s go drink. Don’t bother with this kid—we’ll grab a jug at the tavern.”

“Good idea. Besides, this building’s impregnable—the kid won’t get out…”

…

Watching the four guards lock the door and walk away, arms slung over each other’s shoulders, Fang Can smiled and took a high-quality longsword from the weapon rack.

Only then did the three thugs on the ground slowly awaken, their eyes opening to see Fang Can holding a gleaming sword, grinning at them.

Li Qunfan scrambled backward in terror: “Fang… Fang Can, what are you doing? Killing a fellow sect member is a grave crime—you’ll be pierced through three times and cut six ways!”

“You’re right,” Fang Can drew his gleaming blade, smiling brilliantly: “Too bad I’m no longer a member of Hu Sha Men.”

(End of Chapter)