Chapter Thirty: The Deadline

Misfortunes never come singly. Just as Zuo Jincheng returned severely injured from a campaign against bandits outside the city, the imperial authorities arrived at the Feng residence to demand grain. It seemed as though every disaster had converged at once.

"Old Master Feng, please don’t blame us for being disrespectful. The pressure from above is immense, and we have no choice. We hope you won’t make things difficult for us," the bailiffs said, looking at Old Master Feng with mocking smiles. They had clearly received word in advance that Zuo Jincheng was injured, which was why they had chosen this moment to strike.

"Could you grant me a little more time? I need to consult with an old friend," the old man pleaded.

"I might as well tell you now: it won’t matter who you ask for help. Either you produce the grain, or Old Master Feng will have to come with us."

It was evident this hurdle would not be easily cleared. Watching the old man humble himself, the two Feng sisters looked on with faces pale with despair, yet they were powerless; the massive weight of the imperial court was not something people like them could resist. While the Feng family had connections in the government, none of them were of any use this time. Someone had made up their mind to ruin them, and there was no hiding from it.

"The deadline set by the imperial court has not yet passed, has it? Isn't it a bit against the rules to act this way? The deadline is not until the end of today. The Feng family will use this final half-day to gather the supplies. Please, return later."

No one expected Xu Feng to step forward at such a moment. Upon hearing him, the family’s disappointment deepened; if they hadn't found a solution after so long, even if Zuo Jincheng were to wake up now, it would be a lost cause.

"Who are you? I recall Old Master Feng has no son," the head bailiff asked, staring at Xu Feng. Someone nearby recognized him and stepped forward to whisper, "He is just the Feng family’s live-in son-in-law."

"So that’s who you are—the famous good-for-nothing of the Feng family. Very well, let’s see what you can do with this half-day. Don't waste it; we will return tomorrow morning." Although they held Xu Feng in contempt, they granted the extension, believing that if the grain could have been gathered, it would have been done long ago. Without waiting for the old man to speak, the group departed, showing him no respect at all.

Old Master Feng showed no gratitude. As soon as the bailiffs were out of sight, he began to berate Xu Feng. "What is the point of gaining half a day? It only makes them watch us more closely. If you had an ounce of ability, you wouldn't be resorting to such petty tricks. Look at young Master Zuo—at least he has the courage to face bandits, unlike you, who only knows how to hide at home like a coward."

Xu Feng watched the old man with cold eyes. The man was hopelessly muddled; the decline of the Feng family was only a matter of time. Zuo Jincheng could wrap most of the family around his finger with simple tricks, so how would they ever discern other dangers?

As the others fretted over a strategy, Zuo Jincheng emerged from the back hall, clutching his chest. "Old Master Feng, do not worry. Before I was injured, I made other arrangements."

"Young Master Zuo, please, lie back down and rest. Do not get out of bed; you must recover your health," the old man said, his treatment of Zuo Jincheng a stark contrast to his disdain for Xu Feng. Zuo Jincheng’s pale complexion was genuine; he had indeed been seriously wounded.

"Before I was injured, I sent a friend to negotiate with a group of bandits to borrow grain. This friend has connections with them, so I am certain he will not disappoint. You need only wait patiently."

The family finally breathed a sigh of relief. In their eyes, Zuo Jincheng was far more reliable than Xu Feng. With his promise, they felt the matter was settled. "We must rely on you, Zuo. Someone, take him to rest immediately!"

"That is unnecessary. My injuries are difficult to treat with common medicine. I must return to my sect to recover more quickly," Zuo Jincheng insisted. Old Master Feng and Feng Yuzhi, never doubting him, personally saw him out. Only Feng Yumian complained, "Borrowing grain from bandits? I think he’s just trying to run away. If he had such friends, why didn’t he call upon them sooner instead of waiting until now?"

"Enough! Silence, or you will offend him," the old man scolded. Feng Yumian pouted and turned to find Xu Feng, but he had already vanished.

Xu Feng had changed his attire and set out to find a different group of bandits himself. He did not act recklessly; he scouted the area to learn the details of this bandit gang, preparing thoroughly before reaching their mountain stronghold. He realized immediately that this group was far more professional and formidable than the ones at Xixia Mountain, as evidenced by their organized patrols. They moved in groups, leaving no opportunity for a sneak attack.

"I cannot face them head-on. I will ignore these small fry and deal with their leader first," Xu Feng decided. Their strength was significant, but he was no weakling, and his power had increased several times over. Furthermore, he possessed the "Human Emperor Banner" as his trump card. The only threat of note was the bandit chief, a master of the Small Perfection stage.

Xu Feng slipped into the stronghold silently, neutralizing obstacles without alerting the main force. "The leader must be in the Great Hall. The kitchen is nearby, so I can sneak past through there."

Just as he entered the kitchen, an accident occurred. A woman in red was sneaking about, devouring a roasted chicken as if she hadn’t eaten in days. Xu Feng hesitated, choosing not to strike. She was likely a captive, and he was no murderer.

"Ah! Who are you? Why are you here?" she cried out, realizing his presence too late. Xu Feng quickly stepped forward and covered her mouth. "Quiet! Do not be afraid. When I leave the mountain, I will take you with me. For now, I have business to attend to. Stay here and be quiet."

Hearing this, the woman silently tucked away the short sword she had half-drawn. Xu Feng never realized that the woman was not a captive, but the bandit chief of Red Maple Mountain herself; his assumption was based on sheer habit. He imagined the chief would be a hulking, terrifying brute, never suspecting that a bandit leader would be stealing roasted chicken in the kitchen in the middle of the night.