If You're Going To Do It, Do It Properly

Duho and the Red Headband Hall’s crew, dressed as bandits, hauled the carts along the forest track. They walked a good while to the rattle of the wheels before a broad clearing opened out ahead of them.

“We stop here.”

At Duho’s word the Red Headband Hall halted where they stood. A moment later a body of men showed themselves, and among them was the same Great Saber Gang lieutenant he’d seen when they first met the gang’s leader.

The lieutenant came over to Duho wearing a satisfied smile. He had the brutal look of a mountain bandit himself, and he was Black Leopard’s right hand, the man in overall charge of this whole medicine raid.

“Quicker than I expected, eh?”
“It was nothing much, just as the Boss said it would be. We surrounded them, put a bit of fear into them, and they handed the carts straight over.”
“Even so, that’s fine work for a first job. The masks, the way you move your boys — none of it’s the ordinary sort.”

Of course it isn’t. How many years do you think I’ve fed myself by thieving?

Duho sneered inwardly. In thieving, at least, he prided himself on standing a cut above the leader of the Great Saber Gang. He kept all of it off his face and spoke up smoothly.

“Thank you kindly. Odd little tricks like this happen to be my specialty. I hope you’ll take me in hand and set me right from here on.”
“You’ve a way with words, too. I like you. Don’t fret about finding your footing inside the gang — I’ll see to that myself. Now then, shall we have a look at the goods?”
“Of course. Lads — get the crates open.”

At Duho’s order the Red Headband Hall’s men opened the crates loaded on the carts. Inside, the medicine lay carefully wrapped and packed to the brim. The lieutenant lifted one out and sniffed at it, and when the faintly bitter smell of herbs came up he nodded, satisfied.

“They say this stuff works wonders. Have you ever used it?”
“No. I’ve only ever heard the talk — this is the first time I’ve laid eyes on it.”
“When I made inquiries about getting hold of some, they told me only the Shandong Escort Bureau sells it. Never thought I’d come by a whole crate of it.”

Duho leaned his face in close at that, made a show of checking who might be watching, and dropped his voice to a whisper.

“Which is why I set a share aside for you, sir.”
“My share?”
“Bring it.”

One of his men brought a pouch over, and Duho took it and passed it across. The lieutenant felt the weight of the thing the moment it touched his hand. He opened it up and found it packed with medicine, easily more than ten at a rough count. His mouth stretched from ear to ear.

“Well, sir? Does it suit?”
“Haha! Suit me? I should say so! You’re a real find, you are. I took you for a man who was only good with his hands, but you know how to get on in the world as well. Any time you’re in trouble from here on, come and find me.”
“Thank you, Brother!”

The lieutenant clapped Duho on the shoulder, pleased with himself, and said,

“Off you go now, little brother. We’ll carry it from here ourselves.”
“Understood. We’ll take our leave, then. Put a good word in for us with the Boss.”
“Naturally! Don’t you worry. You’ve earned it — go and have a drink with your boys. When the chance comes I’ll lay on a proper spread for us.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll leave you to it.”

Duho made his farewells, gathered his men and disappeared. Only when the party was well out of sight did the lieutenant give his own men their orders.

“Take the carts. We’re heading for the storehouse.”
“Yes, sir!”

The men set to hauling the carts, and behind them a single man followed in secret.

The lieutenant took the carts deep in along the mountain track, the smile never leaving his face.

They say this stuff works wonders, don’t they? Keep back half and sell it quietly, and there’d be real money in it.

The heavy pouch inside his robe was a comfort. For a good while yet, it seemed, he could wander in and out of the pleasure houses as though they were his own front room.

He was still steeped in the happy daydream when his bladder sent up a signal. He raised a hand and brought the party to a halt.

“Hold up. Stop a moment.”
“Is something the matter, sir?”
“I’m off to water the trees. Stand by a moment.”
“Yes, sir.”

The moment he vanished into the trees the men gathered in threes and fours and started up their chatter. Trailing behind them, Duho did not miss the opening.

Now.

Killing the sound of his steps, Duho crept up to the very back of the carts. He opened the empty crate he had prepared beforehand, folded himself into it and pulled the lid shut.

A little later he heard the lieutenant’s voice, back from the trees.

“Move out again!”

The carts rattled into motion once more. Shut in the crate while it rolled on without a break, he was just beginning to stiffen all over when a voice came from outside.

“Store the crates in the storehouse. It’s valuable stock, so mind it properly and let nothing go wrong. I’m off to make my report to the Boss.”
“Yes, sir!”

On the lieutenant’s order the men set busily to shifting the crates. Then the turn came for the last one, the crate Duho was folded into.

“Ugh — why’s this one so heavy?”
“Never mind that, take a proper hold. Put your back into it.”

Grumbling all the way, the men carried it into the storehouse.

— Creeeak.

The storehouse door shut, and every sign of anyone alive went with it. Inside, the quiet ran so deep that all he could hear were the insects and a torch burning.

— Clunk.

Duho eased the lid aside and put his head out. He waited a while longer in the crate in case of trouble, and when nothing stirred he climbed out.

“Ohhh…”

He looked around the storehouse and let out a small sound of wonder. Silk, precious metals and weapons of every kind stood piled up in mountains, a staggering amount of treasure even at a glance.

This bastard’s done his share of wickedness and then some.

He had made his own living by robbery, but he had always kept to a line that would not break a merchant company’s back. Nobody piled up this much without squeezing the lifeblood out of ordinary people. He could guess well enough now what sort of man Black Leopard was.

He’ll be weeping tears of blood tonight, and no mistake.

He pictured the man howling, and the corners of his mouth went up.

Duho killed the sound of his steps again and put his ear to the storehouse door. Nothing came from outside, so he eased it open. As luck had it the guard was nowhere in sight, gone off somewhere. Nothing could have suited him better.

He opened the crate that held the medicine and cleared away the neat top layer, and underneath it was packed with straw. A sharp smell of oil came rushing up his nose in the same moment.

“Yang Mujin, that bastard… He really is a lunatic.”

A hollow laugh escaped him. The crate was full to the lid with bundles of straw soaked through with oil.

He remembered what Yang Mujin had said when they found out the Great Saber Gang meant to rob the medicine.

Once they’ve taken the medicine, they’re bound to move it to the storehouse where they keep their valuables. You trail them, hide yourself in an empty crate, and ride in with it.

The guess had hit the mark dead on, and it had walked Duho all the way into the treasure storehouse at the Great Saber Gang’s heart without a drop of blood spilled.

And then Mujin’s last instruction.

Once you’re inside, burn it. We’ll take the price of the medicine out of what’s in there.

So that was why he had given the medicine up so meekly. Give away a few crates of it and blow the whole hoard away in exchange. That was the arithmetic.

Ruthless. And not by any ordinary measure, either.

Then again, thinking back to the Bound-Hand Duel and the beating he took there without so much as a chance to surrender, the man is a demon come up out of hell, no question.

Shaking his head, Duho carried the crates of oiled straw to spots all through the storehouse. He set them beside the bales of silk that would catch fast, against the stacks of bone-dry timber, and out through the middle and into the corners, so that the whole place would burn evenly.

With every crate placed, he drew a pair of flame sticks from inside his robe¹, one for each hand, pulled the caps off and blew. Flame leapt up.

— Hssk! Hsssssk!

He could picture the face of the leader of the Great Saber Gang as the man gulped wine straight from the jar to settle his burning gut and suffered for it.

“Here — just put it down to crossing the wrong lunatic.”

Without a moment’s hesitation Duho threw the burning flame sticks onto the crates at either end.

— Fwoosh! Fwoo-oosh!

The oil-soaked straw went up. The flames roared and caught on the rest of the treasure in an instant, and the air inside the storehouse turned scorching. Duho pulled his mask up tight over his nose and mouth.

Acrid smoke began to fill the storehouse from the ceiling down, but he did not move at once. He waited until the fire had gone past the straw and taken firm hold of the goods themselves. He did not have to wait long. Through the oil-soaked crates the fire ran at a terrifying speed.

A fire this far gone — water or earth will never put it out.

Duho nodded, satisfied. There was nobody left who could stop it now.

He kicked the storehouse door open, ran out, and shouted at the top of his voice.

“Fire! Fire! The storehouse is on fire!”

The instant Duho’s shout rang out, startled voices burst up from every direction.

“What? Fire? Where?!”
“The storehouse! The storehouse is on fire!”

The Great Saber Gang’s men came swarming to the front of the storehouse. One look at the black smoke pouring from the gaps in the door and the blood-red blaze behind it, and every face went white in a moment.

“Hey! Get water! Quick!”
“Throw dirt on it, anything! Now!”

Men came running with buckets and flung water at the flames. Far from going out, the fire only blazed the higher. They did not know it, but no single bucket of water was ever going to kill a fire set in oil-soaked straw.

“It’s not going out!”
“Why’s it getting bigger?!”
“There isn’t enough water! Bring more!”
“Never mind water, pour dirt on it too!”

They hauled water and earth for all they were worth, and it was nowhere near enough for a fire that had spread through the whole storehouse. With every moment that passed the blaze only grew fiercer.

“Do something, anything!”
“If we can’t put this out we’re all dead! You think the Boss will let it pass?”
“Faster! Put it out, faster!”

The men shouted and drove one another on. Gripped by the terror of dying at Black Leopard’s hands if the fire was not put out, they clung to it grimly. It was not a fire that would go out for any of that. The flames had already swallowed the storehouse and were reaching into the building beside it.

While the gang rushed about out of their wits, Duho slipped quietly away. Up on top of the wall he turned and looked back. A vast tongue of flame punched through the storehouse roof and lit the night up like day.

“That bastard Black Leopard. He won’t be getting any sleep tonight.”

Humming to himself, Duho went over the wall. Watching the flames shrink behind him, he thought of Yang Mujin’s face.

He really is a frightening bastard.

He had deliberately let the medicine be taken exactly as the enemy planned it, to put them off their guard, and then turned the same thing round to make their whole hoard worthless. The astonishing part was that he had thought the entire scheme up the moment the leader of the Great Saber Gang told him to go and rob the medicine. In less time than it takes to eat a meal.

Thank God I’m on that bastard’s side.

Being on the same side as Yang Mujin brought a wave of relief with it. Getting beaten half to death at the Bound-Hand Duel and having it over and done with began to feel like a piece of luck. Black Leopard was going to come off far worse than he had.

No, he was already getting it, wasn’t he?

Duho shuddered before he knew he was doing it.

“Ugh — that gives me the creeps.”

Rubbing at his arms, Duho vanished smartly into the dark.

The great blaze burned on, as though it meant to swallow even the darkness.