“Ugh.”

  “Huff.”

  They fought in silence, focused and grim. Zhang Ming spent enormous effort avoiding the attacks, constantly tense, afraid to lose sight of his opponent for even a moment. What kept him alive was his inhuman endurance, his reactions, and his ability to circulate inner energy to restore himself even in the middle of battle. Even so, fatigue was gradually building up in both of them.

  When Assistant Mo slowed just a little more, Zhang Ming suddenly closed the distance. He slipped under the sword, nearly losing his head in the process, and slammed his shoulder into the massive waist of his opponent while hooking his legs beneath the man’s knees. Pushing off the ground, he carried Mo Dushi’s massive body with him for nearly four steps before the two of them crashed heavily to the ground together.

  Local martial practitioners despised grappling; rolling around on the ground was considered beneath a true warrior. Mo Dushi had never encountered such tactics before, and the impact with the ground left him slightly stunned. Zhang Ming seized the opportunity immediately. In a matter of moments, he drove his forehead straight into Assistant Mo’s face, then twisted the arm holding the sword into a painful lock, forcing him to drop the weapon.

  Finally, something from my old world is useful, Zhang Ming thought. I’m terrible with a sword, but I know how to wrestle.

  Like two fighting dogs, the opponents tore at each other while rolling across the ground. Mo Dushi relied on brute strength, ripping free from holds only to fall into new ones. Zhang Ming wrapped himself around him like an octopus, arms and legs entangling the larger man. To the mighty warrior Mo, it began to feel as though he had fallen into a sticky swamp that dragged him deeper and deeper, draining his strength. Lying on the ground made it impossible for him to deliver a powerful strike, while nothing stopped Zhang Ming from turning his face into a bloody mess.

  “Aaaargh!” Mo Dushi roared like a wild beast. Never before had he felt such humiliation.

  “You look like pigs rolling in the mud.”

  A voice sounded above them, and a sword pierced them both.

  The sudden pain made Zhang Ming’s grip loosen instantly, and his right arm lost all strength entirely. At the same moment Mo Dushi easily tore himself free, lifted Zhang Ming at arm’s length, then bent his leg and kicked him away like a sack of potatoes. Another sword strike nearly split his neck, but rolling across the ground, Mo Dushi quickly sprang to his feet, already gripping his weapon again.

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  “As tough as ever,” the mocking voice said.

  “Who dares?” Assistant Mo growled. “Who are you?”

  “Oh! Brother Zhang really did a number on you if you can’t even recognize me. What’s the matter, Little Mo?”

  “Lao Yu! You bastard!” Mo Dushi roared. “Why are you helping him?”

  “Tsk. Well, here’s the thing… while you two were fighting, I checked the cache under the house. You know, there’s a lot in there. Enough to last me a lifetime. I could bathe in wine…”

  “Take it!”

  “Hahaha! Little Mo, you’d hunt me down like a hound the moment you recovered. And besides, I have no reason to leave you alive.”

  “Ha! You dare threaten me? A pitiful cripple who lost all his strength.” Mo Dushi pointed at him.

  “Hey now! I lost some of it, not all. I’ve still got enough left for you.”

  “You were the one who helped me become the assistant to the Brown Boar. You helped Tang Guyu poison the previous commander…”

  “That was supposed to be our secret. And here you are wagging your tongue about it. That’s not very nice,” the shaggy bandit said, pretending to look offended.

  “Go to hell, Lao Yu!”

  Meanwhile Zhang Ming had regained a little awareness. From the deep wound in his shoulder, a crimson stain spread across his clothes. He tossed the remaining healing pills into his mouth and listened carefully to the conversation. But with every word spoken, his expression grew darker. His friend was not quite the man he had imagined.

  “Old Yu… what are you doing here?” he finally asked.

  “Oh! You’re awake! You know, I was watching the fight. You surprised me, kid! You’ve got real talent!” the shaggy bandit exclaimed. “You’ve barely practiced the sword, yet you still held your own against this lazy hog…”

  “Cough… cough… What are you doing here?” Zhang Ming repeated, spitting blood.

  “Uh… I followed you. For me, finding someone on this mountain is easier than blowing my nose. I’ve spent more than twenty years here, after all…”

  Noticing that Mo Dushi was reaching for a medicinal pill, the shaggy bandit attacked immediately. Unlike Zhang Ming, he wielded a sword with great skill. The wounded Mo was at a disadvantage. He rasped and cursed, striking with blows that shook the ground, but after only a few breaths the blade pierced his throat. And as soon as his arms fell limp at his sides, Lao Yu severed his head with a single stroke.

  What a pitiful death… Zhang Ming thought. After all the trouble I went through…

  “What now?” he said aloud, never taking his eyes off the shaggy bandit.

  “Heh-heh… well… I think you already understand,” the man replied, scratching his nose. “I’ll have to kill you. Don’t take it personally…”

  “Go to hell! Cough… cough…”

  “I truly wanted to change. To become a better man.” Lao Yu flicked the blood from his sword. “I thought that if I followed you, I’d definitely become someone different. But seeing all that treasure…” He gestured toward the cache buried beneath the ruined house. “I just can’t turn it down. Looks like changing is harder than I thought. A bandit — that’s what I am.”

  “There’s enough there for both of us! I don’t need any of it!”

  “Heh-heh-heh. I don’t want to live looking over my shoulder. I don’t know what technique you’re using, but you’re growing too fast. I won’t get another chance.” He scratched the back of his head. “You’re a good kid. Just unlucky.”

  “Wait! We can make a deal. We’ll go our separate ways…”

  “Nooo need to stall for time. No one’s coming to save you,” Lao Yu said, shaking his head. “Farewell, Zhang Ming.”