Feudal Dregs - Chapter 65

"Third Young Master Li, if you please," said a tall, lean man with narrow, triangular eyes and thin lips that gave him a perpetually sneering expression.

Li Ming'an was shoved forward and forced to sit at a rickety wooden table, where a sheet of paper and an inkbrush lay waiting. He wrenched his arms free from the two men gripping him, glaring furiously at the man before him.

Li Ming'an had never expected to encounter bandits.

A group of over a hundred ruthless outlaws, armed with guns and weapons, had surrounded his party. Their leader, a man in his forties with a broken eyebrow and thick lips, had ridden ahead on horseback, barking orders as they closed in. Li Ming'an had been traveling with his family's merchant convoy, and though he had brought attendants, they were no match for these desperate men. After a fierce struggle, he had been bound, blindfolded, and hauled up the mountain.

The triangular-eyed man grinned. "No need to look at me like that. We're just trying to make a living."

Li Ming'an's voice was low and cold. "Which gang do you belong to, daring to rob the Li family's convoy?"

"Yours is exactly the family we wanted to rob," someone nearby scoffed. "Quit acting like a young master—you're just a hostage now. Write." Li Ming'an pressed his lips together.

The triangular-eyed man, the third-in-command of the bandit stronghold, raised a hand. "Don't frighten our golden goose. Third Young Master, if you cooperate, you'll save yourself some trouble, won't you?"

Li Ming'an sneered. "Do you really think kidnapping us will get you anything? Don't delude yourselves."

The third-in-command remained unruffled, leaning one hand on the table. "Third Young Master, we wouldn't have dared to take you if we hadn't done our research. In Beijing, we wouldn't have touched you. But this isn't Beijing."

"Please don't drag this out with us. We're rough men with little patience," the Third Boss said with a smile. "The lady in the carriage who came up the mountain with you—that's your esteemed mother, isn't it? If you refuse to write, we'll have to ask her instead." His tone remained polite as he added thoughtfully, "Noble families are different indeed. Even at her age, she's still so beautiful."

Li Ming'an's pupils constricted as he glared fiercely at the man before him. "You wouldn't dare!"

The Third Boss continued, "It would be best for you to finish writing soon. You should know our stronghold is full of men who've never seen such a beautiful woman. They might get... excited. We can control them for now, but who knows what might happen given time?"

Li Ming'an's fingers clenched into fists, his chest heaving violently for several moments before he suppressed his rage. With a heavy motion, he pulled out the wooden chair, took up the brush, and said coldly, "What should I write?"

The Third Boss smiled. "I'll dictate, Third Young Master will write."

His demands were the usual ransom fare. Li Ming'an's calligraphy was elegant, but his brush paused when the man casually mentioned two hundred thousand silver dollars. "For someone as precious as the Third Young Master and your mother, two hundred thousand is hardly excessive," the Third Boss said.

Li Ming'an sneered, "I only fear you won't live long enough to spend it."

"No need for the Third Young Master to worry about that," the Third Boss replied, taking the completed ransom note with satisfaction. "We brothers have weathered storms and battles—we've seen it all. If we dare demand this money, we're not afraid of the King of Hell coming for us."

With that, he glanced at the bandits flanking Li Ming'an. One grabbed the young master's shoulder, only to be shoved away angrily. "Get off! I can walk myself," Li Ming'an snapped. The two younger bandits, particularly incensed by his aristocratic disdain, moved to strike but were stopped by the Third Boss.

Just a wall away, they escorted Li Ming'an back to the dilapidated shack holding the hostages. As the door opened, Madam Zhao hurried forward with her maid's support. "Ming'an!"

"Mother," he answered, gripping her hand tightly. She scrutinized him head to toe, relieved to find him unharmed, then pulled him protectively behind her while eyeing the bandits warily.

The men's gazes lingered on Madam Zhao with undisguised lechery, sending chills down her spine, yet she maintained her firm hold on her son's hand. Li Ming'an stepped forward, shielding her from their view with a venomous glare.

The bandits responded with mocking grins—hardened outlaws with blood on their hands, growing bolder by the minute. Their eyes drifted to the glimpse of Madam Zhao's bound feet beneath her disheveled skirts, then lingered hungrily on her two maids. "According to custom," the Third Boss drawled, "this letter still needs... proof of identity."

Li Ming'an asked, "What else do you want?"

One of the men smirked maliciously and said, "Fingers, of course. We usually send fingers along with the ransom letter."

Madame Zhao paled at his words and pleaded, "Don't cut my son's fingers—take mine instead!"

Li Ming'an watched as the man drew a knife. Though he had never faced such a situation before, he forced himself to stay calm. The dimly lit room reeked of decay and blood. Clenching his fists, he said, "You just want to intimidate us." He then pulled out the longevity lock hanging around his neck—an exquisitely crafted piece adorned with gleaming gemstones, clearly of great value.

Taking it off, he said, "I've worn this since childhood. Chopping off an unrecognizable finger is pointless compared to giving you this." He locked eyes with the third-in-command, who clapped his hands after a moment and laughed. "Third Young Master, you're a man of action!"

Satisfied, the men took the longevity lock and the ransom note before locking the door behind them. Faint voices drifted in from outside.

"Rich families are different—even their maids are pretty."

"Damn right," another chuckled. "Third Boss, if we can't touch the mistress, can't we at least have some fun with the maids?"

The third-in-command scolded, "Keep your damn urges in check. Unless the boss says otherwise, no one touches them."

The two young maids trembled in fear, sobbing quietly. "Madame... Young Master...

Li Ming'an steadied Madame Zhao and glanced at the wounded servants. Of the thirty or forty who had set out with them, only four or five remained—even the Zhao family's men had been slaughtered by the bandits. Taking a deep breath, he said, "Don't be afraid. They're only after money."

But even as he spoke, doubt gnawed at him. These bandits were unlike ordinary outlaws. Ordinary bandits sought wealth but never dared target powerful families like theirs.

These men, however, were utterly ruthless.

Gently squeezing Madame Zhao's hand, he whispered, "Mother, don't worry. We're in Jining—our family has a branch here. Once we gather the ransom, we'll be safe."

Madame Zhao looked at his dirt-streaked face and forced a weak smile. "I'm fine."

"That longevity lock... Your father had it specially made when you were born, to protect you..."

Li Ming'an reassured her, "It's just an object. I'm still safe and sound, aren't I?"

Madame Zhao sighed softly.

***

Author Note: The choice of Jining and Lanling as settings is purely for narrative suitability and aesthetic appeal, with no negative connotations intended.

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