Chapter Forty-Two: Suspicion

Before encountering the first wave of mountain bandits, Hu San divided the team in two. Zhao Feng led the others, transporting the bodies of twenty bandits to Langming Village. Under the cover of night, they stirred up a commotion, then tossed the corpses directly into the Hu family’s courtyard. In the daylight, they gathered everyone and, in full view of the villagers, carried the bodies out.

The previous incident had occurred at night, shrouded in secrecy, and though a few young women had glimpsed it, no one dared to speak out. This time, however, they brazenly paraded the bandit corpses in public. Deliberate confusion sowed by certain parties gradually merged the two events into one in the villagers’ minds, with all manner of rumors circulating. The most common tale was that bandits had come to the village looking for trouble but were wiped out to the last man by Hu San and his men upon their return.

Around Langya Mountain, Hu San, borrowing the name of the Black Bear, slaughtered almost all the people from Langya Stronghold who dared to descend the mountain. Five or six days later, Hu San rejoined Zhao Feng and the others, and together they returned to Langxin Stronghold, finally drawing a close to the matter.

Yet the carnage Hu San wrought in the name of the Black Bear lingered like a chilling wind, leaving the people of Langya Mountain too terrified to descend for more than ten days. By the time the true extent of the “Black Bear”’s deeds was discovered, the corpses were already rotting, gnawed to pieces by wild beasts—identities discernible only by clothing and weapons.

By then, Hu San had long since returned to Langxin Stronghold, where he confessed his actions to the chief. The strangest part of it all was not what Hu San had done, but what happened after he stopped. Even then, “Black Bear” continued to strike now and then, slaughtering the robbers of Langya Stronghold. This raised more than a few eyebrows.

Perhaps it was the remnants of the Black Bear gang, or perhaps the Black Bear himself, drawn by Hu San’s commotion and continuing his work, thus perfectly masking Hu San’s involvement.

Meanwhile, in the main hall of Langxin Stronghold, the three chiefs sat in council. At their head was the mysterious chief, draped in a black robe and wearing a mask that concealed every inch of skin.

Below him sat the second chief—a refined scholar with black hair, holding an iron-ribbed folding fan. He oversaw virtually all of the stronghold’s affairs, answering only to the chief.

The third chief sat below them, a burly man with a bristly beard and an imposing presence, made even more formidable by his mastery of advanced martial arts.

Hu San barely dared glance at them before bowing low and announcing, “During my return home, I mistakenly encountered one of our own patrols and, failing to recognize them, slew two squads—over twenty men. I have committed a grave crime and beg the chiefs for punishment.”

The three chiefs exchanged glances, scrutinizing Hu San intently. They were already well aware of the incident—how could they not be, when Hu San had dragged back twenty-four lime-painted heads? Even had they wished to ignore it, it was impossible.

“How dare you, Hu San! Why did you slaughter twenty-four of your own brothers? Speak, now!” the third chief thundered, slamming his fist onto the table, a wild aura surging from him and filling the hall.

“Chief, I returned home to visit my kin, but found two squads of bandits rampaging through my village, and even my own relatives had been butchered. In a fit of rage, I struck without restraint. Only when it was too late did I realize they were our own men—all twenty-four had already fallen.”

“I am guilty, and dare not ask for forgiveness. I only beg the chiefs to mete out justice.”

Hu San’s voice trembled, his posture contrite as he recited the excuse he had prepared.

“Hmph, at least you know your place. Chief, Second Brother, I say we execute the brat—only that will appease the souls of the twenty-four dead,” the third chief sneered, giving his verdict.

The chief said nothing, only gazing at Hu San for a long moment before sighing, “Such a strong scent of blood—Hu San, you have killed many.”

With those words, he fell silent, seemingly leaving the matter for the other two to decide.

A thoughtful glint flickered in the second chief’s eyes. He smiled, flicked open his fan, and said, “Though Hu San has erred, it seems to be a tragic misunderstanding. Considering his past service, let us spare him for now and assign a lesser punishment.”

“Well said, Second Brother,” the third chief agreed, quickly following suit. “Very well, Hu San, you are relieved of your captaincy. Serve as a squad leader, acting as captain until you have atoned for your crime—then you may be reinstated.”

This was hardly a punishment at all. The second chief merely smiled knowingly, as if he had expected it.

“So be it,” the chief pronounced, ending the matter.

“Many thanks, chiefs! I shall devote myself wholeheartedly in gratitude for your mercy,” Hu San exclaimed, expressing profound thanks. He knew that the scar-faced commander had already pleaded on his behalf, which had clearly worked. Otherwise, though he would not have lost his life over the death of twenty-four ordinary bandits, a severe beating would have been unavoidable—unlike now, when he was merely brushed aside with a token demotion.

“Though I have bought myself some time, once news comes from Langya Mountain, the second chief will likely grow suspicious. I must speed up my cultivation,” Hu San thought as he stole a glance at the second chief’s unruffled expression and took his leave.

It had been over two months since his appointment as captain. With abundant meat at hand, his internal energy cultivation had progressed rapidly, and he was close to breaking through to the second level. By his estimate, he needed only a month more to reach it. Once he did, combined with his formidable physique, he would have more options even in desperate situations—unlike his current helplessness.

Thus, Hu San threw himself into his training with reckless abandon, ignoring stronghold affairs entirely. He entrusted everything to Lin Hu and Zhao Feng, while he roamed the mountains alone—hunting wild beasts, roasting their flesh, practicing the Fish Step, perfecting the Flat Blade, and cultivating his internal strength. Beset by troubles within and without, Hu San’s training grew ever more frenzied, and his progress was plain to see.

Even as he grew stronger by the day, intelligence regarding the Black Bear’s attacks on Langya Stronghold was finally compiled and sent to Langxin Stronghold, causing a great uproar.

In a secluded mountain pavilion, the second chief sat grim-faced, his trembling lips betraying his agitation, his eyes fixed on a green token lying on the table. Before him knelt a man in black, his body covered in footprints and his face swollen and bruised from many slaps. It was not hard to guess who had administered the beating.

“My son is dead—why are you still alive?” the second chief spat coldly, all his usual composure gone, reduced to a furious, solitary wolf.

The man in black dared not speak, bowing repeatedly until blood slicked the polished floor.

“Enough. Tell me, who is responsible for this?”

After a quarter of an hour, during which the man nearly cracked his skull, the second chief finally allowed him to stop.

“Master, it was the Black Bear who killed your son. Seeking vengeance against Langxin Stronghold, the Black Bear led his remaining followers to relentlessly attack our people. In just a month, casualties have exceeded a thousand.”

“It is only by luck that I made it here alive. Many others died on the way.”

The second chief frowned and fell silent. This explanation made sense, yet he could not shake the feeling that something was amiss.

“Has the Black Bear been active recently?”

“Still active, but not as frenzied as before—perhaps wary of provoking a reprisal from Langxin Stronghold’s main force.”

“Still active? Are you certain?”

“Yes, I am sure. Someone has seen the Black Bear—there is no mistake.”

The second chief paced for a moment, then abruptly shifted the topic. “You have long served at Langya Stronghold. Tell me, is it possible that Liu Feng and Ge Huan’s squads went to Hu San’s home village looking for trouble?”

“Um…” The man hesitated, then nodded. “No one knew Captain Hu’s home was Langming Village. But you know our ways—if they passed through, of course they would stop for a rest. Liu Feng and Ge Huan are no saints; it is entirely possible. Even I have been there myself.”

“Now tell me—after Hu San left, did the frequency of Black Bear’s attacks on Langya Stronghold decrease?”

“Was the most intense period during the time Hu San was away?”

The second chief rubbed his brow, as if unable to untangle something in his mind, and pressed for answers.

Before the man in black could reply, a purple-clad figure sitting at the stone table spoke up. “Second Chief, do you suspect Hu San had something to do with your son’s death? That seems unlikely.”

“How could Hu San have a conflict with your son?”

“I do not know. But I find it odd that Hu San’s killing of two bandit squads over the villagers’ deaths seems fishy. And the Black Bear’s attacks—why did they start only after Hu San left? It all feels… orchestrated.”

The second chief wavered, clearly unsure, and hesitated.

Hearing this, the man in black shuddered violently, finally understanding the true purpose behind the second chief’s questions. He stammered, “Master, the fiercest attacks lasted a long time. Judging by Hu San’s return date, he likely had already left Langya Mountain by then.”

“Am I just being paranoid?” the second chief muttered, glancing again at the green token. A flash of grief passed through his eyes. He had come to this godforsaken place for the sake of his family—his wife and eldest son far away, only his younger son left by his side. Over time, that bond had grown deep—unimaginably so for others.

The death of his younger son was as if a knife had been driven into his heart. The pain nearly drove him mad, and every doubt grew larger and larger, which was why he could not let go of his suspicions about Hu San.