Chapter 17
Chapter 17: Bandit
Jin Sui chased around two bends and still didn’t see Jin An.
That kid ran faster than a rabbit.
Then she heard Jin An’s voice, sharp with fear.
“Don’t come! There are bad people!”
Jin Sui’s head snapped up.
Before she could even process it, the ground gave way under her foot.
She dropped with a thump into a concealed pit.
She scrambled up, heart pounding.
Two burly men stood at the rim, curved sabers resting on their shoulders, grinning down at her.
“Another one!” one of them laughed. “We’re really lucky today. Nobody ever comes through Black Mountain Pass. We might catch a deer if we’re lucky, but today? Two fat sheep.”
The other leaned forward.
“How many companions do you have?”
Jin Sui forced a pleading smile.
“Sir, spare us. It’s just the two of us—brothers.”
After traveling with Grandpa Ling so long, she’d learned one rule: say whatever kept you breathing.
A sharp whistle cut through the air—somewhere up in the branches.
The bandit’s boot slammed into Jin Sui’s side, knocking her over.
“Slippery brat.”
He turned to his companion.
“Get ready. There’s another one behind them.”
Soon Jin Sui’s hands and feet were tied too, and she and Jin An were strung together on the same rope.
Jin An’s face was soaked with guilt.
His voice shook.
“I’m sorry. It’s my fault, Brother.”
Jin Sui leaned close and hissed, “Now you understand how hard it is to get to Chang An, don’t you? If you know you’re wrong, fix it. From now on, listen to Grandpa.”
“Father is your father, and he’s mine too. And he’s Grandpa’s own son. Do you really think we wouldn’t care?”
Jin An bit his lip, eyes red. He didn’t cry out loud, but the tears sat there, trembling.
He admitted what Jin Sui had already guessed: that night, he’d overheard Grandpa and Sister talking. He’d been terrified they didn’t want to go to Chang An, terrified they would let Father’s case fade away.
In the mountains, they met wolves and tigers.
The moment they found a road, instead of woodcutters and hunters, they met bandits.
Jin Sui didn’t bother shouting for Grandpa Ling.
It would be useless.
With Grandpa’s bad ankle, he couldn’t outrun anyone.
Better for all three of them not to panic. Better to stay alive and find a way out.
Not long after, a bandit dragged Grandpa Ling over by the rope.
The bandit scowled.
“A lame old man. Useless. We should just kill him here.”
Jin Sui shouted quickly, “My grandfather is a Celestial Master from Azure Cloud Mountain! He carries a Divine Calculations Banner! He’s best at readings—he’s useful!”
A bandit with fierce eyes burst into laughter.
“So good at reading? Then why didn’t he read that he’d meet us today?”
Jin Sui wanted to groan.
Why did bandits always say that?
Grandpa Ling sighed as if regretful.
“This old Daoist is bound by fate. I can only cast one reading a day—”
The bandit’s face turned ugly.
Grandpa Ling immediately changed course.
“However, I can read faces. Sir’s face shows you lost your parents young, and petty people stole your property.”
The bandit froze.
“But when you turn thirty, your luck changes,” Grandpa Ling continued, voice smooth. “Danger turns to safety, as long as you—”
The bandit leaned in.
“As long as I what?”
Grandpa Ling stroked his beard, glancing at Jin Sui and Jin An as if weighing his words.
“As long as you create fewer killings, sir will rise and build a great domain for yourself.”
That hit home.
The moment Grandpa Ling spoke of losing parents young and being robbed, the bandit believed him halfway.
And bandits had their taboos.
Killing monks and Daoists invited bad karma.
So the bandit waved his hand.
“This old Daoist has some skill. Tie him up and bring him back to the stronghold. Let the bandit chief decide.”
The bandit didn’t object, but he pressed his blade to Jin An’s throat.
“If you run or shout, I kill the kid first.”
Jin Sui didn’t plead for Jin An.
She wanted him to feel it.
Let today teach him what stubbornness cost.
Grandpa Ling kept looking around as they walked, trying to memorize the path.
But they hadn’t gone far before the bandits blindfolded them and tugged them along by rope.
Grandpa Ling snorted softly.
“People who live by killing and robbing—how many of them have a happy family? Even if they lose something through their own carelessness, they’ll blame some petty villain.”
“‘Lost your parents young and got harmed by petty people’—for people of the road, nine out of ten will nod along.”
Jin Sui was impressed despite herself.
This wasn’t mysticism.
It was understanding people.
Jin An tripped again and again as they walked.
The bandit dragging him didn’t even bother. He just yanked the rope harder.
Jin Sui noticed Jin An’s blindfold cloth was wet.
His voice was raw.
“I’m sorry, Grandpa. It’s my fault.”
Grandpa Ling answered gently, “It’s fine. Grandpa and Sister don’t blame you. Even if you hadn’t run, we still wouldn’t have escaped today.”
A bandit jerked the rope.
“Move! Keep talking and I’ll kill you.”
They fell silent.
When the blindfolds were ripped away, Jin Sui saw a stockade built from wood and bamboo, tucked deep in a valley.
Bandits moved about with whips and sabers.
One bandit on the road was scary enough.
But standing before the stronghold, Jin Sui felt it in her bones: these bandits were organized.
Controlled.
Disciplined.
They weren’t just roadside thieves hunting merchants.
She thought of the mole-faced bandit from before—he’d been snatching ordinary people too.
Across hundreds of miles… had banditry shifted from robbery to kidnapping?
The escort shoved the three of them into a woodshed.
“Stay here. Try to run, I’ll break your legs.”
He locked the door and left.
Jin Sui immediately checked the back window.
Before she could pry at it, Jin An pointed at a straw pile and blurted, “There’s someone here!”
Jin Sui went over, first wanting to know if the person was alive.
She pulled the straw aside.
A man lay beneath—covered in injuries.
Two bloody whip marks cut across his face. His clothes were shredded, and his skin was striped with wounds. His ankle was locked in an iron shackle so tight and worn that bone showed through torn flesh.
Jin Sui reached to check his breathing.
His eyes snapped open.
Jin Sui’s first reaction was pure relief.
She turned her head and said, “Good. He’s alive.”
Grandpa Ling lurched forward in panic.
“Let go! Don’t hurt my grandson!”
The wounded man slowly sat up, eyes sharp even through exhaustion. He looked at the three of them, confirming they weren’t bandits, and only then released Jin Sui.
Jin Sui rubbed her wrist and stared.
Long brows.
Cold phoenix eyes.
High nose, thin lips.
Even soaked in blood and grime, he was still striking.
And familiar.
Grandpa Ling stepped close and murmured in her ear, “The wanted poster. You forgot?”
Jin Sui’s breath caught.
She hadn’t just seen him on a poster.
He was the man from the reeds—the one they had treated and bandaged that night.