Chapter Sixty-Four: Tied Together for One Last Gamble

General Akberil lifted his head. “Very well, I promise I will. But regarding our plan to join the Qing army in next year’s campaign, I don’t believe it is feasible.”

Lopatin’s displeasure was evident. “I drafted that plan myself. Do you really think that sixty thousand Qing soldiers, plus our ten thousand Russian troops, can’t take Gulu Mountain from less than two thousand bandits? I admit, I failed at Gaotun because I didn’t heed your advice, but this time, I’m determined to take Gulu Mountain.”

The commander broke into a confident smile and turned to open a crate of liquor behind him. “Care for a drink? Brandy or vodka?”

Despair was already showing in Akberil’s eyes. “Yang the Ghost is not Tang Yulin—they are not the same!”

“Even if he were made of iron, seven of us against his two thousand—I simply can’t see how he stands a chance.”

“His chance is that he knows how to run! This time, when the Qing army tried to encircle him, he simply ran for it, then came back and looted our mines! If you lead seventy thousand men into the Changbai Mountains, you won’t even see his shadow!”

Akberil grew agitated, but Lopatin remained calm. “Don’t speak to me that way, my old friend. I am still your superior. What you said, I’ve already considered. I’ll approach him quietly, give him no warning—like a cat stalking a mouse.”

As they argued, the bell hanging on the door suddenly jingled. Akberil swallowed his words. A young Russian entered. “General, Miss Domlikshava is at the door. She’s leaving for Beijing tomorrow and has come to bid you farewell.”

Lopatin smiled at Akberil, then whispered in his ear. “Say no more. Do as you wish, but don’t drag me into it. I don’t want those people upstairs to loathe me as they do you. When I was an officer, you were already a general. Now I’m the commander and you’re still a general. Perhaps it’s time you reflect on that. Akberil, why not use your excellent military and diplomatic talents in politics? Who knows—we might have switched places by now.”

Akberil replied, “Because enemies must be deceived, but among our own, unity is vital!”

Lopatin chuckled. “I think our own people need deceiving even more. Enough quarreling. I have a charming lady waiting for me now—could you excuse yourself?”

With that, he opened the door. Akberil stormed out, just in time to run into Domlikshava. She seemed to want to speak, but Akberil strode past her quickly.

“Commander, I’ve come to say goodbye, and to thank you for your care. I believe I should accept your arrangement and go to Beijing.”

The commander sat down, wearing the kindly expression of an old patriarch. “That’s right, child. Beijing is a good place. How’s your Chinese coming along?”

“It’s not very good yet, but I can understand simple conversation.”

“You can learn more when you arrive. That’s the Qing court’s imperial city—a grand, bustling place. Centuries ago, the world was at her feet, but now, any country can trample her. You’ll see for yourself—the Qing are very easy to push around. Perhaps it will help you forget your troubles here.”

Domlikshava smiled, but her smile had lost its innocence, tinged now with the falseness of social courtesy. The events here had scarred her, both physically and emotionally. She longed to forget it all and hoped a new environment might help her heal more quickly.

But Domlikshava did not know—her story with Ergantzi was not finished. She was destined for more suffering. The greatest sorrow in life is not being unable to be with the one you love, but constantly crossing paths with someone you detest.

Yang Xiaolin had returned to Gulu Mountain. The training for the bandits was about to begin. Judging from the first day, the Japanese instructors were taking their task seriously, which was Yang’s main concern—he dreaded being taken for a fool.

He knew his men were not far from being a real army. They had fighting spirit, which was crucial. Now they needed to learn combat skills. Combine the two—and you have an army. Whether it would be a steel-clad force or cannon fodder depended on whether they could survive enemy fire.

The bandits were now mostly laborers, but they were tough and diligent, not slacking off at all. This pleased Yang Xiaolin greatly and filled him with confidence for the future. His brothers were doing their part; whether he could lead them into the future he had envisioned depended entirely on his own abilities.

Yang Xiaolin turned to ask Kong Luodi and Jin Dadao behind him, “How did the food distribution go this time? Are the villagers still hostile?”

Jin Dadao grinned. “Much better this time. We gave out food just in time. With the mountains sealed by snow, many families were starving. When we delivered the supplies, there was nothing like last time. Oh, right, about Ertou Mountain, let’s forget it. When Biaozi’s group went to distribute food again, the people there apologized profusely and treated us like living Buddhas!”

Yang Xiaolin looked at him. “Doesn’t it feel rewarding?”

Jin Dadao nodded. “You know what they call us now? They say we’re chivalrous bandits robbing the rich to help the poor—ha!”

Jin Dadao was delighted; after all, “chivalrous bandit” was the highest aspiration for a bandit! But Yang Xiaolin didn’t share his joy—bandit or not, the common folk still saw them as robbers, and that wouldn’t do.

Yang Xiaolin took a cigarette from his pocket. “It seems we haven’t done enough. We need the people here to truly believe that with us, their lives will get better.”

Kong Luodi was troubled. “Chief, we’ve given them all our food—what little we kept will only last us till spring. We can’t give any more.”

Yang Xiaolin smiled. “Better to teach a man a skill than to give him gold. No matter how much food we give, we can’t buy their loyalty. We have to show them that following us is the road to survival.”

Jin Dadao was puzzled. “What do you mean?”

Yang Xiaolin still intended to establish his own base. Gaining the villagers’ support wasn’t just about sharing loot. The Red Army had won hearts because it made people believe in a better future.

So he needed to build his own system, from military doctrine to economic structure, to give people a sense of security. That would cost money. Yang Xiaolin patted Jin Dadao’s shoulder. “It means we need to pull off a bigger job!”

“What job?”

“We’re bandits—what else can we do? Robbery or kidnapping. It’s hard to rob in winter, so I’ll go kidnap a few people.”

Jin Dadao had done plenty of kidnappings in his day. He immediately listed off the wealthy locals: “Why not nab Zhao Zhanyuan? He’s loaded, and now that he’s with Zhang Zuolin, he’s rich as Croesus. Snatch him and Zhang will have to ransom him—serves him right! There’s also Old Master Liu in Fengtian City, another fat pig—could bleed him for tens of thousands of taels…”

He went on and on, but Yang Xiaolin wasn’t interested in any of them. “Enough, Jin. Those are all Chinese. I’m Yang the Ghost—if I’m kidnapping, I’m going for foreigners! I want to take a few brothers to Beijing. The Legation Quarter in the eastern suburbs is crawling with foreigners, all of them high-status. Kidnap a few, and there’ll be no end of people willing to pay ransom.”

Jin Dadao and Kong Luodi were stunned. Kidnap foreigners in Beijing? Even Jin Dadao, veteran kidnapper though he was, had never thought of such a thing!

Yang Xiaolin continued, “Do the math—kill a Russian soldier and the court pays two thousand taels. If we nab a few foreign diplomats, I figure each one is worth at least tens of thousands! If we’re lucky enough to catch an ambassador—ha, we’ll be rich!”

Once Jin Dadao shook off his shock, he was thoroughly excited by this idea. “Chief, let me go with you! I’m a pro at this!”

Yang Xiaolin said, “No, you stay and look after things for me here. I’ll be back after the New Year. While I’m gone, you must make sure the brothers train well.”

Jin Dadao was disappointed. Kidnapping foreigners in Beijing, under the emperor’s nose—regardless of success, such an act would make one’s name echo across the land! Yang Xiaolin’s exclusion left him disgruntled.

Yang Xiaolin patted his shoulder. “Jin, someone has to mind the house. If both of us leave, Gu Tianming and Staff Officer Kong can’t keep the men in line. With you here, I’ll be at ease.”

That flattering remark soothed Jin Dadao somewhat. “Fine. When do you leave?”

Yang Xiaolin considered. “Right away. After I’m gone, you head to Fengtian and check on Xianhe.”

Yang Xiaolin wanted to bring Liu Xianhe back. The anti-encirclement campaign was over, Gulu Mountain still stood, he was alive, and they’d gained a little. No talk of victory, but at least they hadn’t lost, and they had a few months to rest.

He hoped Dr. Hu could keep Liu Xianhe alive until he returned, and perhaps a Japanese doctor could cure him.

Jin Dadao nodded. “Don’t worry, I’ll handle it. But this trip is dangerous. Beijing is no backwater—every sort of big shot is there. We don’t know anyone, so be careful.”

Yang Xiaolin smiled. “I know. Pick a few brothers with Central Plains accents—thirty men, no more.”

Kong Luodi spoke up, “Chief, Jin’s men are experienced at this and are all trustworthy. We should take a few of them along.”

Yang Xiaolin agreed. “Alright, pick some for me.”

Jin Dadao thought for a moment. His best man was Biaozi, but Biaozi was still recovering. He needed another gutsy fellow. His eyes lit up. “I’ll go call Biaozi and Ergantzi!”

Yang Xiaolin was a man of action. Ergantzi had no time to prepare—he’d been planning to retrieve his hidden money and find that Russian girl for a peaceful life together. When he heard Yang Xiaolin was taking him to Beijing, he was utterly unwilling, but when pressed for a reason, he couldn’t give one. In the end, longing for Domlikshava in his heart, he reluctantly set out with Yang Xiaolin.

They traveled to Beijing by land. Ergantzi didn’t know that Domlikshava was already on a steamer to Tianjin. Their destination was the same—Beijing, the Legation Quarter.