「For the next two days.」
Every day at noon, Yang Jing went to the butcher shop in the West Market to buy two pounds of horse meat.
Before cooking the meat, he would first practice cutting it with his dagger.
His skill with the blade improved significantly, though he often mangled the meat. Still, it was all going into his stomach anyway.
In the afternoons, Yang Jing would also leave an hour early.
His Fourth Senior Brother, Liu Maolin, came to ask why, but Yang Jing simply said he had family matters to attend to.
....
「In a courtyard at the edge of Hu Village, Wazi Town.」
The December night wind whipped flakes of snow against the paper-paned windows, yet not a hint of the chill seeped through.
This courtyard belonged to an abandoned villa of the Ning Family. Though not extravagant, it was much more sturdily built than an ordinary farmer's home. The window paper was thick, a small stove burned in the corner, and a pot of wine warming on top of it steamed gently.
In the main room, five men sat around a square table. They were all dressed in thick, short jackets with tightly bound cuffs.
The leader, a man with a fleshy, brutish face and beady, triangular eyes, was none other than Feng Lei, the infamous thug known for miles around.
He was stuffing a piece of braised beef into his mouth, his cheeks bulging. With a bob of his Adam's apple, he swallowed it down, then grabbed his wine bowl and took a huge gulp, the liquor dribbling down from the corner of his mouth.
Setting down the bowl, Feng Lei glanced over the meat dishes on the table, a smug look on his face. 'In times like these,' he thought, 'it's only thanks to my cousin that I'm living so well off the Ning Family.'
"Boss, I think the Yang Family is caving. Once Master Ning returns, they'll probably be ready to sell the land. Are we still going to throw filth on their door tomorrow?" a gaunt young man asked.
"Keep at it!" Feng Lei snorted. "I heard they still want Master Ning to give them more money. We'll scare the shit out of them. Let's see if anyone from the Yang Family dares to mention more money then!"
A man with short eyebrows sitting down the table sucked his teeth, picked up a piece of rabbit meat, and stuffed it into his mouth. "Why don't we just take a few guys and smash their plow? Come next spring, they'll starve to death!"
"Idiot!" Feng Lei glared and cursed. "My cousin just sent word. Master Ning is all about appearances; we can't do anything overtly violent. But behind the scenes..."
He sneered, his triangular eyes narrowing. "We need to make them understand. If they don't listen to the Ning Family, if they don't listen to me, Feng Lei, things won't end well for them!"
A skinny, monkey-like man quickly chimed in, "Boss is right! The madam is the apple of Master Ning's eye right now. If we handle this perfectly, not only will it reflect well on her, but your own standing with Master Ning will improve, right?"
Feng Lei grunted, his expression softening considerably. He raised his wine bowl and drained it. "You've got a silver tongue, kid. Tomorrow, go pour some water on their woodpile. In the dead of winter, let's see what they use to heat their kang."
Setting down his bowl, Feng Lei continued, "Then go wait by the well at the entrance to Yang Family Village. When someone from Old Yang's family comes to fetch water, 'accidentally' knock their buckets over."
Feng Lei put heavy emphasis on the word "accidentally," his voice pausing slightly as he tapped his knuckles on the table. "Wear them down, bit by bit. Let's see how long they can last. By the time Master Ning returns, the Yang Family will be so worn down they'll have no spirit left. They'll hand over the land without a peep. If we do this flawlessly, my cousin will have something to boast about to Master Ning."
Feng Lei lifted his chin high, glancing at his underlings. "If my cousin has face with Master Ning, then I have face with Master Ning! And if I have face with Master Ning, then you all get to live better, to eat meat and drink wine in times like these!"
"Yes, Boss!"
"Yes!"
His cronies all hurriedly chimed in their agreement.
The charcoal in the brazier CRACKLED, showering sparks that lit up the five men's faces.
They ate their meal and drank their liquor, completely oblivious to the famine and cold outside.
In the past, while they might have received some food and benefits from the Ning Family, they never had the chance to eat such a lavish meal.
Today, with such a rare and sumptuous feast before them, all five men ate and drank to their hearts' content.
"Brothers, drink up! No one goes home sober tonight!" Feng Lei raised his bowl and shouted, his voice booming with bravado.
....
「Fenglou Village. In the woods beside the dirt road outside the village.」
Yang Jing had been lying in wait for four days.
Pale moonlight filtered through the bare branches, illuminating the white frost on his temples. The cold had long since seeped into his skin.
Late in the night, the sound of staggering footsteps suddenly came from a distance.
Yang Jing quickly looked in the direction of the sound, his pupils constricting. 'It's Feng Lei!'
Over the past few days of his stakeout, Yang Jing had discovered that Feng Lei drank almost every day, but rarely to the point of being completely drunk.
But today, Feng Lei was clearly much more intoxicated than before. His cotton-padded jacket was open, and he hummed a tuneless little song as he walked.
His steps were unsteady, as if he were walking on cotton. He swayed every few feet, even bumping into a tree trunk on the side of the road. But he just chuckled twice and continued staggering home.
Yang Jing's heart leaped, and a sharp glint flashed in his eyes. 'This is my chance.'
After Feng Lei swayed past, he followed silently behind, like a shadow melting into the night.
He watched as Feng Lei wobbled to the third courtyard from the village entrance. After fumbling for a long time, Feng Lei finally found the latch, stumbled inside, and then came a CLICK—the sound of the door being bolted from within.
Without hesitation, Yang Jing hurried to the side of the courtyard wall. The earthen wall wasn't very high. He took a deep breath, used a branch of the old locust tree by the wall, and nimbly vaulted over. He landed with only a faint, muffled thud.
The courtyard was silent. Only the main house showed a dim, yellow light, likely from Feng Lei having just entered.
Yang Jing crept along the base of the wall to the window. He heard the sounds of slippers shuffling and someone collapsing onto a bed, followed by heavy snores so loud they made the window paper tremble slightly.
Yang Jing waited patiently for about the time it takes an incense stick to burn. The snores grew deeper and heavier. The man was clearly fast asleep.
Taking a deep breath, Yang Jing went to the door and gave it a gentle push. The bolt hadn't caught. The door was only pulled shut.
He held his breath and pushed his way inside. The room was filled with the heavy stench of wine.
In the moonlight filtering through the window, he could see Feng Lei sprawled on the bed, drool trickling from the corner of his mouth.
Yang Jing crept step by step to the bedside. The dagger slid from his sleeve into his palm, its chill spreading through his fingertips.
His gaze was cold and sharp, as if he had practiced this a thousand times. Without a flicker of hesitation, he slammed his left hand down on Feng Lei's shoulder while his right hand, gripping the dagger, sliced across the man's throat as fast as lightning.
"GURGLE..."
A muffled, gurgling sound escaped Feng Lei's throat. His body convulsed once, then fell still. Warm blood spattered onto the back of Yang Jing's hand, carrying the metallic stench of rust.
With no hesitation, Yang Jing ruthlessly plunged the dagger into Feng Lei's windpipe. Even though Feng Lei already seemed dead, Yang Jing, not wanting to take any chances, struck again to make sure.
He pulled out the dagger, wiped it clean on the nearby bedding, and glanced at Feng Lei's completely lifeless body on the bed. Yang Jing's lips tightened into a thin line.
Then, he quickly searched Feng Lei's body, pulling a bulging, heavy money pouch from inside the corpse's robes.
He didn't have time to inspect it. He just tested its weight before stuffing it inside his own clothes. Then he immediately turned, slipped out of the room as silently as he had entered, vaulted the courtyard wall, and vanished into the thick darkness of the night.