The Buddha statue in the Grand Hall was made of hardwood, merely coated with a layer of gold paint on the surface. After years of exposure to smoke and fire, it had long since been baked so dry it couldn’t get any drier. Today, it was suddenly set alight by a rolling firebomb, and in the rush, how could it be easy to put out? To make matters worse, no one had a bucket or water pouch at hand, so they could only strip off their clothes and run out into the rain to fetch water. As a result, they were busy for nearly half an hour before, with the help of the alerted underlings who rushed over, they finally managed to extinguish the flames. Looking again at the gold-plated Buddha statue, it had already been blackened by smoke to the point it looked like a blind bear, with not a trace of solemnity left. Even the ceiling above had been scorched as black as the bottom of a pot, indescribably filthy. (Note 1)

All the leaders of the mountain stronghold present were exhausted like dogs. Forcing themselves to hold on until the underlings withdrew, they each squatted on the waterlogged, filthy ground, panting heavily. Once they’d caught their breath, they remembered the “culprit” of this fire, and turned their heads toward a certain someone who was also squatting on the ground, gasping for air, and started talking all at once: “Little Ben, how did you come back alone! Where are the Boss and Fourth Uncle? Why didn’t they come back with you?”

“Did you get the money exchanged? Did the supplier agree to honor the deal? They didn’t change their mind just because we brought more heads, did they?!”

“Was the journey smooth? Did you run into Zhao Yanshou’s henchmen? I told you long ago not to tag along. You’re no help at all, just make things messier!”

“……”

These days, calling someone fat was usually phrased as “prosperous” or “blessed-looking.” “Fat,” on the other hand, was grouped with “foolish,” and clearly carried a derogatory meaning. If someone’s name or nickname included the word “fat,” it usually implied discrimination. Yet the youth called Little Ben didn’t mind at all. He first looked around, found a relatively dry spot, and laid his shield down on it. Then he plopped down heavily, panting as he replied, “The Boss, the Boss and Fourth Uncle are both behind. They ran into some acquaintances, so they’ll be delayed on the road for two days. They told me, told me to come back first and let you uncles know we’re safe!”

“Acquaintances? Who, did they say their names?” The second-in-command, Brian Scott, was taken aback and instinctively placed his hand on his sword.

In these chaotic times, “meeting an old friend in a foreign land” was hardly a good omen. Besides, everything they’d done in recent months was out of the ordinary. If those “old friends” went to the Khitans to claim credit, disaster would befall Wagang Village.

“I—I didn’t remember. I think, I think one of them was surnamed Han, his face, his face was a bit dark, kind of like Fifth Uncle. He was, he was about as tall as my nose!” Little Ben gestured toward Frank Thompson, hesitantly replying.

Frank Thompson had always hated being called dark-skinned. He shot to his feet and shouted, “So what if he’s dark, dark like me—do you even know how to talk about people?!”

The youth was startled by his question, instinctively hunching his shoulders, not knowing how to respond. The second-in-command, Brian Scott, quickly stepped in to mediate: “Fifth Uncle, let it go. Don’t stoop to a child’s level! Let’s talk about the important matters first!”

“Important matters? You still expect him to handle them?!” The fifth-in-command, Frank Thompson, was in a foul mood today, frowning and roaring, “He was sent back to deliver a message! He can’t even say who the other party is, only remembers the surname Han! There are tons of Hans in the world—without a name, how are we supposed to know which one? The Boss must have forgotten he’s an idiot! Now that he’s back, I’m even less at ease!”

“I’m not an idiot! I—I just suffered, suffered a small head injury!” The youth Little Ben, though afraid of Frank Thompson, stubbornly refused to admit he was stupid. His face flushed red as he loudly argued, “Besides, besides, the Boss didn’t, didn’t tell me his name at the time. He just, just told me to call him Uncle Han. Oh, and he, he has a son, also surnamed Han. He’s also dark and sturdy. About as tall as me, and about my age!”

The fifth-in-command, Frank Thompson, grew even angrier at his backtalk. He raised his iron crutch, pointing it at the youth’s nose and roared, “The Boss didn’t tell you, but don’t you have a mouth under your nose? And his son—if his son isn’t surnamed Han, is he like you, looking human but not even knowing his own surname?!”

That was a bit too harsh. Tears immediately welled up in Little Ben’s already reddened eyes. But his mouth couldn’t keep up, and for a moment he couldn’t say a word in retort. He just unconsciously clenched his already open hands tighter and tighter.

Frank Thompson saw this and became even more furious, raising his iron crutch high. “What? You ungrateful little brat! Clenching your fists—what, you want to hit me? Come on, let’s see if I break your legs today!”

“Fifth Uncle, that’s enough!” Seeing Frank Thompson’s weapon about to come down, the second-in-command, Brian Scott, quickly stepped forward, blocking Little Ben. “You know what shape he was in after his injury! Now he can remember the surname Han and that the man was dark-skinned—that’s already impressive. Don’t ask too much of him!”

“Yeah, Fifth Uncle, stop picking on him! The Boss is definitely fine—otherwise, with his personality, how could he possibly let Little Ben come back alone to deliver the message?”

“Exactly! If you don’t trust Little Ben, don’t you trust the Boss?”