Chapter 15: A Beauty Trap? Not as Tempting as Braised Pork Knuckle

The night was as thick as ink, intensifying the scent of blood permeating the manor. A gust of wind swept through, swirling several ledger pages soaked in blood into the air.

Fan Tong returned to the makeshift tent. Bao Nianfeng and his men were excitedly wiping their weapons, their faces flushed with the adrenaline of slaughter, still savoring the carnage they had just unleashed.

"Shut your mouths, all of you!" Fan Tong barked. The tent fell into an instant, deathly silence.

He walked to the corner, plunged his still-dripping bone-cleaver deep into the ground, and sat cross-legged. As he looked at his hands, stained with blood and brains, a profound sense of alienation washed over him.

Once upon a time, these hands were used to wield a ladle, chop vegetables, and pursue the perfection of heat. Now, they only knew how to split skulls with maximum efficiency. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the tremors from his soul and the violent impulses born of his ogre bloodline.

He knew the merchants would not sit idly by.

Tonight would be the toughest course in this "gourmet journey."

"Commander Fan! It’s bad!"

A confidant of the Qiao family scrambled into the tent, his face pale with terror, his voice trembling.

"Cao Xun and those old dogs have gone mad! They’ve mobilized all their servants and the city’s thugs—over three thousand of them—and have seized all four gates! Datong Prefecture... it's under their control now!"

The air in the tent solidified.

Zhang He, the garrison commander, turned deathly pale. He stood up abruptly: "Those treacherous dogs! Do they intend to rebel?!"

"It's not that they intend to; they are already rebelling." Fan Tong opened his eyes, his gaze terrifyingly calm.

He rose, his 250-pound frame making not a sound. He walked up to the messenger and patted his shoulder, his tone surprisingly gentle: "Don't be afraid. Go back and tell your master that his people need do nothing but enjoy the show. By the hour of the Rat, when three red lanterns are hung on the South Gate tower, find a way to crack the gate open for me."

"Open the gate?" The messenger was stunned. "But the gates are all occupied by their men..."

"He will find a way." Fan Tong grinned. "Tell him that once it is done, the Cao family's granaries belong to him."

The messenger's eyes lit up instantly. He nodded vigorously and dashed away.

"Commander Fan, this..." Zhang He looked worried. "The enemy outnumbers us within the city. Charging in with our small force is like throwing an egg against a rock!"

"A rock?" Fan Tong hoisted his massive bone-cleaver onto his shoulder and turned to look at Zhang He. "Commander Zhang, have you ever seen an egg that seeks out the rock on its own?"

Without further explanation, he issued his command: "Assemble the troops! Target: Datong Prefecture!"

On the main road to Datong, the night was as stagnant as dead water.

Fan Tong and his twenty heavy-armored mess soldiers led the way, with five hundred garrison troops following closely behind. The sound of hooves was muffled by the thick dust, leaving only a dull, rhythmic thudding.

As the column reached a narrow pass, Fan Tong suddenly pulled on his reins.

"Halt!"

A faint, sweet scent—distinct from the smell of blood—drifted through the air.

"Ambush! Defend!" Before Fan Tong could finish his sentence...

"Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!"

Sharp, piercing sounds tore through the night sky without warning! Countless crossbow bolts, dripping with green venom, erupted from the mountain walls on both sides, descending like the scythe of death upon the entire column.

"Raise the pots!" Bao Nianfeng roared. The mess soldiers skillfully raised the large field-kitchen pots they wore on their backs like shields.

"Clang! Clang! Clang!"

The dense volley of bolts struck the iron pots and their terrifying black armor, showering sparks, but failing to cause any harm. The garrison troops behind them, however, were not so fortunate; they fell in droves, their screams echoing one after another.

"It’s the 'Blood Swallows'! Famous assassins of the Shanxi region!" Zhang He shouted in horror. "Their arrows are coated in lethal poison—one scratch and you're dead!"

In the darkness, dozens of shadows glided down from the cliffs like ghosts. Wielding poisoned short blades, they moved with the agility of wildcats, lunging directly at Fan Tong!

"Excellent!"

Fan Tong did not retreat but surged forward, letting out a roar as he leapt from his horse. His massive body slammed into the cluster of assassins like a cannonball!

"Fearless Aura, activate!"

An invisible ripple expanded from his center. A fanatical, blood-red glow erupted in the eyes of every mess soldier, and their wounds began to heal at an accelerated pace!

An assassin moved with uncanny grace, ghosting behind Fan Tong to strike at his heart.

Fan Tong didn't even turn around; he threw a backhand elbow.

"Crunch!"

The assassin's chest cavity was pulverized by the unreasonable force of the blow, and he went flying backward, vomiting blood.

Another assassin tried to throw poisoned caltrops, but Bao Nianfeng had already charged him, swinging a giant axe. One strike flattened the man and his hidden weapons into a pulp!

This was not a battle; it was a slaughter!

The agility and poisons the Blood Swallow assassins prided themselves on became a joke in the face of these monsters—invulnerable to blades, gifted with superhuman strength, and capable of healing on the spot.

Their short blades left no mark on the black armor. Yet, one brush from the enemy's heavy axes or spiked clubs resulted in shattered bones and severed tendons.

In less than the time it takes to burn a stick of incense, the dozen or so "Blood Swallows," whose names had struck terror across the Shanxi road, were reduced to a pile of mangled limbs.

Fan Tong grabbed the last survivor. The assassin was already limp with terror, his trousers soaked in filth.

"Who sent you?"

"It... it was... the Cao... the Cao family..."

Fan Tong wasted no more words. With a flick of his blade, he decapitated the man and tossed the head aside. He vaulted onto his horse and looked toward the distant gate tower of Datong, where three red lanterns had quietly been lit. His lips curled into a grim, savage arc.

"Time to eat!"

...

Datong Prefecture, the Cao family mansion.

Inside the banquet hall, lanterns glowed brightly, and music and dance filled the air. Cao Xun, Wang Chengyu, and other great Shanxi merchants were drinking in high spirits, drunk on their own success.

"Hahaha, that fat man surnamed Fan is probably a ghost under the blades of the Blood Swallows by now!" Wang Chengyu laughed triumphantly.

"Once he is dead and they are leaderless, those garrison troops outside will be nothing but a pile of loose sand, not worth fearing!" Cao Xun stroked his beard, his eyes shining with the certainty of victory. "When dawn breaks, we will report to the imperial court that Datong was raided by Yuan spies and that we defended the city at the cost of our own lives. This massive merit will be..."

"BOOM!"

Before he could finish, the main gate of the mansion was smashed inward in the most brutal fashion imaginable!

Amidst flying wood splinters, twenty black-armored demonic figures strode in, flanking a fat man carrying a giant bone-cleaver.

Fan Tong’s gaze swept over the panicked merchants and shivering dancers, finally settling on Cao Xun’s face, which was twisted in absolute shock.

"Boss Cao, I heard you sent someone to invite me for tea?" Fan Tong’s voice was not loud, but it carried clearly through the hall. "My apologies, I’m late."

"You... how could you possibly..." Cao Xun pointed at Fan Tong, his lips trembling, unable to form a coherent sentence.

"Kill! Kill them!" he shrieked hysterically.

Hundreds of armed servants and guards poured out from the sides of the hall, surrounding Fan Tong and his men.

"Hmph." Fan Tong gave a disdainful sneer.

Behind him, Bao Nianfeng and the others could no longer restrain themselves. They had just finished a battle and their physical exertion had been immense; they were so hungry their eyes were glowing green.

Just then, a gorgeously dressed woman—likely one of Cao Xun’s wives or concubines—led a dozen stunning maids forward, carrying fine wine and delicacies, swaying her hips like a water snake.

"Gentlemen, all this killing is so bad for the atmosphere," the woman said in a syrupy, seductive voice, charming to the bone. "Why not have a drink first? Let these little sisters serve you, and we can all have a wonderful time..."

As she spoke, she pushed the most beautiful maid toward the leader, Bao Nianfeng. The maid batted her eyes, her breath sweet as orchids, preparing to collapse into Bao Nianfeng’s arms.

Zhang He and the other garrison soldiers who had followed them in stared, their eyes wide, their Adam's apples bobbing.

However, Bao Nianfeng didn't even look at the beauty. His gaze bypassed her flawless face and locked onto the table behind her... at the mountain of braised pork knuckles!

"Get lost! Don't stand in the way of my meal!"

Bao Nianfeng shoved the stunned beauty aside and lunged at the banquet like a starving bear. He grabbed a pork knuckle, opened his gaping maw, and tore into it, his mouth dripping with grease.

The other mess soldiers followed suit, pushing aside the beauties throwing themselves at them and charging the table of wine and meat, devouring everything in a whirlwind of gluttony.

As the food hit their stomachs, the wounds inflicted by the assassins at the pass began to heal at a visible rate. Their exhausted strength returned rapidly, and the ferocious aura radiating from them became even more intense than before!

This sight completely shattered the psychological defenses of Cao Xun and all his servants.

Fan Tong paid no mind to the embarrassing gluttons behind him. He shouldered his blade and walked step by step toward Cao Xun, who sat in the main seat, his face ashen.

"Now, shall we discuss whose house we should start eating at for this 'extinction feast'?"