Robbery, Resolution

Tran Mac weighed the broken silver pieces; he estimated it wasn't even half a liang, converting to about three hundred wen.

Don't be fooled by those TV dramas where heroes出手 (chūshǒu - strike/act) with tens or hundreds of liang.

In the Da Song Dynasty, one liang of silver could be equivalent to a thousand wen.

In peaceful times, it could buy over two hundred jin of rice.

Eating frugally, it could supply one person for a year and a half.

Silver ingots' weights were also standardized at one liang, five liang, and ten liang.

If you took a ten-liang silver ingot to eat, an ordinary restaurant or tavern wouldn't even have change for it.

"Hiss..."

Tran Mac sucked in a cold breath. Just weighing it had pulled at the wound on his back, which burned with pain. He reached back to touch it; his hand came away sticky, covered in blood.

Not only that, the bag containing his corn was also torn, and the corn scattered on the ground.

Tran Mac's face darkened, a hint of ruthlessness appearing in his eyes.

"There will be such a day..."

...

He could only go to the grain shop again to buy some more corn, and also went to the pharmacy to get some hemostatic medicine.

Then, without waiting long, he headed out of the city.

As he was about to leave the city, Tran Mac couldn't help but glance at two people squatting in a corner inside the city. When he had entered the city just now, he had seen these two squatting here. Now, as he was leaving, he still saw them squatting here.

The weather was so cold; weren't they afraid of freezing?

He didn't know that just as his front foot left, a tall, thin man walked up to these two, whispered a few sentences to them, and then the three of them followed in the direction Tran Mac had left.

A hawker who had set up a stall inside the city gate saw this scene and discussed it with the hawker next to him.

"Haha, those scoundrels have spotted their target again. That person is in trouble."

"Isn't that right? That person looks injured, and he's carrying so many things in large and small bags. A fat sheep for sure."

"That person is leaving the city at this hour; he's probably not a city resident. Even if he's robbed, the government officials won't care."

"Come on, haven't you heard? If it weren't for the cold weather, the rebels would have already attacked Thanh Chau. But wait until early spring next year, I'm afraid they'll still attack. Now I hear about murder cases outside the city, the yamen doesn't even want to bother much..."

...

"Someone is following!"

After becoming a martial artist, Tran Mac's physical senses were much sharper than before.

Outside the city, it was deathly silent, a stretch of white. Only the sound of the wind and snow by his ears, his feet stepping in the snowdrifts, making "crunch crunch..." sounds.

Tran Mac glanced behind him out of the corner of his eye and quickened his pace.

"Boss, that kid seems to have discovered us."

"Quick, chase him! Don't let him run!"

Tran Mac left the main road, turned into a small path, and entered a forest.

This place was already far from the county town.

Tran Mac unhurriedly put down the grain, removed the wood-chopping knife from his waist, attached the handle, and slammed it onto the ground for stability.

Actually, when Tran Mac bought so much grain, he had also worried about being targeted.

But his home wasn't in the county town; he couldn't possibly come to the county town every time he wanted to buy something. He couldn't even afford the city entrance fee, so he had to buy a lot at once.

He, on the other hand, wasn't worried about someone stronger than him targeting him.

After all, people stronger than him wouldn't look twice at this bit of grain, and he hadn't made any enemies in the city.

Seeing Tran Mac stop and not leave, the three men slowly approached.

"You kid really know how to find a good place for yourself." The leading Scoundrel had rich fighting experience. He didn't rush to get close to Tran Mac, took out a dagger from his waistband, stopped more than a zhang away, and sneered, "In this place, even if you shout your throat out, no one will hear."

The two accomplices beside him also stopped one after another. They seemed to be doing this kind of thing for the first time, spreading out to surround Tran Mac in a triangular formation.

"Kid, hand over everything on you. We only want money, not your life. Be honest, and you can suffer less..."

The Scoundrel hadn't finished speaking.

Tran Mac, a man of few cruel words, turned around, took two steps forward, and with a single slash, chopped towards the Scoundrel.

"Not good..."

The Scoundrel hurriedly dodged, but then a horrifying scene occurred. The wood-chopping knife was clearly still half a zhang away from him, but the Scoundrel felt an invisible force land on his body.

He didn't even have time to speak before his whole body was split in two, fresh blood spraying out.

"Ah ah..."

The two accomplices were terrified.

They usually made a living by robbery. Occasionally, they encountered tough ones, but once they showed their knives, the other party would be scared. But when had they ever encountered such a ruthless person like Tran Mac, who would chop someone in two right from the start? Their souls were about to be scared out of them.

"Kill!"

Tran Mac narrowed his eyes, without any hesitation, and chased after the nearest person.

Feeling the distance was about right, he gave a slash towards the opponent's back.

This slash went askew, only shaving off half a shoulder.

However, the result was no different; he still died under his blade.

The fastest running tall, thin man instinctively glanced back. Seeing the tragic state of his companion, his soul was completely scared away.

The ground was all covered in snowdrifts; if one didn't lift their feet high, it was very easy to trip.

Just as the tall, thin man turned his head, his foot was tripped by something, and he fell heavily to the ground.

However, even if he hadn't fallen, he still couldn't have escaped.

Tran Mac walked over step by step.

He crawled backward: "Don't... Don't kill me! I... was wrong! Spare my life..."

"Don't be foolish."

Tran Mac originally had a fire憋 (biē - pent up/suppressed) in his belly, with no place to vent. They just had to rush onto his spearhead.

"Don't want to..."

Tran Mac's knife fell, and the voice stopped abruptly.

This time killing people, Tran Mac's eyes were extremely calm, almost like killing a chicken.

He even felt it was easier than killing a chicken.

He squatted down, used the tall, thin man's clothes to wipe the blood off his blade, then searched the opponent's body and found a patched inner pocket.

Opening the inner pocket, inside was a pass token and twenty-one wen.

The pass token showed the man was called Dich Dung, from Dich Family Village.

Next, he searched the other two corpses and found two pass tokens, a total of seventy wen, a piece of broken silver the size of a pinky fingernail cover, a rock-hard baked bun, and a dagger.

"All poor ghosts."

Tran Mac tore up all the pass tokens, tucked the dagger into his waistband, put everything else into his bosom, dug a pit, disfigured their faces, threw them into the pit, and covered them with mud and snow.

After finishing, Tran Mac then shouldered his own grain, set off again, and quickly returned home.

...

In winter, the days darkened particularly fast.

When he returned to the village, the families hadn't slept yet. Some people saw Tran Mac carrying large and small bags of grain, their faces filled with envy.

However, wary of Tran Mac, no one dared to have ill intentions.

Tran family, windows tightly shut.

Dong dong dong!

Tran Mac knocked on the room door.

"Who is it?" Han An Nuong asked vigilantly, picking up the wood-chopping knife from the side and standing at the door.

"Sister-in-law, it's me."

Hearing Tran Mac's voice, Han An Nuong finally sighed in relief, hurriedly went to open the door, let Tran Mac in, closed the door, and re-bolted it from the inside.

"Uncle, you're back? Why so late? I..." Han An Nuong chattered on, helping Tran Mac take off the grain he carried. Just as she took a bag of coarse salt, it fell to the ground with a thud. Luckily, the mouth of the bag was tied tight.

"Uncle, the wound on your back..." Han An Nuong covered her small mouth, pointed at Tran Mac's back, her eye sockets turning red...