Chapter 85: Strategies Before the Battle

Old Zhu hurried into the council hall, where Yang Cheng sat at the head of the hall, with several martial artists seated on either side. Yang Cheng beckoned him forward, indicating the seat beside him. Old Zhu made himself comfortable, and without waiting for Yang Cheng to inquire, he began to recount the entire matter in detail.

After listening, Yang Cheng frowned slightly. No matter how low-key one tried to be, some things simply could not be avoided. The people in the hall were seething with anger. Since joining Yang’s family, they had only handled minor tasks and had yet to achieve anything noteworthy. Now, someone dared to challenge them on their own turf. Coincidentally, their cultivation had improved lately, and they were eager to test their skills.

Wei Xu spoke urgently, “Young Master, if it’s a fight you want, just say the word. It’s not as if we haven’t done this before.”

Except for Murong Tie, all the martial artists present had participated in the night raid on the Little Blade Gang. Now, given another chance, Wei Xu was eager to prove himself. “Young Master, small gangs like these exist in every city, all bullies at heart. As long as we beat them into submission, they won’t dare come again.”

Yang Cheng gestured for silence. “This isn’t as simple as last time. The Little Blade Gang was small and easily dealt with, with little consequence. The Bluefire Gang must be formidable to control dozens of streets. We don’t know enough yet; we can’t act rashly.”

He turned to see the chubby Zhu beside him looking unconcerned and asked, “Old Zhu, you don’t seem particularly worried. Do you have a plan?”

Old Zhu spread his hands. “What plan could I possibly have? Who says I’m not anxious? If I weren’t, would I have rushed here first thing?” He paused and then chuckled. “But when I came in and saw Elder Liu, I thought, well, that’s extraordinary. With him here, I’m suddenly not worried. Brother, if Elder Liu steps in, it won’t matter what gang it is.”

Yang Cheng thought to himself, Liu Changqing isn’t much older than you, yet you shamelessly call him ‘Elder.’ He sighed. “Old Zhu, don’t count on him. He’s just our guest, not someone I can order around. Tell me, how are such matters usually resolved?”

Old Zhu’s sly smile faded into a grimace. “People in this line always prey on the weak and fear the strong. They must have scouted us, learned about our two families, before coming to demand protection money. If they thought we were strong, they wouldn’t dare bother us. So, since they’ve come, they must be confident.”

“For situations like this, you either submit and pay up to keep your business safe, or you refuse and settle it with a fight. The authorities don’t allow brawls in the city, so these things are usually settled outside the city, winner takes all. If you lose, not only do you pay monthly, but you also owe them a hefty sum for ‘medical expenses.’”

Yang Cheng asked, “From what you know, how strong are they? How many people?”

“I’ve already asked around before coming. The Bluefire Gang is new to our area, and few know much about them. Controlling such a large territory, they must have at least three hundred men. But don’t worry—such small gangs never have Golden Core cultivators. Those experts are rare, either famous lone cultivators who value their status or elders and patrons of major factions; they wouldn’t stoop to street business.”

“How many people can you gather?”

“You mean… to fight?”

Yang Cheng nodded. “Yes. We can’t just hand over all this profit without a fight. I won’t rest easy until we try.” Glancing at the martial artists, he saw them all eager for action. “Besides, my people are no worse than anyone else at the same level.” He had provided them with superior techniques to train with—if there were no results, he wouldn’t believe it.

Old Zhu considered, then gritted his teeth. “Alright, I won’t give in either. My own family can muster eleven people—one at Integration stage, ten at Foundation Establishment. Old Le has gone to Linhai City and took the guards, so they can’t help. I’ll see if I can find some old friends to help—maybe forty or fifty in total.”

Yang Cheng mused, “If I send out everyone, I should have one hundred and nine people: four at Integration stage, the rest at Foundation Establishment. We should be able to put up a fight.”

He was also inclined to use this as a chance to drill his men. He had realized that in this world, constant retreat was pointless—sooner or later, they would face a stronger foe, and he needed to adapt.

As for Liu Changqing—such a proud man would never serve as a hired hand. He didn’t count Lu Baichuan either, planning to keep him as a final trump card.

Once the two had made their plans, they sent someone to arrange a challenge with the Bluefire Gang: three mornings hence, a decisive battle outside the southern city. Old Zhu went to recruit extra help for better odds. Yang Cheng, meanwhile, sought more intelligence to know both himself and his enemy.

After Old Zhu departed, Yang Cheng dispatched Zhong Qiang and others to gather information at the affiliated taverns near the southern city and ordered Murong Tie to inform Li Tianjun, who was training in the west wing, to prepare for battle.

That evening, Yang Cheng and Li Tianjun listened to the intelligence reports in the council hall.

Gathering the information, they obtained a detailed understanding of the Bluefire Gang. It was a recently risen faction, led by a man named Song Qinghuo. In the past few months, they had driven away over a dozen smaller gangs and gathered nearly three hundred men, with eight Integration stage experts. Their strength was now on par with the former eight major gangs of the southern district, making them one of the city’s new top nine factions.

Li Tianjun pondered, “We’re outnumbered and lack top experts, but our guards are well-trained and of uniform cultivation. The enemy may have more experts, but their ranks are uneven—eighty or so at Foundation Establishment, and the remaining one or two hundred only at Qi Condensation. We’re fewer, and in a straight fight, cunning will be of little use.”

Yang Cheng nodded. “If the top fighters face off and we set aside eighty to take on their Foundation Establishment ranks, that leaves seventy on our side against two hundred Qi Condensation cultivators. In a brawl, the outcome is uncertain.”

Li Tianjun, experienced in countless sect wars and leading troops, said, “Young Master, in addition to training, I’ve had the guards practice battle formations. Group battles depend on coordination—unless the power gap is vast, individual prowess counts for little.”

“These street thugs are good at bullying and brawling, but I doubt they know anything of battle formations. We can have our guards form into a battle array to compensate for our fewer numbers. Zhong Qiang, Murong Tie, and the other nine, all skilled in the Lingbo footwork, are swift and hard to guard against. Let them form a special squad to strike from the enemy’s rear when the fight is at its fiercest. Even if they can’t deal a decisive blow, they’ll demoralize the enemy. As for Zhu’s reinforcements, let them fight on the flanks as they please—forcing them into our formation would only hinder coordination.”

Yang Cheng, though inexperienced, felt this was the best plan for now. He agreed at once: “Li Tianjun will command. Zhong Qiang, you’ll lead the strike squad. Everyone, prepare and drill these next two days—this battle must be won!”

“Yes, sir!”

“Rest assured, Young Master, we will give our all to defeat the Bluefire Gang,” the assembly declared as they rose.