Too many female prisoners, a special forces soldier transmigrates and marries wildly.

Mornings come exceptionally early in Kaoshantun.

Lin Feng opened his eyes; the hard earthen bed made his back ache. Su Wanyue was curled up beside him, sleeping soundly, but her brows were slightly furrowed, and she seemed restless even in her dreams.

He quietly got up, wandered around the village, picked up a bundle of firewood, and subtly observed the small mountain village.

At the east end of the village, there was a somewhat decent brick and tile house with a wooden sign that read "Chen Ji" hanging at the door; it was a general store.

As Lin Feng passed by, he saw a plump shopkeeper wearing a silk mandarin jacket and sporting a mustache, shouting to a hunched-over old farmer:

"...Just a few copper coins? Old Li, you've been owing rent for over half a year! Master Chen said if you don't pay it off by the end of the month, he'll take your two acres of barren land in the east as payment!"

"Manager Wang, please have mercy..." the old farmer pleaded desperately, "This year's harvest is bad, I really can't afford it... Please talk to Master Chen and ask for a little more time..."

The fat shopkeeper, spitting as he spoke, yelled, "Get out! If you don't see any money by the end of the month, you'll be sorry!"

The old farmer was pushed out the door, staggered a few steps, squatted against the wall, and sobbed with his head in his hands.

Lin Feng paused for a moment, then continued walking. A heavy feeling settled in his heart. At the border, life and death were a matter of open conflict. Here, hardship was like being slowly cut by a dull knife.

After breakfast, Lin Feng carried a machete and rope, disguised himself as a woodcutter going into the mountains to chop wood, and left the village.

He wanted to investigate the details of Liu's warehouse again and also buy some necessary items.

As they approached the town entrance, cries and angry shouts suddenly came from the fork in the road ahead.

Lin Feng dodged behind a tree and saw seven or eight hooligans with their hats askew and their chests open, pushing and shoving around a donkey cart.

An elderly man with gray hair sat on the donkey cart, tightly guarding the several baskets of mountain produce on it.

"You've dirtied my robe," said Young Master Zhao, a young man in a silk robe and fanning himself with a folding fan. His eyes darted to the mountain goods on the donkey cart. "Then use these as payment!"

"You mustn't!" The old man rushed forward and hugged the basket. "I'm going to sell this to buy medicine for my wife..."

"Get out of the way!" Young Master Zhao kicked the old man aside and waved to the thugs, "Move away!"

The thugs swarmed forward. The old man cried out and tried to stop them, but was pushed to the ground, his forehead bleeding from the impact.

More and more people gathered to watch, but no one dared to step forward.

Lin Feng watched, then stepped out from behind the tree and said in a deep voice, "Stop."

Young Master Zhao glanced at Lin Feng sideways and sneered, "Where did this penniless wretch come from? Trying to meddle in other people's business?"

Lin Feng walked to the donkey cart, blocking Old Man Wang's way, and looked at Young Master Zhao: "His donkey got spooked and dirtied your clothes, so he should pay for it. But your robe is worth at most five taels. Asking for twenty taels is extortion."

"Extortion?" Young Master Zhao laughed as if he'd heard the biggest joke in the world. "In this Qing Shi Town, whatever amount I say I'll pay, that's what I pay! Who do you think you are, daring to point fingers like that?"

Lin Feng calmly said, "I just saw injustice and did something wrong. I'll pay the five taels of silver for him. Put the things down, and you can take the person with you."

As he spoke, he took out a piece of silver, weighing about five taels, from his pocket and threw it over.

Young Master Zhao caught the silver, weighed it in his hand, and a sinister smile appeared on his face: "Five taels? Too late now! This old bastard dared to offend me, and this ignorant woodcutter even dared to talk back! Today, I want the goods, and I'll teach the man a lesson!"

He waved his hand: "Beat them! Take care of this arrogant woodcutter too!"

Seven or eight hooligans rushed forward, howling. Lin Feng's eyes turned cold. He pushed Old Man Wang back and went to meet them himself.

He weaved through the crowd, his punches as swift as the wind and his kicks as fast as lightning, each strike landing precisely on joints and ribs. In the blink of an eye, seven or eight thugs were lying on the ground, clutching their arms and legs, howling in pain.

Young Master Zhao was stunned, the silver in his hand clattering to the ground. He pointed at Lin Feng, his voice trembling, "You...you dare to lay a hand on me? Do you know who I am? My father is Zhao..."

Before he could finish speaking, Lin Feng was already in front of him, grabbed his collar, and lifted him off the ground.

"I don't care who you are." Lin Feng stared into his terrified eyes and said, word by word, "I only know that those who bully others because of their power deserve to be beaten. Those who extort money deserve to be beaten. Those who are rich but heartless deserve to be beaten even more."

"Slap! Slap!" Two crisp slaps made Young Master Zhao see stars, and his cheeks swelled up instantly.

Young Master Zhao was stunned by the beating, blood seeping from the corner of his mouth, and unable to speak.

Lin Feng threw him to the ground, stepped on one of his hands, and applied slight pressure.

"Ah—!" Young Master Zhao let out a bloodcurdling scream like a pig being slaughtered.

"Remember," Lin Feng leaned down, his voice as cold as iron, "If you ever dare to bully the innocent again, I'll beat you every time I see you. Get out!"

He kicked Young Master Zhao several feet away.

Young Master Zhao scrambled to his feet, ignoring his men, and fled in a disheveled state, covering his face. Only after running a considerable distance did he dare to turn back and shout, "You...you just wait!"

Lin Feng didn't even glance at him, turning around to help Old Man Wang up: "Old man, are you alright?"

He picked up the broken piece of silver from the ground and stuffed it back into his hand. "Keep the silver safe and go get your wife her medicine. Be more careful next time."

"This...how can this be..." Old Man Wang declined.

"Take it." Lin Feng said firmly, helping him right the donkey cart and repacking the scattered mountain goods. "Let's go."

Old Wang thanked him profusely and drove off in his donkey cart. The crowd silently parted to make way for him, their gazes towards Lin Feng a mixture of admiration, worry, and complex emotions.

Lin Feng walked into the town and bought some daily necessities. Finally, he went to the blacksmith's shop and picked out a decent wood-chopping knife—his old one was too worn out.

When I left town carrying my large and small bags, the sun was already setting.

Not far from the town entrance, a dozen or so people suddenly appeared at the intersection ahead, wielding sticks and machetes, blocking the way.

The leader was a gaunt old man with a goatee, wearing a long silk robe, and a sinister look in his eyes. Beside him, Young Master Zhao, with half his face swollen, was pointing at Lin Feng and shouting:

"Father! It was him! This woodcutter hit me!"

Master Zhao sized up Lin Feng and sneered, "Good lad, daring to mess with someone from the Zhao family in Qing Shi Town, you're really asking for trouble! Get him! Break his legs!"

A dozen servants swarmed forward. Lin Feng's eyes turned cold. He put down what he was holding and drew his newly bought wood-chopping knife. This time, he held nothing back.

The blade flashed, and blood splattered.

The machete seemed to come alive in his hands; each swing precisely struck a non-vital spot, yet was enough to incapacitate the victim. Severed hands, severed feet, and screams of agony filled the air.

In a short while, more than a dozen servants were lying on the ground. Lin Feng, carrying a blood-dripping woodcutter's knife, walked step by step toward Master Zhao and his son.

Master Zhao was terrified, his face turning ashen, and he retreated repeatedly, stammering, "You...you stay away! I...I'll call the authorities!"