The sky was pitch black.
On the way back, the seven or eight men traveling with him hid their swords, spears, and clubs under their garments, anxiously looking around, deeply fearing to encounter the mountain bandits again on the road.
Li Xian led the way, and the remaining ten or so miles passed without incident.
Reaching an open area outside the village, Li Xian said, "Dig a pit here and bury the weapons."
"Sir, why not bury these weapons with those bandit corpses?"
A villager asked.
"That place is too far. Although these weapons are buried in the ground, they are not completely useless." Li Xian said flatly, "If our deeds are exposed in the future, we need to have swords and guns to grab and resist at any time."
"Ah!"
The crowd was filled with dread.
Now that their blood had cooled, they thought about fighting with the bandits and couldn't remain calm.
Li Xian said, "Life is your own."
