Chapter 259: The Young King Knows His Wrongs, Spare Me, General

Zhang Fengyi was both shocked and furious, demanding, "What do you mean by this?"

The Governor said with a worried expression: "There are too many enemy ships on the river. If we open the gates and let the rebel troops flood in, neither of us can bear that responsibility.

Besides, the enemy fleet is still there. If we leave the city now, we'll run straight into them and won't even make it across the river."

To be fair, the Governor's concerns had some merit—but the ones raiding the camp were her mother-in-law and her husband, leading only a thousand soldiers. How could she stay calm? Zhang Fengyi paced anxiously back and forth atop the city wall.

Then they saw the flames on Zijia Islet growing brighter, the great fire stretching for several li, illuminating nearly the entire rebel camp, even casting the outlines of the ships on the Li River into view. Zhang Fengyi watched and exclaimed with joy: "We've succeeded!"

A soldier on the wall cried out in surprise: "General, the rebel ships are retreating!"

Everyone strained their eyes toward the river. By the light of the great fire, they could indeed see the Nan'ao ships collapsing back in the direction of Zijia Islet.

They could even hear fragmented shouts coming from the vessels.

"Damn it, we've fallen for it!"

"…Quick, turn back to reinforce the main force!"

"Turn around! Turn around!"

Then, from Zijia Islet, the roar of guns and cannons erupted—clearly Qin Liangyu had engaged the rebels in battle.

Zhang Fengyi urged urgently: "Your Excellency, open the city gates at once!"

The Guangxi Governor said: "The enemy fleet has not yet withdrawn."

"The window of opportunity passes in an instant—how can we delay like this! Open the gates!" Zhang Fengyi turned fierce, drawing her blade from its sheath, murderous intent already flashing in her eyes.

The Guangxi Governor was startled, retreating a few steps as he said: "You dare draw a blade before this Governor? Are you trying to rebel?"

Zhang Fengyi glared at the Governor, then forcefully ordered the White Pole Troops to open the water gate. She then boarded a flatboat and left the city together with her men.

After the White Pole Troops had exited the city, the Governor immediately ordered the gates closed.

A subordinate said hurriedly: "Your Excellency, the guard station reinforcements haven't left the city yet!"

The Governor narrowed his eyes and said coldly: "Since Commander Qin's troops are so valiant, I imagine the White Pole Troops alone will suffice to repel the enemy. Close the gates."

On the flatboat, the White Pole Troops saw the water gate closing and quickly reported it to Zhang Fengyi.

Zhang Fengyi gritted her teeth and said: "Pay it no mind—cross the river at full speed!"

Even with only two thousand men, catching the enemy off guard would be more than enough to rout the rebels.

On Zijia Islet, the sound of gunfire and cannons grew ever denser, rumbling on without cease like a flood—clearly the fighting was extremely fierce.

Zhang Fengyi burned with anxiety, constantly urging the soldiers to row faster.

Fortunately, most of the rebel vessels on the river had been lured away, and the remaining sentry boats were far off and had not spotted them.

When they reached the middle of the Li River, they heard the sound of gunpowder explosions from the direction of Zijia Islet, along with a violent flash of fire that vanished in an instant.

Then explosions rang out in succession—five or six blasts in all.

Zhang Fengyi's heart leapt with joy—these were the thunderous sounds of gunpowder barrels bursting. It seemed her mother-in-law and husband had already broken into the enemy's central formation; this battle was as good as won. "Swoosh—pop!"

Suddenly a signal rocket shot into the sky, bursting open right above the Li River.

The White Pole Troops shouted: "Damn it, the rebels have spotted us!"

Zhang Fengyi commanded at the top of her lungs: "Don't get tangled up—cross the river at full speed!"

The northwest wind blew, and a sliver of pale moonlight illuminated the river's surface.

Zhang Fengyi's breath caught in her throat. Upstream, mere dozens of paces away, a fleet was charging toward them like an impenetrable wall.

The fleet came downstream with the current, ramming straight into them with devastating force, capsizing every flatboat. Over a thousand White Pole Troops vanished into the surging river waters in an instant.

On the Guilin city wall, the Governor stared at the scene, frozen in shock.

Zijia Islet.

Several walls of fire blazed fiercely, built from stacked timber doused with tung oil. The fire walls illuminated the entire battlefield, leaving the White Pole Troops nowhere to hide in the light.

The great fire Zhang Fengyi had seen from the city wall earlier—this was those fire walls.

"Load! Fire!"

"Boom! Boom! Boom!"

A row of mortars fired simultaneously, shells landing amidst the White Pole Troops' formation before erupting with thunderous explosions.

Right behind them, several three-pounder field cannons were touched off as well, along with matchlock muskets that rang out in endless waves like the tide.

Gunsmoke, steel, and lead shot shrouded the entire battlefield.

Following Lin Qian's orders, the Nan'ao forces showed the White Pole Troops no mercy.

In fact, because Lin Qian had cautioned them to treat the White Pole Troops with care, Lei Sanxiang had unleashed saturation bombardment, even bringing mortars—unsuited for field combat—into fire support. These soldiers and cannons had been concealed within the military tents, muzzles aimed at the rear of the camp, and only opened fire all at once when the White Pole Troops drew near. In a single instant, the White Pole Troops suffered catastrophic casualties.

Lei Sanxiang held position at the central command. From where he stood, he could only see the silhouettes of the White Pole Troops cast by the great fire.

Under the pounding of cannonballs and gunfire, those dark figures were torn apart one by one, and the number of men still standing on the battlefield grew fewer and fewer.

Just as the helmsman had said, these White Pole Troops were extremely valiant, fearless in the face of death. Even under such heavy casualties, they refused to break—some even endured the hail of gunfire, charging to the very front of the Nan'ao formation, fighting hand-to-hand until they died fighting.

The Nan'ao land forces were not skilled at night fighting, nor were they adept at close-quarters combat.

Had this camp raid not been anticipated in advance, given the elite quality of the White Pole Troops, the Nan'ao forces would surely have suffered a crushing defeat.

Four or five days earlier, Lei Sanxiang still couldn't fathom what Qin Liangyu intended. Based on the circumstances at the time, he was already eighty percent convinced that Qin Liangyu meant to leave the city and throw her life away. But Zhang Fengyi's surrender set off alarm bells blaring in Lei Sanxiang's heart.

According to the helmsman's intelligence, Qin Liangyu was born into a military family, with Confucian loyalty, filial piety, benevolence, and righteousness etched into her very bones. Even under the gravest injustice, at most she would lead her troops back to Shizhu—a rash surrender was certainly a deception.

At that time, Qin Liangyu had not yet entered the capital to aid the emperor, and had not received the platform summons of the Chongzhen Emperor.

In terms of loyalty, the Great Ming had many tusi chieftains whose reputations matched Qin Liangyu's—Peng Xianggan, Ran Yuelong, Lu Hong, and others.

Without the imperial poem about "requesting the long tassel from horseback beneath peach blossoms" to elevate her, Qin Liangyu's fame had not yet reached the point of being known in every household.

This was also why she dared to use a feigned surrender.

Little did she expect that the reputation of later generations would prove her undoing—a brilliant scheme seen through because of a feigned surrender.

A messenger came running at full speed: "Commander, the White Pole Troops are retreating toward the southeast!"

Lei Sanxiang thought briefly—to the southeast was Qixing Mountain. Once the White Pole Troops entered the mountains, they would be nearly impossible to catch. He ordered: "Have Battalion Commander Zhang of the Nine Divisions intercept the enemy."

"Yes!" The messenger ran off.

Immediately another messenger ran up: "Regional Commander, the enemy's main force on the river has been completely wiped out. Over a hundred have made it ashore, and the Sixth Division's soldiers are engaging them." "Understood."

Lei Sanxiang turned to look back—shouts of battle were indeed coming from the banks of the Li River.

Each division of the Nan'ao army numbered one thousand three hundred and fifty men.

The hundred-odd White Pole soldiers faced ten times their own numbers, having just escaped death in the river, with no retreat, their formation in disarray, soaked through—yet still they fought to the death. Truly an elite force.

Lei Sanxiang found it bitterly ironic—such elite troops, squeezed out by that Pig-Head King, sent out on a flatboat to die. It seemed this Great Ming empire truly was at its end. "Whoosh—"

A gust of wind blew through, and on both banks of the Li River, the wind suddenly shifted to a southeast wind—the Nan'ao army was now downwind of the flames.

No one panicked. April was, after all, the season when winter and summer monsoons changed over; shifting winds were a common occurrence.

Before employing the fire-wall strategy, Lei Sanxiang had already sent men to clear all flammable materials around the camp.

Even if the wind changed direction, the fire could not reach them.

By dawn, the battle was nearing its end.

The flames flickered and died out. The Nan'ao soldiers were all covered in soot, looking bedraggled.

Lei Sanxiang ordered the wounded treated, casualties counted, and the battlefield swept.

An hour later, his adjutant reported: "Regional Commander, this battle we killed over five hundred of the enemy and captured over a hundred. Our own casualties are one hundred and thirty-five." "That many?" Lei Sanxiang frowned.

The adjutant said: "Most of the casualties are from the Ninth Division. Among the enemy who broke through, there were a few who were especially formidable."

The Ninth Division was the unit responsible for intercepting the enemy last night. Qin Liangyu must have broken through in the Ninth Division's direction—higher casualties there were hardly surprising. Lei Sanxiang waved for the adjutant to withdraw.

Before long, the Sixth Division's Battalion Commander's voice came from outside the tent: "Hahaha, Regional Commander, look what your subordinate has caught!"

As he spoke, the Sixth Division's Battalion Commander entered the tent, followed by two soldiers who flanked a prisoner bound hand and foot with ropes. The man was of medium build, wearing a soaked cloth-faced iron armor, his face covered in blood, glaring furiously at Lei Sanxiang—it was Zhang Fengyi.

"General Zhang, we meet again." Lei Sanxiang said mockingly.

Zhang Fengyi roared in anger: "Less talk—kill me now!"

Lei Sanxiang said: "That won't do. Our military discipline is strict; we don't kill prisoners wantonly—unlike you Ming army lackeys." Zhang Fengyi: "Bullshit!"

"Take him away. Guard him well—don't let him die on us." Lei Sanxiang ordered.

At the same time, on Seven Star Mountain, Ma Xianglin gazed out over the Li River, his expression mournful.

On the river's surface, floating corpses could be dimly seen—from their clothing, they were all White Pole soldiers who had fallen in the river last night.

"Bastards! I'll kill you all!" Ma Xianglin clenched his fists tightly, his eyes moist.

Behind him, Qin Liangyu said: "A true man should stand tall between heaven and earth—stop acting like a woman. The night raid failed, but we have not lost everything yet. There is still a chance for revenge." Ma Xianglin wiped his tears, walked to his mother's side, and looked around—the remnant soldiers still gathered around them numbered only a hundred or so.

He felt somewhat deflated and said: "With this hundred-odd remnant force, how can we possibly take revenge…"

Qin Liangyu picked up a tree branch and drew a map of Guangxi on the ground: "The Li River and Gui River are Lin the traitor's main supply routes. If we can cut off this river, we can surely force him to withdraw."

Ma Xianglin said: "Even at its narrowest, the Li River is twenty to thirty zhang wide. Cutting off the waterway—easier said than done…"

"The Li River's channel is winding, and with the flood season approaching, the current is swift. Some stretches cannot be passed by sail and oar alone—trackers must be found to haul the boats." Ma Xianglin's eyes widened: "Mother, you want to kill the trackers? Those are all common folk!"

Qin Liangyu said: "Why kill the trackers? Just kill the rebel soldiers—the conscripted commoners hauling the boats will scatter on their own."

Ma Xianglin thought for a moment, then murmured: "I'm just afraid the Prince of Jingjiang won't hold out until the Nan'ao army withdraws."

"So there's no time for self-pity. We need to hurry and find a guide."

Qin Liangyu rose, her gaze full of resolve.

While the White Pole remnants sought their opportunity to strike…

Guilin city had already fallen into chaos.

In the temporary princely residence, teacups and vases lay smashed across the floor. Zhu Lühu sat gasping in a chair, his wounded eye throbbing with needle-like pain.

"Useless! All of you useless! How has the Great Ming's salary fed such a pack of incompetents!"

Zhu Lühu cursed loudly, and the steward brought tea to soothe his temper.

After drinking it, Zhu Lühu casually smashed the teacup as well.

The assembled officials in the hall wore grim expressions. They exchanged glances, silently understanding one another's thoughts.

The Governor said: "Your Highness, last night's battle was entirely because the chieftain Qin Liangyu acted on her own authority, starting hostilities rashly and advancing recklessly out of overconfidence."

The Regional Military Commissioner said: "Exactly. Your subordinate heard that the White Pole troops forcibly opened the city gates last night, nearly letting the rebels in. Fortunately, His Excellency the Governor made a decisive call and shut the gates tight, averting a loss of control."

Since things had come to this and Qin Liangyu could no longer be counted on, the assembled officials simply shifted all the blame onto the chieftain's troops.

Zhu Lühu raged: "Who asked you about that? What I'm anxious about is how to repel the enemy! Governor, do you have a good plan?"

"This… Your subordinate…" The Governor stammered, unable to speak.

"Regional Military Commissioner, where are the reinforcements now?" Zhu Lühu asked again.

"Er… um…" The Regional Military Commissioner felt as if a fishbone were stuck in his throat. As far as he knew, no reinforcements were coming at all—but he dared not say so truthfully.

Zhu Lühu laughed in fury: "Have you all gone mute? Are you saying the princely guards must personally defend the city?"

"Your Highness, calm your anger. Guilin's walls are strong and thick—if we simply gather and defend…" Even the Governor himself lacked conviction as he said this. Zhu Lühu was furious beyond measure and slammed the table hard: "No matter how thick the walls, can they stop cannon fire? I've already lost one eye—do you want me to lose my life too?"

No one in the room spoke.

After weighing the matter for a long time, Zhu Lühu said: "Convey my order—the entire army breaks out from the north of the city!"

"Your Highness… this…" Everyone was shocked by this fanciful idea.

"The White Pole troops left through the north gate, didn't they? A whole hall of officials, and you can't even match a chieftain? No more persuasion on this matter—it's decided! Three days from now, we leave the city!"

The steward reminded him quietly: "Your Highness, in three days' time, I fear the residence's belongings will be difficult to pack and load."

"Then five days? Ten days?"

The steward nodded slightly.

Zhu Lühu said: "Then ten days!"

The assembled officials stood stunned on the spot.

Zhu Lühu paid them no mind—he rose and left on his own.

That afternoon, news that the Prince of Jingjiang would flee the city spread throughout Guilin.

The Prince of Jingjiang's fief had been established for over two hundred years, and the various ranks of the clan attached to the princely house—from Defender-General of the State down to colonels—numbered over two thousand. If the prince was leaving, these people naturally had to follow.

Quite a few clansmen, thinking that since they were leaving anyway, they might as well enjoy themselves one last time.

So many clansmen gathered in the busy markets, robbing people in the streets, beating commoners, seizing women, and burning shops—the chaos growing ever larger.

Under the laws of the Great Ming, when clansmen of the imperial house committed crimes, local authorities had no right to intervene, and were not even permitted to arrest them.

Only the Regional Inspector and Censor, while reporting to the emperor, could seize the servants and henchmen of the clansmen.

With a great army besieging the city, the Regional Inspector naturally dared not meddle in such matters. The prefectural and county offices kept their gates tightly shut, and their runners cowered inside, terrified of drawing the clansmen's vengeance. And so, within a single day, Guilin witnessed the strange spectacle of the city descending into chaos from within while no external enemy had yet entered.

The Prince of Jingjiang's tyranny was too heavy to bear. The common people dared not resist, yet neither did they wish to sit and wait for death—so they fled the city in droves.

Their methods of escape were wildly varied: some made ropes from old clothing and climbed down from the city walls, while others used reeds to breathe underwater and slipped out through the water gates.

The troops guarding the city gates not only failed to stop them, but actually collected fees and provided assistance to the fleeing populace.

Another day passed, and the flight of commoners grew even more severe. With demand so high, the gate guards simply opened the city gates secretly at dusk, releasing people in batches.

Even some Guilin officials paid to flee, including the Guangxi Regional Inspector and Censor himself.

He had no family in Guilin, no ties to bind him, and no duty to defend the city. So he simply gathered up the valuables he had extorted, called his servants and guards, and slipped out of the city that very night.

Everything had happened too fast, too absurdly.

So much so that when word reached the Nan'ao army camp on the eastern bank of the Li River, Lei Sanxiang merely took it for another of Qin Liangyu's tricks.

After all, he had nearly fallen for a false surrender just days before. Lei Sanxiang was terrified that if the Nan'ao army entered the city, the White Spear troops would slam the door and beat the dog.

The captive Zhang Fengyi, hearing of the chaos in the city and the various slanders against Qin Liangyu, could not help but stand frozen, tears streaming down her face.

Another day passed, and Guilin city had fallen into complete disorder. Some poor folk who lacked the money to flee the city simply hardened their hearts and took to the streets to kill clansmen and vent their rage.

The clansmen also fought back with weapons. Casualties on both sides were not heavy, but the fighting set fires throughout the city, causing immense destruction.

The Prince of Jingjiang could no longer sit still. He urgently ordered his steward to bring only the land deeds and valuables, discard all other miscellaneous goods, and leave the city at once.

Even so, the prince's procession numbered over a hundred carriages, surrounded by palace guards and accompanied by other clansmen—a vast, sprawling column that clogged more than a dozen streets in succession.

Exiting through the North Gate, the procession followed the Li River along the official road, heading in the direction of the Lingqu Canal.

Lei Sanxiang, fearing a trap, ordered his ambush troops to withdraw and had men secretly follow for ten li. They found that the procession truly had no defenses whatsoever.

Lei Sanxiang was baffled. He summoned Zhang Fengyi and asked, "Tell me honestly—what trick is this now?"

Zhang Fengyi listened, then merely let out a long sigh and murmured, "Two thousand brothers of the stone pillars, dying for scum like this—truly not worth it."

Seeing that her manner did not seem feigned, Lei Sanxiang gave the order: "Let Bailangzai make his move. Strike fast and decisive—do not linger in battle."

Two hours later, a messenger came to report: "Regional Commander, the Prince of Jingjiang's procession has been fully captured by our forces. We have seized over a thousand clansmen, and captured countless gold, silver, vessels, agate, jade, and treasures of every kind, along with land deeds for over a hundred thousand mu…"

Lei Sanxiang asked, "What of our casualties?"

"None. The procession scattered and fled the moment they saw our troops. A few clansmen and guards managed to escape."

"You may go."

Lei Sanxiang's expression was strange as he looked at Zhang Fengyi and said, "General Qin serving such a rotten piece of goods—she truly has suffered."

Zhang Fengyi raised her head to the heavens and sighed deeply.

At that moment, a subordinate came to report: "Regional Commander, the Guangxi Governor, Regional Military Commissioner, Provincial Administration Commissioner, and others have thrown open Guilin's city gates and begged to surrender."

Lei Sanxiang rose to his feet and said, "Enter the city."

An hour later, escorted by his personal guards, Lei Sanxiang arrived before the Prince of Jingjiang's residence. Of that imposing mansion, aside from the surrounding walls, almost no intact building remained.

Lei Sanxiang personally went inside to inspect the shell craters, thoroughly satisfied with the power of the siege cannons.

The captive Guangxi grand officials were busy boasting of the Nan'ao army's might and denouncing the Prince of Jingjiang's various atrocities.

Another subordinate came to report: "Regional Commander, a great quantity of treasure has been found in the prince's temporary residence. The brothers are tallying it now."

"Understood."

"Regional Commander, the Three Offices and one banner have discovered large amounts of gold and silver in the ruins of the prince's residence—looks to be over a hundred thousand taels."

"Understood."

No joy showed on Lei Sanxiang's face. He asked, "And where is that pig-headed prince?"

The subordinate said, "On Commander Bai's ship."

"Bring him here."

The subordinate immediately urged, "Regional Commander, the Helmsman said this man is useful and must not be killed."

"Bring him here!" Lei Sanxiang suppressed his fury.

After a long while, the one-eyed Zhu Luhu was brought before Lei Sanxiang. He saw the Nan'ao army's fierce generals gathered in numbers, all staring straight at him with knife-like gazes, as if they wanted to carve the flesh from his bones.

Zhu Luhu broke out in a cold sweat, his tone fawning: "This humble prince, Zhu Luhu, pays respects to the General. I beg the General—ah!"

Before he could finish speaking, a fist the size of a sandbag appeared before his eyes.

Zhu Luhu heard a crisp crack at his face, searing pain struck him, tears gushed from both eyes, and warm liquid streamed down his face.

He toppled backward violently and crashed to the ground.

Fortunately, a Nan'ao soldier stretched out his foot to cushion the back of Zhu Luhu's head—otherwise, had his skull struck the ground, he might well have died on the spot.

Only then did Zhu Luhu let out a scream like a pig being slaughtered. Two of his front teeth had been knocked out, his nose bone broken, blood pouring freely down his face as he writhed on the ground like a maggot—a truly pitiful sight to the extreme.

Lei Sanxiang flicked the blood from his fist. Several of his Assistant Regional Commanders immediately stepped forward to restrain him, saying, "Regional Commander, the Helmsman has—"

Lei Sanxiang said, "The Helmsman only said not to kill him—he never said this beast couldn't suffer a bit. Don't worry, this punch of mine had measure. He won't die." The Assistant Regional Commanders stepped back, half-convinced.

Lei Sanxiang looked over at Zhang Fengyi and said, "You take a punch too—let off some steam."

Zhang Fengyi said coldly, "I don't have any measure in my punches."

"Army doctor!" Lei Sanxiang shouted.

The army doctor immediately hurried over with his medicine box slung across his shoulder.

"Find a spot on this beast's body—one that hurts, but won't kill him."

The military surgeon moved swiftly, picked up a tree branch, and gestured at Zhu Lühu's body: "The nasal bone is excellent, but unfortunately it's already been broken."

"The eye sockets and ears aren't bad either, but the angle of attack is tricky—easy to cause blindness or deafness."

"The collarbone works too—even if it breaks, it's not fatal."

"And the inner thigh, the abdomen, the top of the foot..."

Zhang Fengyi raised his foot and stamped down. Zhu Lühu's left collarbone gave a crisp crack, followed by another bloodcurdling scream.

"The general chose well. A fractured collarbone is quite easy to treat—and the nasal bone too. I'll reset the bones for the patient right now, so he heals faster and the bones won't grow crooked."

The surgeon crouched down as he spoke, wiped the blood from Zhu Lühu's face with a wet handkerchief, and felt along the nasal bone with his fingers. A moment later, he gave it a sharp twist—a crisp *pa-da* sound rang out.

Zhu Lühu's whole body convulsed in agony. His voice was completely hoarse by now; tears, snot, and blood smeared across his face in a thick layer.

"You base-born wretches! This prince will have you all killed! Traitors! Filthy commoners! Don't touch me with your dirty hands!"

The surgeon wiped his hands and said expressionlessly: "Next is the collarbone."

Zhu Lühu's eyes bulged wide. He struggled to escape, begging for mercy: "This humble prince was wrong! Take whatever you want—just spare me, spare—" Aaah! Zhu Lühu let out a bloodcurdling scream, his body convulsing violently, eyes rolling back as he fainted from the pain. Cold sweat soaked the ground beneath him completely.

"Take him away and keep a close watch on him. Whatever you do, don't let him die." Lei Sanxiang's voice carried a bone-chilling coldness.

Then he ordered: "Write a military dispatch. Report the victory."

Meanwhile.

Qin Liangyu had already found a guide. Through a mixture of bribery and intimidation, the guide led over a hundred White Pole soldiers to a riverbank.

The hundred-odd White Pole soldiers hid among the trees on the mountainside, peeking through gaps in the branches and leaves at the riverbank below.

The guide said: "This place is called Xiama Shoal. The Li River narrows here, making the bends sharp and the current swift. Any boat that wants to pass must be towed by trackers."

Ma Xianglin said in a low voice: "Mother, look."

Qin Liangyu followed his gaze. A group of commoners were strolling toward the riverbank, chatting and laughing—mostly sturdy young men, each carrying thick hempen ropes. Ma Xianglin searched carefully among the crowd for soldiers, stared for a long while, then said in confusion: "Why are there only two of them?"

Qin Liangyu said: "Perhaps they've changed into civilian clothes."

Ma Xianglin said through gritted teeth: "Despicable!"

A moment later, a fleet emerged from behind a distant mountain—over twenty sand junks, riding deep in the water, struggling mightily as they sailed against the current. Ma Xianglin said happily: "There are only about twenty guards on the boats. The rebel troops are awfully arrogant."

Qin Liangyu picked up her great buffalo-horn bow and gave orders: "When the fleet reaches us, I'll shoot and kill the rebel soldiers on the shore. You take the men and seize the tow ropes—don't let the rebel boats get away."

The guide said in terror: "You... you're going to rob the grain convoy?"

Ma Xianglin hissed in a low voice: "Quiet!"

The fleet reached Xiama Shoal. The trackers tossed their tow ropes to the boats; the crew caught them and tied them to the bows, and men on shore hauled the boats forward against the current.

The trackers drew closer and closer to where the White Pole soldiers were hiding.

The towing chant could be heard approaching—one man leading in a loud voice, the others joining in.

"The Li River's waters, flow to the king's granary—"

"Heave-ho!"

"Ivory Mountain, stretching beyond sight—"

"Heave-ho!"

"Past this shoal, another shoal lies—"

The chant grew louder as it drew near. Qin Liangyu straightened up, drew back her great bow, the bowstring letting out a teeth-grinding creak.

At that critical moment, someone shouted at the top of his lungs: "Fellow villagers, run! The government troops are here!"

Ma Xianglin started in alarm. The guide had suddenly bolted out, sprinting toward the riverbank, waving his arms wildly while screaming at the top of his lungs.

"What the hell is he doing?" Ma Xianglin berated his men.

All the trackers' attention was drawn to the guide. At that moment, Qin Liangyu released her grip—a single arrow flew true and struck the Nan'ao soldier on the shore square between the eyes.

"Kill!" Ma Xianglin drew his spear and charged toward Xiama Shoal.

Yahei

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