Chapter 93: Plain Black Banner

Xinxing Town was neither small nor large; a single bluestone road running east to west strung the town together.

Along this bluestone road stood dozens of shops large and small, and there were even a few establishments of the sort one normally saw only in a county seat — teahouses, wine shops, cart-and-horse agencies.

Though Xinxing was only a town, it was after all the gateway to Zhaoqing Prefecture. Its location linked it in all directions, making it the foremost transport hub at the southern end of Yunwu Mountain, and shrewd merchants naturally would not pass up such a prize.

These were chaotic times, but no matter how chaotic the world became, as long as people still lived, there was business to be done in food, drink, and clothing.

Add to that Xinxing Town's position as a key transport point, and it was only natural that all manner of trade flourished here more than elsewhere.

Yet in broad daylight, the bluestone road that in the past had always surged with crowds now had scarcely a soul walking on it. Most of the shops had barred their doors and closed; only one wine shop and one cloth shop still had their doors open.

The wine shop had a few tables of custom, but they were Green Standard soldiers eating and drinking.

The shop's Manager Song sat with his hands tucked in his sleeves in a private room on the second floor, sipping tea while doing his accounts, not in the least worried that those Green Standard soldiers would eat without paying.

For the owner of this wine shop was none other than those Green Standard soldiers' own Company Commander, Zhao Shiyu. Eating in a wine shop opened by their own Company Commander — how many Green Standard soldiers would be tired of living enough to dine and dash?

Unlike the relative bustle of the wine shop, the cloth shop across the way actually had no business at all. Two shop assistants sat there lazily, eyeing the wine shop askance.

From the way they kept swallowing their saliva, Manager Song could tell those two fellows were certainly craving a bite.

The cloth shop's owner was from Zhaoqing Prefecture and was said to have some connection with the Prefect, which was how he had managed to take over this fairly well-situated storefront.

Word had also been passed among the Green Standard, so no one dared make trouble at the cloth shop.

But today, when every other shop had closed for the day, why was this cloth shop still open? Not even the shadow of a ghost could be seen — how could they have any business?

Judging by the look of those two assistants, perhaps that fat Qi was sleeping in the back himself, leaving those two bitter melons to hold the front. Whether there were dates or not, give the tree a couple of whacks first — that fat fellow certainly had leisure on his mind.

As Manager Song mused, he suddenly sighed and cursed under his breath: "This murderous urging." Then he shifted his gaze toward several wooden poles not far to the east.

Cages hung from the poles, each stuffed with something dark and shapeless.

He did not dare look closely into the cages; in fact, he averted his eyes without so much as a second glance, because he knew that those dark shapeless things were nothing other than human heads chopped off just last night.

To the east of Xinxing Town lay a stretch of wasteland. For some unknown reason, the soil there was far poorer than elsewhere, and crops planted there yielded very little, so none of the townsfolk were willing to farm it.

Over the years, this wasteland had gradually become a common burial ground for the unclaimed dead.

At this moment, in that burial ground, a dozen or so men with queues and tattered, ragged clothes were laboriously digging pits. Seven or eight pits had already been dug. Off to one side stood an oxcart, its load covered with straw mats, hiding whatever lay beneath.

"Hurry up and dig, everyone. The sooner we bury these dead wretches, the sooner we can go back."

The town headman, Li Laoquan, was getting on in years and suffered from a chronic cough. Every few words he had to stop and cough violently; otherwise, he feared he might fail to draw breath and drop dead on the spot.

The men digging the pits were all men of the town, most of whom Li Laoquan had watched grow up since childhood, so they held him in great respect. After Li Laoquan spoke, they all quickened their pace.

No one wanted to linger in this haunted place; even in broad daylight, being here made one's skin crawl. The headman was right — the sooner the work was done, the sooner they could go home.

Soon the pits were all dug, and Li Laoquan picked a few men to go to the oxcart and carry down the corpses covered by the straw mats.

Those chosen all showed some hesitation on their faces, but under Li Laoquan's gaze, they steeled themselves and went to carry the corpses.

One younger fellow, upon reaching the oxcart, muttered a string of words as if praying to a bodhisattva.

Seeing this, the others, holding to the attitude that it was better to believe such things existed than to assume they did not, also said a few good words to these "dead wretches."

Only after Li Laoquan impatiently urged them on did they remove the straw mats, lift the corpses from the cart one by one, and then place them one by one into the pits already dug.

None of the corpses carried down had heads; their heads were all hanging from the wooden poles at the east end of town. To die and not even have a whole corpse — it was truly pitiful to behold.

After the corpses were buried in the pits, Li Laoquan went and looked them over one by one. Finally he let out a long sigh and shook his head helplessly.

It was not that he had not asked the Company Commander for the heads; but the man had cursed him roundly, and there was nothing to be done. It could only be this way.

Tombstones were certainly out of the question. These men had all been beheaded by the Green Standard on the charge of "colluding with bandits" — the great crime of rebellion.

Who would dare erect a stele for them? All they could do was note which pit held which man, and later have their wives and children come in secret to burn some spirit money.

Amid all this sorrow, Li Laoquan was about to lead the men back when suddenly his body trembled, and he stood there frozen, utterly motionless. The men beside him, finding this strange, followed the headman's gaze toward Yunwu Mountain to the east.

After a single glance, they too stopped as if bewitched. They saw a banner moving toward them from the distance.

When the banner drew nearer, Li Laoquan and his men all discovered at once that beneath it were many people dressed in black. These black-clad figures seemed to have emerged from distant Yunwu Mountain; seen from afar, they were a dark, dense mass, impossible to tell how many.

Once these black-clad figures appeared, they advanced forward behind the banner. There was no endless blaring of horns, no hoarse shouting of commands, no battle cries of kill and strike — they simply moved forward behind the banner in silence.

In the town not far away, sharp-eyed Green Standard soldiers also spotted those black-clothed men.

Who were those people?

Everyone was puzzled, not knowing what this group of black-clad men had come to do.

"Are they from the court?" An honest, simple man set down his shovel and stared at the black-clad men with great curiosity, hesitating. "Plain Black Banner?"

"Does the court have a Plain Black Banner?"

The man beside him gaped at this. "Nonsense! I've heard the court has two yellow banners, two red banners, two white banners, and two blue banners — but when has anyone ever heard of two black banners?"

"The court's troops have no such thing as two black banners. Besides, that refers to the color of the banners, not the color of the clothes. If you don't know, don't talk nonsense. And would the court's Manchu soldiers ever come to a place like ours? Stop your wild jabbering."

Li Laoquan, who was considered the most widely traveled and knowledgeable man in town, naturally did not buy any talk of a Plain Black Banner.

He watched for a while; the black-clad men were still far off, and in his haste he could not make out just who they were, nor what was written on the banner. Just as the group stood baffled, suddenly the sound of drums rose from the ranks of the black-clad men.

At once their pace of advance quickened sharply. Li Laoquan could see clearly — those black-clad men were charging straight toward the town!