Chapter 297: Longyan Battle Record (Twenty)

The days spent in ambush were utterly tedious. No noise, no fires for hot meals — they could only stave off hunger with compressed rations, washed down with spring water from nearby that had been treated with bleaching powder.

Fortunately, the soldiers had all brought their personal kits, and the logistics team had prepared an insect-exterminating divine tool, so the troops were able to get ample rest in their makeshift camp.

This organochlorine compound was a great killer for dealing with all kinds of insects and wiping out malaria. Yet this "emulsion"-type insecticide would travel and accumulate up the biological chain from the very bottom; a formula originally meant to kill insects ultimately nearly drove the bald eagles of North America to extinction. Due to its high pollution nature, it was once banned in later generations.

The small amount synthesized in the Kiln District chemical plant's laboratory was originally intended only for samples and teaching. But considering that this mission was the Empire's troops' first operation deep in the heart of Ming Continent, carrying immense symbolic significance, the Military still applied for a little for the company. Spare at home, spend on the road, after all.

The ambush operation that began at noon stretched all the way into the evening. Throughout this time, Wei Yuan maintained communication with every detachment via the line rigged atop the trees.

Upon learning that Xiancheng had already been wrapped up, Wei Yuan ordered that the "cleanup pack horse team" begin forming early the next morning. If everything went smoothly, the fighting here should be over before noon the next day, and the cleanup team with the pack horses could arrive at the bandit stronghold by the following day at the latest to carry out the household-extermination plan: confiscate property, bp.

And Wei Yuan's most important communication contact was the special warfare squad responsible for monitoring the bandit stronghold at Duima Ridge. The area in front of the stronghold gate was now under the personal surveillance of Du Dewei and his men; they would send a communication signal every hour, and report immediately under special circumstances.

Yet apart from scattered bandits trickling in and out of the stronghold, Wei Yuan received no word of the Bandit Gang mobilizing on a large scale, all the way until nightfall. That being the case, after arranging the sentries, Wei Yuan went to rest and conserve his energy for the next day.

The night passed without incident. Early the next morning, Wei Yuan was already stationed beside the telegraph machine. Pacing back and forth, he was undoubtedly anxious at heart: the reason the troops had force-marched through the night to reach this place was out of an attitude of preparing for the enemy at their strongest.

But what if the bandits refused to cooperate?

If the bandits had absolutely no "B" clue about the Red Spear Camp's marching speed, then this situation was possible: the bandits assumed that those weary, lazy government troops hauling cannons could only cover thirty to fifty li a day, so today the main bandit force would still hold position, waiting until the next day to descend the mountain.

Although the likelihood of this scenario was small — Lin Shiwan had roamed the Edo for so many years, in theory he shouldn't be so arrogant as to treat a strong foe like a weak chicken — Wei Yuan had no confidence right now. If this worst-case scenario happened, then he would have to keep his troops lying low for an extra day, and the backup plan over at Longyan would also have to be put on hold. So at this moment, he was quite anxious.

Time passed second by second in the agonizing wait. At 7 a. m., as the morning sun was just rising, Wei Yuan did not receive word from the front; instead, he got a message from the lookout post beside him: someone was passing by on Bald Ditch below.

Lying prone at the cliff's edge, watching the two figures gradually disappear below through his binoculars, Wei Yuan keenly sensed that these two travelers hurrying toward the bandit stronghold early in the morning were, in all likelihood, spies the Bandit Gang had planted in Ningyang County.

"Notify the front to observe closely. Do not intercept them."

About an hour after Wei Yuan issued this order, sure enough, those two men entered the bandit stronghold. At this, everyone was invigorated; Wei Yuan had a premonition that the Bandit Gang would definitely make a move next!

The move came very quickly: a little past 8 a. m., a man hurried out of the bandit stronghold — Su Tieqiang. One hour later, Su Tieqiang stood in the woods above Bald Ditch, staring in astonishment at Wei Yuan before him and the large group of Warriors behind him.

"Old Su, here to meet the troops, are you?" Wei Yuan asked, propping his chin on his hand with a playful look.

"Yes, yes!" Su Tieqiang's face was instantly filled with delighted surprise. "I had originally intended to go to Hulu Valley to welcome the great army; I never imagined I would encounter you here, General. This is truly divine speed!"

"Heh heh, we got here yesterday. Didn't expect that, did you?"

"Impressive, impressive!" Su Tieqiang extended his thumb. The next moment, he said excitedly, "Since that's the case, allow me to return to the stronghold once more and scout for you, General."

With that, Su Tieqiang turned around, intending to leave.

Yet a huge palm landed on his shoulder. Pressing Su Tieqiang down, Wei Yuan chuckled and said to him, "You'd better rest here. Ten minutes ago, Lin Shiwan's main force already marched out."

Dressed in a black, short homespun jacket of coarse cloth and gripping a sharp blade, Lin Shiwan stood atop the perilous Beheading Stone before the gate of Duima Ridge, watching the torrent of bandits pouring out below him, his eyes fierce and murderous.

After receiving the message delivered overnight from Longyan the day before, Lin Shiwan had begun large-scale preparations for today's battle.

He not only sent orders recalling all the able-bodied homebound bandits from the surrounding area back to the mountain stronghold, but also urgently transported a large quantity of supplies from his own clan home, the Lin Family Tulou.

Although intelligence from all sides confirmed that this time the Official Army had the capability to assault fortifications, Lin Shiwan, as a bandit chief who dominated a region, was not scared out of his wits after all.

His calculation was this: first ambush the Official Army at Hulu Valley. If afterward the Official Army still had the guts to come attack the stronghold, then the men could rely on the terrain to hold out for a while. Even if they lost, he, Lin Shiwan, would have at least crossed blades with the Official Army and not lost face for the outlaws; escaping then wouldn't be too late.

If he didn't even dare to engage, how could he lead the gang in the future?

Lin Shiwan did have a trump card: the karst caves and stone forest beneath the Duima Ridge bandit stronghold were the foundation supporting his entire strategic decision. If the Bandit Gang ultimately couldn't hold on and wanted to escape, no one could stop them.

So today, according to plan, he was sallying forth in full force. When the spies in Ningyang County had rushed over early in the morning to report they hadn't seen the Official Army, Lin Shiwan knew he had to move out.

Whether this group of Official Army troops were elites deliberately bypassing Ningyang County on their march, or were still dragging their feet dozens of li away, Lin Shiwan did not intend to take risks. He likewise had to prepare for the enemy at their strongest, leading his men ahead of time to lie in ambush at Hulu Valley and seize the initiative.

Thus, not long after sending Su Tieqiang out to lure the Official Army, Lin Shiwan led 500 elite fighters selected from the entire Bandit Gang down the mountain.

The large force's marching speed was still very fast. Being a bandit in the mountains of Western Fujian was just like being a young-and-dangerous thug in Tongluo Bay — you couldn't survive without some real skills.

All the bandits wore agile short outfits, and a portion of the veteran old goods even had cloth Leg Wraps on. These men strode as if on wings, traversing the rugged Goat Gut Path as if it were level ground. At the same time, they maintained excellent march discipline: no one made a ruckus or clamor.

Marching quietly was not something bandits were born knowing; it was forced out of them. Usually, whether descending the mountain to pillage or ambushing a merchant caravan, noise was a major taboo: human voices carried far in the silent mountains. Once a horse convoy or village was on alert, the bandits, lacking the ability to assault fortifications, would suffer losses.

Yet today, everything was going wrong.

The large bandit force had just marched three or four li when a shrill, miserable cry rang through the mountain forest. Greatly alarmed by the sound, Lin Shiwan urgently ordered the column to halt, then rushed to the rear with his personal followers and found the bandit who had let out that scream: Chen Jinfu.

Chen Jinfu was not very old, a standard second-generation bandit. His father had long since retired due to age, and this Chen Jinfu was here to fill the vacancy; today was his first time going on a mission with the group.

Seeing the young, pale-faced Chen Jinfu, Chief Lin rushed over without even asking the reason and slapped him several times across the face. "Fuck your mother, mourning someone? Didn't your dad teach you the rules of the road?"

"A monster bug, a monster bug!" Chen Jinfu, trembling from the slaps, still stammered out what he had just glimpsed. "Up in the treetop, there was a monster bug as big as a basket, a red-eyed bug!"

As Chen Jinfu said this, he even stretched out both hands to mime a circle the size of a washbasin.

"Ai, the Chen Family really has no one left, look how scared this kid is." Hearing this, Lin Shiwan shook his head sadly. A group of veteran old bandits beside him also chuckled "heh heh."

Patting the shoulder of this second-generation bandit, whose face was pale with fright and suffering from pre-battle hallucination syndrome, Lin Shiwan said to him viciously, "Walk obediently. If you dare make another sound, I'll cleave you in two with one blade!"

The column resumed its march.

This time, the marching column carried a slightly more relaxed atmosphere: the rookie bandit's bizarre hallucination had given everyone a bit of n.

Yet today was truly uncanny. Just when the main force was still three li from Bald Ditch, another strange thing happened: a veteran old bandit also let out a startled cry.

Raging with fury, Lin Shiwan immediately drew his waist knife, rushed in front of the old bandit, and made as if to slash him.

The old bandit dropped to his knees with a "thud." "Great Boss, it was an iron spider the size of a washbasin. I dare not deceive you, old sir."

Lin Shiwan charged over and delivered a flying kick. "Iron your mother! Have you all been scared witless by the soldiers? If anyone dares act up again, they'll answer to this blade of mine!"

Half an hour later, under the command of the furious Great Boss, the column silently entered Bald Ditch.

The overall length of Bald Ditch was not particularly long, roughly one li or so. The terrain inside the ditch, including the entrances at both ends, was quite spacious, and there were many boulders on the ground. To be honest, this place did not count as an ambush point in the traditional sense — even if ambushed, the victims could easily withdraw.

So the Bandit Gang's main force hurriedly marched right in: their target, Hulu Valley, was just ahead, right past the ditch.

The next moment, Lin Shiwan, marching in the very center of the column, stopped in his tracks again. This time, there was no need for anyone to cry out; a large number of men, including Lin Shiwan himself, clearly saw that "iron spider" as big as a basket right above their heads.

This "iron spider" was jet-black all over, its four pitch-black iron legs reflecting a bright white gleam. It was emitting a faint buzzing sound, hovering in the air about a dozen meters above Lin Shiwan's head. Even under the high noon sun, the pair of glassy compound eyes on the iron spider still emitted an eerie red glow.

Lin Shiwan, whose eyesight was extremely sharp, even saw two conspicuous white characters on the iron spider's body: "Da Jiang."

Although Lin Shiwan was illiterate, did he even need to be literate at a moment like this? He only needed to confirm they were characters. If they were characters, that meant it was man-made; if it was man-made, then this iron spider definitely had an owner.

In that first moment, Lin Shiwan thought of those Short-Hairs who manipulated all sorts of mechanical iron devices for construction. The next instant, his entire body turning cold, he bellowed, "This is bad! It's an ambush! Retreat, quickly!"

Before his words had even faded, the first person to echo the Great Boss appeared: he let out an utterly agonized long scream and came flying down from the top of the cliff.