Chapter 67: The Supreme Evasion Technique

Thwip!

A feathered arrow thudded into the earthen wall, its crow-feather fletching still quivering.

The soldier who had been about to swing his blade was startled; he kicked over the man beneath his sword and turned his head to look.

He saw a man holding a soft bow, official boots on his feet, dressed in plain white inner garments.

The soldier found it very strange and said with a vicious grin, "Coming out in your underwear to fight your grandpa?"

Before he finished speaking, another arrow came.

The soldier clutched his throat and staggered backward, hacking wildly with his blade as he made a hoarse "heh-heh" sound, trying to push back the approaching Liu Chengzong.

But he had no strength left; soon he could not even hold onto his waist saber, which weighed barely a catty and a half.

Finally leaning against the wall, he watched helplessly as Liu Chengzong pulled out the arrow stuck in the wall.

The last thing he heard was Liu Chengzong asking him, "Are you a soldier or a bandit?"

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Three extremely rapid gunshots rang out in quick succession.

The sound of lead balls tearing through cloth rang in his ears; in that instant, Liu Chengzong's heart lurched violently—he thought he was dead.

Before him, the musketeer holding a three-eyed gun was still smoking with saltpeter fumes; behind him, the earthen wall was riddled with dense lead-ball holes.

In that moment, the two men, separated by seventeen or eighteen paces, both stood frozen in place.

The musketeer was staring at Liu Chengzong.

Liu Chengzong was also looking down at himself, then raised his head and smiled scornfully.

The musketeer, all his lead balls having missed, became furious from embarrassment and charged forward, swinging his three-eyed gun like a club.

Liu Chengzong picked up his blade and advanced to meet him, casually hurling the crow-feather arrow he had just retrieved.

As the musketeer dodged, Liu Chengzong stepped forward, sweeping his blade upward and slicing the man's outer thigh.

The musketeer retreated; Liu Chengzong advanced, stepping in and chopping his blade down onto the man's shoulder.

With the third advancing step, the musketeer fell.

Liu Chengzong delivered a finishing blow, then gestured to the villagers hiding off to the side, signaling them to move back.

Only then did he turn back to pick up his bow and arrows, unbuckle the leather belt with its scabbard from the dead garrison soldier, and glance at the gunshot holes in the earthen wall with lingering fear.

Nine lead pellets, striking the wall in a triangular pattern.

The standard northern Ming army method for loading a three-eyed gun.

There was no need to inspect the gun; with a shot pattern like that, the three barrels must all be very straight—the problem lay in the iron plates securing the three barrels at the front and back.

The rear plate was small and the front plate large, causing the three perfectly straight barrels to diverge far too widely when fired together.

No matter who you aim this thing at, the person next to the target is guaranteed to die.

The most supreme evasion technique is to stand perfectly still.

Li Wanqing arrived belatedly, bow in hand, and said urgently, "And he calls himself 'Storm the Heavens'—he's only gathered twenty or thirty men. Going deeper is suicide. Let's save a few people and run!"

Looking back, the village on the hillside—men and women, young and old—were all fleeing into the mountains to the east; only a dozen or so youths, led by Liu Guoneng, were heading this way.

This had nothing to do with courage; when ordinary folk encountered rampaging government troops, the will to resist simply could not arise.

"The mountains are only this big—where the hell can they even run to!"

The speaker was Yang Yanchang. He had been running around with bad luck and had not found a handy weapon. Only now did he notice the two men lying by the wall on the ground and said, "Already got two?"

As he spoke, Liu Chengzong drew his bow and nocked an arrow, loosing it at a garrison soldier who had just stepped out of a courtyard gate a dozen paces away, and said, "Three!"

The words had barely left his mouth when the man was struck by the arrow with a cry. However, the arrow seemed only to have lodged in his brigandine; he cursed loudly, shrugged his shoulder, threw the woman he had seized to the ground, raised his blade and shouted twice to his comrades, then strode forward to attack.

He was then shot down by Li Wanqing, who said, "Brother Tiger General, that bow of yours is too light—shall we swap?"

"Light or not, just use it!"

Liu Chengzong was not using his own bow; invited by the prefect's yamen, he had brought no weapons at all.

The bow he had found in the village was very light, drawing to full easily, making him feel for a moment as if he were back learning archery with Li Hongji.

He walked a few steps and kicked away the waist saber of the garrison soldier who was curled up groaning from the arrow wound, then said to the terrified woman who had retreated back into the house, "Tie him up."

The good wives of northern Shaanxi were bold after all.

Frightened as she was, she was also utterly obedient. Moments later, she not only brought rope but also clutched a pair of scissors: "He killed my husband—let me stab him twice first!"

Just then, two garrison soldiers came running from the far end of the street. One, armed with saber and shield, hurled a short javelin as he ran; the other, wielding a three-eyed gun, had already knelt on one knee and was aiming the match cord this way.

Liu Chengzong was so startled his hairs stood on end. He hurriedly hauled the garrison soldier up as a shield in front of him, advanced with his blade, and shouted at the woman holding the rope to hide inside the house.

Liu Chengzong did not know how to use firearms; his other set of memories understood the principles of firearms but knew little about the firearms of this era.

In his eyes, this thing could no longer be described as merely terrifying.

Something that shoots accurately is terrifying, but as long as you don't let it aim at you, you need not fear it.

Something that shoots inaccurately is also terrifying, but as long as you let it aim at you, you need not fear it.

Only this kind of thing—which might shoot accurately or might not—leaves a man with no way to dodge.

This was probability, and a man cannot fight against probability.

Bang!

A lead ball flew past his side; Liu Chengzong walked forward.

Bang!

A heavy impact struck his hands; the garrison soldier in front of him let out a shriek.

Bang!

The third shot was not aimed at him; instead, the garrison soldier in front of him suddenly slammed backward, knocking Liu Chengzong head over heels.

It turned out the other garrison soldier, armed with saber and shield, had charged forward, ramming hard with his shield before rolling his blade in for the kill.

Liu Chengzong swung his blade in haste, but it was solidly blocked by the shield-bearer, and he nearly could not pull his blade back.

This sword-and-shield man kept his center of gravity extremely low, a leather-faced round shield guarding high and low, just like a turtle shell. His thinking was also very clear — use the shield to pin your single saber and press forward, then stab you while you can't recover your weapon.

Liu Chengzong knew in his heart he had met an expert. His weapon was being suppressed and he simply couldn't fight. He feinted a slash, then retreated.

Fortunately, Li Wanqing was at the side. He strung his bow and loosed arrows at that sword-and-shield man — three arrows in succession, each one blocked by the shield.

Only then did it give Liu Chengzong a moment to catch his breath. Otherwise, the sword-and-shield man would have had the chance to throw a javelin at him.

Back in the Mizhi County jail, Gao Yingxiang had told him: when you see a sword-and-shield man or a long spear while carrying a single saber, you have to pull up your legs and run, but you must beware of javelins — a sword-and-shield man always carries a few javelins.

He turned and ran back to the courtyard, picked up the waist saber he had kicked aside earlier, and swung both blades as he charged in again.

Although his weapon was still being suppressed, Liu Chengzong pointed east and struck west, constantly circling the sword-and-shield man, doing his best to strike at his left-side openings. After several cuts, he even gained some advantage.

Especially with Li Wanqing waiting for an opening behind him, and Yang Yanchang also picking up that inaccurate three-eyed blunderbuss and finishing the reload.

After dragging on for only a brief moment, the blunderbuss fired toward the distance.

Naturally, it missed again — no one could hit a person accurately with this blunderbuss.

But the musketeer behind was scared off, and the sword-and-shield man fighting Liu Chengzong also had his spirit thrown into chaos.

In a flash, Liu Chengzong feinted with his dominant hand, and the left-hand blade found an opening and stole his leg. Then he circled around and added two more cuts to spare him the suffering.

This bout of combat left Liu Chengzong drenched in sweat. Part of it was exhaustion, but more of it was the terror of facing a sword-and-shield man with a single saber.

But now he felt at ease. He picked the better of the two blades to use, and lifted that round shield onto his arm.

Li Wanqing and Yang Yanchang were very sensible — one held a bow, the other a blunderbuss, and even the woman hiding in the house came out and picked up a blade, staying close to his left and right as they pushed forward.

In a short time, the small squad swept along the village street. Scattered government troops — some had just come out of houses when Li Wanqing shot them, others were wounded by Yang Yanchang's fated blunderbuss marksmanship.

And those who refused to believe in fate and charged over — one bash and one thrust from Liu Chengzong took their lives.

In mere moments, the surviving villagers all picked up weapons and gathered behind him, the group growing larger and larger.

And at the end of the street, Liu Guoneng and the able-bodied men he led had finally completed the encirclement, trapping the remaining dozen or so guard troops in the village, closing in from both ends to slaughter them.