Chapter 189: Big Brother, I

The moment those words were spoken, the man by the wagon across from them froze, and Zhao Jin froze as well — he had already noticed that all four men on the other side looked unnatural.

They were only two or three paces apart. Zhao Jin had already seen enough: from the moment the wagon approached and stopped, the road showed nothing unusual beyond the wheel ruts, and he had never spotted any obstacle that could snap an axle. The four men seemed normal at a glance, but their expressions were off.

Along this journey, they had encountered other travelers, but those people, seeing Zhao Jin's group fully armed, had all been curious and fearful, keeping their distance, some even leaving the official road and waiting for them to pass before daring to return.

Yet these four men before him wore expressions of frustration, surprise, and awkwardness — but no fear. Seeing Zhao Jin approach with a spear held in one hand, they showed not the slightest trace of dread.

"Big Brother, should we get everyone to help move it?" Ji Xiang called out from behind.

Zhao Jin did not answer. He noticed that although the four men before him had rough hands and feet and dark, weathered skin, their bearing and manner lacked the numb timidity of villagers or farmers. Their eyes flickered not from fear...

His silence drew the others' attention as well. The man facing Zhao Jin put on an apologetic smile, but his right hand reached behind his back.

Zhao Jin suddenly lunged forward a step. His right hand held the spear steady; his left drew the short blade at his waist. Without the slightest pause, he drove it straight into the man's throat.

No one had expected Zhao Jin to strike so decisively and cleanly — and to open with a killing blow.

Zhao Jin pulled the short blade free. Blood sprayed wildly. The man tried to raise a hand to cover the wound but could not. His body went limp and collapsed. In the hand he had hidden behind his back was a dagger.

One blade, one life. Zhao Jin's companions were still frozen in shock. The three remaining men's faces twisted violently — they did not panic or break. Instead, they drew short blades and daggers from their clothes, from their lower backs. The one nearest charged at Zhao Jin, bent low.

At such close range, it was all about seizing the initiative. Get close enough, and a short blade could kill just as easily.

The moment the man lunged, Zhao Jin retreated, smoothly sheathing his blade in the same motion. He leveled his spear and thrust fiercely. The retreat opened distance; the spear drove into the charging man's neck. He pulled it free, and the man collapsed face-first onto the ground.

A shriek of terror rang out — it was Zhao Jin's cart driver, finally reacting. Blood had already splattered across his face. He screamed, tried to flee, but his legs had turned to jelly and he could not move at all.

The two men remaining across from them had not expected their comrades to be killed in the blink of an eye. No matter how fierce, everyone fears death. The instant their companion was speared, they both hesitated.

They hesitated — Zhao Jin did not. He shook his spear and charged forward in great strides. The cart driver, Zhao Jin, and the two men were now hemmed in among the three wagons. There was almost no room to maneuver. Even if they tried to dodge, their movements would be obstructed.

A moment's hesitation was fatal. One man stepped back and bumped into the wagon behind him — the very obstacle he had likely set for Zhao Jin's group, now turned against him.

Zhao Jin's spear shot forth like lightning, piercing straight through the man's chest. The man howled in agony, one hand grabbing the spear shaft, the other raising his blade to hack down. Before he could connect, Zhao Jin twisted the spear. His innards were wrenched; the pain was excruciating. All strength drained from his body, and he too died.

The spear, caught in the grip, was slow to withdraw. The last man, with nowhere left to retreat, thought he saw an opening and charged forward, blade swinging. At that very moment, a figure flashed out from behind Zhao Jin. A whistling sound — the charging man's knife-arm was severed. He let out a heart-rending roar: "You—"

He got out only half a word before a long blade stabbed into his throat. Chen Sheng had arrived.

Zhao Jin had already pieced it together. This had been a killing trap from the very start. Li Shun had used Gao Village to lure him out of the city, then set an ambush along the road.

But a killing trap so painstakingly laid would not consist of just two wagons on the road and four assassins.

"Zhao Jin, what do we do?!" Chen Sheng roared in his ear. This was no time for deep analysis. Zhao Jin turned his head and shouted, "Everyone, watch out—"

He had yelled at the top of his lungs, yet the last few words came out faint. It was not that his voice had dropped — from the other side of the road, a sharp, piercing shriek suddenly rose.

The shriek of arrows tearing through the air. Zhao Jin threw himself to the ground on instinct. Chen Sheng moved almost at the exact same moment. The instant they hit the dirt, they heard several muffled thuds. Their cart driver had been struck by arrows and fallen, his face frozen in a mask of utter terror.

"Everyone down! Crawl toward the woods by the roadside!" Zhao Jin bellowed.

The shriek of arrows cutting through empty air paused briefly, then resumed. Zhao Jin could hear clanging and thudding above his head — arrowheads biting deep into the wagon boards.

Zhao Jin and Chen Sheng, weapons in hand, crawled toward the other side. As he crawled, Zhao Jin shouted at the top of his lungs, "Who's still there? Who's still there?!"

"Big Brother, I'm here!" "Big Brother..." Voices answered one after another. All the brothers who had come along were still there — but every voice was trembling.

Amid those answering calls were screams of agony. Zhao Jin and his companions had trained in martial arts for years and had weathered life-and-death bloodbaths. In a situation like this, their reactions were the fastest. Moreover, the first volley of arrows had been aimed primarily at Zhao Jin's side, so the others had not found it hard to escape. But the household guards lacked such quick reactions. When the arrows rained down, many of them still had not recovered from the shock of the slaughter moments before.

The household guards suffered heavy casualties under the arrow volley. Many were even killed in the second volley. Even soldiers of the Great Ming might go their whole lives without facing a volley of arrows, let alone these young men who had always trained inside the city. First stunned by the killing, they were then paralyzed with terror by the arrow rain. After the first casualties, they forgot to react entirely and only grew more panicked. By now, Dong Bingfeng and Sun Dalei had both tumbled clumsily from their horses and were scrambling on all fours toward the roadside.

"Get down! Get down! Find cover!" Zhao Jin's voice had gone hoarse from shouting. Those household guards who forgot to take cover and stood there dumbly became targets for the archers.

Zhao Jin crawled to the edge of the official road and, using the wagon as cover, crouched down to observe his surroundings. His companions, though battered and disheveled, had all made it to this side of the wagon. No one was injured. But of the twenty household guards who had come with them, not one was still standing — only men howling in agony on the ground.

The enemy's arrows had stopped. But what was even more terrifying was the large force now charging out of the wooded hills across the way. The forest was full of moving figures. At a rough glance, it was impossible to tell whether there were dozens or hundreds. But Zhao Jin finally realized: the enemy did not have that many bows — six or seven at most. In the chaos and panic, he had mistaken it for a rain of arrows.

That man's cut-off shout of "You—" had not been directed at Zhao Jin's group. He had been summoning the nearby ambushers!

"They have bows — we head for the woods! Keep your heads down, bend low, and run! Go!" Zhao Jin roared. The woods were about twenty paces from the roadside. Running bent over would not take long.

The trees on the hills and knolls flanking the road were sparse, but enough to keep archers from aiming at leisure or shooting at full speed. The household guards were still screaming. The blood pooling from the dead had not yet frozen and was already spreading. Wang Zhaojing, Dong Bingfeng, and Ji Xiang all looked somewhat dazed.

"Run, damn you! And hold onto your weapons!" Zhao Jin's throat was nearly torn raw. His roar finally snapped everyone to their senses. Fortunately, with the roadside and the wagons as cover, they were not thrown into total chaos, and they still had their weapons in hand.

Once his companions had all turned and sprinted for the roadside woods, Zhao Jin bent low, rose, and ran for his life.

To stay hidden, the ambushers on the other side had concealed themselves quite far away. They still had some distance to cover to close in. Perhaps fearing they might hit their own men, they had stopped shooting.

The ground on either side of the road looked flat, but the snow was loose powder, and the earth beneath was full of dips and hollows. Everyone ran with unsteady, plunging steps. Chen Sheng was stout and large, yet his movements were agile. Sun Dalei, however, was in serious trouble — his frame was too massive, and his movements far less nimble. Zhao Jin had been the last to run for the woods, but he quickly caught up.

"The marks are running for the woods!" Someone behind them was shouting. The ambushers had spotted their move.

Zhao Jin drew a step ahead of Sun Dalei. Sun Dalei's face was full of panic and desperate pleading. Zhao Jin took another step, then gritted his teeth, turned back, and grabbed Sun Dalei's arm with all his strength.

He was far from weak. With that pull, Sun Dalei's pace quickened a little. Only a few more steps to the woods — once inside, at least they would not have to worry about arrows.

Turning back to pull him, Zhao Jin saw several archers already running out of the woods on the far side. These men posed too great a threat. He could not stop himself from glancing back again and again. Worse, those twenty paces to the woods were on a slope, and the wagons could not shield much of it — they would make easy targets.

Six archers in total. They had now taken their positions, bows drawn and arrows nocked, aiming straight at Zhao Jin and Sun Dalei. The others charging down had slowed their pace to avoid being hit by stray arrows.

Zhao Jin's heart burned with urgency. He strained to drag Sun Dalei, but did not notice the tree stump hidden beneath the snow. His body lurched and he pitched forward. The spear flew from his hand — though it landed squarely inside the tree line.

The moment he fell, his other hand slipped from Sun Dalei's grasp. Zhao Jin's reactions were quick. After hitting the ground, he immediately rolled over and pushed himself up — just in time to see the six archers loose their arrows.

That instant stretched out unbearably slow, yet Zhao Jin knew the speed of an arrow. He knew he could not dodge. In that instant, his heart clenched, and an icy cold flooded his entire body. Was he going to die here?

Zhao Jin's mind went completely blank — until a shadow fell over him and he snapped back to his senses. Sun Dalei, who had almost reached the woods, had somehow turned back and now stood shielding him.

Several dull, heavy thuds rang out in quick succession. Sun Dalei's massive body shuddered with each impact, his face twisting in excruciating pain. Another arrow shrieked down and buried itself in the snow beside them.

"Got him! Got him!" Wild shouts came from behind Sun Dalei.

Zhao Jin's eyes nearly split with fury as he rose from the ground. Sun Dalei's face suddenly forced out a smile. Stammering, he said, "B-Big Brother... I'm... I'm n-not a... n-not..."