Chapter 191: Snow and Blood

After retreating five steps, Zhao Jin suddenly shouted "Run!", turned his head, and sprinted down the slope. His companions, long accustomed to obeying on instinct, followed without the slightest pause.

The big men up on the slope, however, had been on high alert the whole time. That shout startled them badly, and they all halted to defend, never expecting that Zhao Jin and the others were already running and had opened up a gap.

"After them!" The prey they had thought was easily caught was proving this troublesome. Zhao Jin's group attacking on a whim and leaving just as abruptly was taken as pure provocation. The ambushers roared in fury and gave chase.

The distance hadn't been great to begin with, and the sudden dash only opened it up by less than ten paces. The pursuers quickly closed in. At that moment, Zhao Jin and Chen Sheng suddenly turned around and charged back to meet them.

When chasing, everyone runs flat out. No one expected the other side to turn back. Before they could react, spear tips and blades were already at their faces. The two who had been running at the very front were dead.

The ambushers' pursuit halted. Zhao Jin and Chen Sheng turned and ran again. This time the pursuers were half a beat slow. Roaring, they gave chase once more. They had just taken two steps, and the others were still running, when Wang Zhaojing suddenly spun around. He stood his ground, leveled his longsword straight ahead, and glided forward to meet them.

The man directly opposite him was already on guard. Seeing Wang Zhaojing charging with his sword, he swung his podao around and rushed forward to meet him. A podao was longer than a standard sword; he held the advantage no matter what.

Just as the two were about to clash, Wang Zhaojing abruptly changed direction. The man facing him swung his podao sideways, ready to strike. As Wang Zhaojing sidestepped, he had already bent low. Instead of thrusting, he dragged his longsword twice across the enemy's leg. The blade was razor-sharp; those two strokes sliced wounds into the man's leg. The man cried out in pain and instinctively dodged to the side, but that exposed his ribs. Wang Zhaojing thrust the sword with both hands, driving it straight in. It pierced through the gaps between the ribs and into the body. Another one dead.

This entanglement cost him time. By the time Wang Zhaojing pulled his sword free, three men had already surrounded him, and Zhao Jin's group had run more than ten paces away.

Wang Zhaojing held his sword horizontally before him. With his free hand, he touched his swollen cheek, smiled, and assumed an opening stance.

The ambushers were no longer careless now. Every one of them was on high alert, as if facing a formidable foe. The men surrounding Wang Zhaojing grew from three to five. No one dared act rashly or advance recklessly; they slowly closed in.

Wang Zhaojing's defense was tight, but with enemies on all sides, there was always a blind spot he couldn't cover. One man spotted an opening and swung his blade down at Wang Zhaojing's back. Wang Zhaojing was just about to turn and parry when the enemies in front of him also struck. He could handle the front but not the back. Zhao Jin and the others had already turned around, but in that frantic moment, how could they possibly reach him in time?

At this critical, hair-trigger moment, a sharp whistle split the air. Everyone knew that sound — an arrow tearing through the sky. The men besieging Wang Zhaojing all paused instinctively. They assumed the arrow was aimed at Wang Zhaojing. They thought victory was in hand and there was no need to take risks. Wang Zhaojing, however, was resigned to death. The moment they paused, he lunged straight at the man in front of him. The blade sliced across the throat, and blood gushed out wildly.

The men who had paused only realized what was happening then. But before the man behind him could even move, the speeding arrow pierced through his throat.

Only then did the ambushers attacking Wang Zhaojing understand. The arrow had come from a completely different direction. These half-grown kids actually had an archer, and one who could shoot this accurately? Everyone instinctively dodged to the side. Wang Zhaojing, heedless of everything, threw himself forward, twisting his body into the charge, and ran another man through with his longsword.

As the blade pierced him, the man roared and swung his blade. Wang Zhaojing twisted his wrist. The man's body convulsed and immediately went limp, but with the last shred of his strength, he grabbed at him.

His hand touched Wang Zhaojing's body and then fell away, but that brief pause bought his comrades time. A man beside Wang Zhaojing bellowed and raised his axe to strike. It was too late to dodge. But before the axe could fall, a long spear thrust forward with terrifying speed and pierced straight through his neck.

"You scholars and your pride. He slapped you once; you didn't have to fight to the death to prove yourself!" Zhao Jin cursed, spear in hand, as he moved to stand back-to-back with Wang Zhaojing.

Chen Sheng's clothes were covered in blood. The man he faced was tall and immensely strong. Their long blade and podao clashed in a contest of strength. Even with Chen Sheng's power, he couldn't gain the upper hand. Chen Sheng actually let go. His long blade clattered to the ground, and his opponent's swing missed its mark. Chen Sheng seized the moment to close in, drew his short knife, and stabbed down viciously. He twisted it around inside the man's gut. Another one dead.

By the time he finished, Chen Sheng's chest was nearly soaked through and dyed red with blood — but it was all other people's blood. The ambushers, seeing he held only a two-foot short knife, immediately thought they could take advantage and rushed him. They never expected that just as one man charged forward with a battle cry, another arrow came flying and nailed him right in the temple. The others cried out in alarm, and the encirclement widened a little more.

"These brats have an archer! He's on the slope across from us!" Shouts of alarm and furious curses erupted all at once.

Chen Sheng stepped forward, picked up his long blade, and walked over to Zhao Jin and Wang Zhaojing. The three of them stood back-to-back in a triangle formation. Although the ambushers had them surrounded, they didn't dare close in, because the cold arrow from Zhao Jin's side was too accurate. No one knew if they'd be the unlucky one next.

"I'm suddenly thinking, even if I never pass the provincial exams, a life spent as brothers with you all would still be worth it," Wang Zhaojing said with a chuckle. But because his cheek was still swollen, his words came out slurred.

Chen Sheng gave a scoff. Gripping his blade in both hands, he assumed an opening stance and cursed with a laugh, "What the hell kind of nonsense is that? The few of us are still alive! Why are you spouting such defeatist crap!"

Wang Zhaojing just kept laughing there. Zhao Jin swept his gaze around and said coldly, "Counting the dead and the living, there are about a hundred of them. I wonder who's pulling the strings behind this, to invest this much capital."

"That distillery of ours is a gold mine. It's worth going this far!" Chen Sheng said.

"We thought we were being careful. Never imagined we were still careless. And it got Dalei killed." Zhao Jin's voice turned low and hoarse. Then, gritting his teeth, he said, "We slaughter every last one of these bastards to avenge Dalei!"

Chen Sheng and Wang Zhaojing both nodded silently. Chen Sheng sniffed, as if having trouble breathing. The chaotic scene from moments ago had now fallen into a silent standoff. The ambushers were all spread out, leaning against tree trunks. Zhao Jin and his two companions also leaned against a dead tree, equally not daring to let their guard down.

Dong Bingfeng was shooting from the high ground on the opposite slope. Over here, as long as anyone left the cover of the tree trunks and stepped into a slightly open area, they risked being shot. The ambushers' own archers, however, were hidden by the forest and afraid of hitting their own men, so they hadn't dared to shoot.

But everyone knew this brief calm wouldn't last. After all, the ambushers had six archers, while Zhao Jin's side had only one.

"Charge out there! Find that damn archer, quick!" Curses rang out from the other side.

"Why don't you Grass Den men go out? The archers are from our Mengshan Tigers..."

"Keep your voices down! You're spilling all our damn secrets."

"Who gives a damn? You think these little brats are walking out of here alive?"

The conversation from the other side was completely unrestrained. "Grass Den" and "Mengshan Tigers" — Zhao Jin had heard of these names before. They were bandit gangs from Huai'an Prefecture and Shandong. He never imagined they'd come here today to ambush and kill him.

The ambushers kept shifting positions, moving from one tree to another, but the encirclement was tightening. Zhao Jin and his two companions, on the other hand, slowed their breathing. After that initial burst of frantic, desperate fighting, they could now regulate their state and face the battle.

"Where did Xiaoyong and Daxiang go?" Wang Zhaojing asked. Even if anyone had noticed earlier, there had been no time to ask. A single moment of distraction in this melee meant death.

Zhao Jin probed forward with his spear. An enemy trying to sneak closer hastily retreated. Zhao Jin scanned the area. He could now clearly see the ambushers' archers appearing at the top of the slope.

The distance wasn't far, and the trees were sparse. Zhao Jin could see them clearly. The six archers were crouching low, bows half-drawn, nervously peering in every direction. But their target wasn't Zhao Jin and the other two — it was Dong Bingfeng, hidden somewhere in the shadows.

"Where is Bingfeng hiding that they still haven't found him?" Wang Zhaojing asked with a smile, trying to lighten the mood.

"... He's probably crouched up in a tree..." Chen Sheng, usually so taciturn, actually answered. That showed he wasn't as calm as he appeared.

Before Chen Sheng could finish, Zhao Jin cut him off. Staring in the direction of the archers, Zhao Jin said, "If we can kill those six archers, our odds improve a lot. Are you willing to charge over there with me?"

"The hell are you asking if we're willing for? You give the orders!" Chen Sheng cursed.

Zhao Jin chuckled. He shook his spear and charged toward the archers at the top of the slope. Wang Zhaojing was on his left, Chen Sheng on his right.

The men up on the slope had assumed Zhao Jin would run downhill. Even if they broke through, running from high ground to low ground was faster. They never expected him to charge upward.

These men were fierce and tough. They only retreated a single step before roaring and raising their blades to meet him. The man directly in front of Zhao Jin swung his blade down in a massive, wide-open strike, his chest and stomach completely exposed. But this man wasn't being reckless; his comrades were already closing in from both flanks. Zhao Jin's sides were threatened. There was no way he could complete a full thrusting motion.

But the man was wrong. Zhao Jin completely ignored the enemies charging from both sides. He focused only on what was in front of him, as if the man before him was the only enemy in the entire forest.

The spear thrust in and pulled out, the corpse simply flung aside. In his dying moment, the impaled man's eyes were wide open, his face full of utter disbelief. He hadn't expected Zhao Jin to be this fast and this ruthless. Even more, he hadn't expected Zhao Jin to completely ignore the enemies on his flanks.

Because Zhao Jin trusted his companions. He trusted that his comrades wouldn't abandon him, and trusted even more in their strength. Wang Zhaojing's narrow-edged longsword never even clashed with the enemy's weapon. His arm twisted and changed direction, stabbing directly into the enemy's left ribs. He pulled the sword out and slashed backhand, directly severing another enemy's wrist. On Chen Sheng's side, it was a direct clash of force. His first strike directly cleaved the opponent's goose-quill saber in two, along with splitting open his chest. He retracted the blade and swung horizontally, chopping right into a second enemy's neck. Blood sprayed all over the faces of Zhao Jin and the other two.

"These targets are this damn tough!" someone shouted.

"... This isn't any common jianghu style..." "... Their weapons are all top-grade goods..." Curses and shouts continued from the other side, but Zhao Jin and his group had already advanced seven steps uphill. Seeing the gruesome fate of their comrades ahead, the ambushers behind couldn't help but shy away.

"All you fellows, old and young, these few brats have a bounty of eight thousand taels on their heads! Kill them, and you can live it up for years! Don't let them get away..." Someone shouted at the top of his lungs.