Chapter 424: Government Troops and the Greenwood Bandit King

While he was still hesitating, a man walked out from the camp ahead, cursing and grumbling that he had lost at dice and wouldn't be the first to have a woman. After only a few steps, he undid his trousers facing outward—and then saw Zhao Jin and the others, faintly lit by the scattered firelight.

"There's—" He only managed to get out a single word. Dong Bingfeng, without a moment's hesitation, loosed the arrow. It entered through the mouth and burst out the back of his skull!

"Follow me and charge!" Zhao Jin roared.

The group shouted in response, spreading out as they followed and charged toward the camp ahead. They fanned out as they advanced. Zhao Jin and a few companions charged at the very front, since the armor they wore offered the strongest protection. The rest fell into ranks behind them. The jianghu men from the Inner Guard seemed a bit disorganized—following their chief into the charge, they naturally felt they had to rush to the front to show their loyalty.

Only when they saw the household troops of the Zhao Camp all falling in behind in sequence did they realize something was wrong, and they all followed suit.

Only Ding Jun, who came from Ding Family Enclosure, charged desperately forward gripping his blade. But after only a few steps, someone yanked him back, and he never managed to break through to the very front.

The horses on the outer edge of the camp had already been startled into a frenzy, neighing and running wild. Inside the camp, there were also panicked shouts and angry curses. They could see people leaping up in alarm and confusion.

This group's camp did have tents, but they were all off to one side, scattered sparsely. Everyone else was gathered around the campfires. No one ever imagined that in this stretch of barren grass flats, someone would charge in to kill them! In fact, throughout their entire journey here, they hadn't even been aware that anyone else was around!

The men at the outermost edge did manage to grab their blades by instinct, but before they could even raise them, Zhao Jin's long spear pierced them through. Chen Sheng's long blade swung, and it too had already tasted blood.

The household troops following behind Zhao Jin and the others also began spreading out to both flanks, pressing forward as a battle line.

"Grab your weapons and fight them!" someone shouted at the top of his lungs.

This group of enemies was nothing like refugee mobs or bandit gangs. At the first clash, caught completely off guard, over a dozen of them fell. The rest immediately fled in all directions.

"Which brothers are you? We are the Feng Family guards. Stop now, and we can still face each other in the future!"

"The Yangzhou Feng Family is handling business here. Don't pretend you don't know what that means!"

Others also shouted out their identity. It was indeed the Feng Family's horse team. Even though they had just massacred a village, they didn't care in the slightest, because those villagers were just unregistered refugees who could never see the light of day.

All they knew was that in the Jiangbei region of South Zhili, the Feng Family name was a gilded signboard that worked everywhere. Anyone who didn't care had already tasted bitter suffering.

They shouted, but their hands didn't slow in the slightest. Yet these Feng Family horse team riders simply couldn't get close to the enemy, because Zhao Jin and his men had never stopped from the very start, constantly chasing people down and cutting them to pieces.

"Scatter, scatter!" someone shouted, desperate and furious.

Some of those at the very edge were killed; others were lucky enough to dodge. With no time left to resist, they could only flee desperately toward the inside. Their mad, chaotic dash even scattered their own comrades inside who wanted to stand and fight. Those who were scattered could only run as well. If they didn't run, there was no way to stop and fight back—it was a dead end. In the chaos of battle, with the enemy still maintaining their formation, any fight would be a few against many.

"Fall back! Everyone fall back!"

"Anyone who keeps running wild gets cut down on the spot! If we don't kill them, we'll all be dragged down with them!" someone shouted loudly.

The man shouting clearly commanded considerable authority. They could see the men inside stop hesitating and immediately scatter in all directions. A few who were running too fast were simply cut down where they stood.

"Halt!" "Halt!" Zhao Jin raised his long spear high and bellowed. The moment he moved, the companions beside him echoed the shout. Although the entire formation was somewhat disordered, it still came to a stop.

In the charge and pursuit, they had already slaughtered several dozen. Blood covered the ground. Twenty paces away, over a hundred men gripped their weapons and glared fiercely in their direction.

The man leading them was exceptionally tall and burly. In his hand was a pudao. He wore a suit of iron-leaf chainmail—chainmail with thin iron or bronze plates riveted on to protect vital areas. He wasn't the only one in armor; the dozen or so men clustered around this big fellow were all wearing iron armor as well.

The rest were no slouches either. In their hands were solid, practical weapons like pudaos and goose-quill sabers. Even though they had gathered in haste, they immediately formed up into front and rear ranks, with space between each man so they wouldn't hinder each other when the killing started.

The man leading the Feng Family horse team had two scars on his face and a full beard, but in the glow of the campfire, he didn't look vicious. On the contrary, his features were upright and honorable.

Once the initial chaos passed and the two sides stood facing off, the Feng Family horse team immediately regained their confidence. Although Zhao Jin's group looked well-equipped, they were, after all, fewer in number. Many against few always held the advantage. Having rolled on the edge of a blade for so many years, they naturally understood this logic.

"Form up!" Zhao Jin said in a low voice. Chen Sheng immediately raised his arm and made a few hand signals. Aside from the jianghu men, this unit was made up of old household troops from Zhao Camp. They had drilled for this before setting out. In a situation like this, the old household troops formed ranks at the front, the jianghu men were behind them, and the very front two rows were Zhao Jin and the others wearing steel armor.

In the night, the firelight didn't illuminate things clearly. All one could see was a group of people forming ranks behind Zhao Jin. At a rough glance, they actually looked flustered and chaotic.

The man leading the Feng Family horse team narrowed his eyes and swept his gaze over them, then said in a deep voice, "The Yangzhou Feng Family is handling business in this grass nest. We've already greeted everyone in the area. May I ask what background you heroes come from?"

"Who cares where they're from! Since they're so blind, let's just chop them up today and feed them to the wolves!" someone roared in anger. The Feng Family horse team immediately erupted in furious curses. After being suddenly attacked and having several dozen comrades dead or wounded on the ground, no one was going to let this go.

The leader simply raised his arm, and the crowd immediately fell silent. It was clear this big man commanded no small amount of authority.

"Gentlemen, the Grass-Turning Snakes are also good friends of ours. The Shuyang Battalion Commander and the Pizhou Defense Commander are both juniors before the Feng Family. With things having come to this, you won't meet a good end. Neither the officials nor the greenwood will let you off!" the big man said in a deep voice.

Zhao Jin had heard the name "Grass-Turning Snakes" before. They were the largest gang of grass-nest bandits in Huai'an Prefecture, vaguely holding the position of the dragon head. But this gang of grass-nest bandits had deep ties to the private salt trade and were, in fact, one of the biggest salt smugglers in Huai'an Prefecture—men secretly raised by the Feng Family.

In any major or minor affair among the grass-nest bandits, if someone from the Grass-Turning Snakes stepped forward, they could often arbitrate right from wrong, and everyone would accept it.

As for the Battalion Commander of Shuyang and the Defense Commander of Pizhou, those were officers and soldiers of the government troops—men that those who walked the wilds could never afford to offend. The moment this big man opened his mouth, he used government troops and a greenwood bandit king to intimidate them.

After saying this, the big man stared at Zhao Jin's side. But the few men at the very front of Zhao Jin's group had all fastened their face guards, making it impossible to see their expressions or reactions. The big man raised his voice slightly and said, "But in this pitch-black night, perhaps this fight was just a misunderstanding. Heroes, just leave now, and we won't pursue the matter!"

The moment the words left his mouth, an uproar broke out among the Feng Family horse team. With casualties this heavy, he was actually just letting them go?

Not only the Feng Family side—even Zhao Jin's side was surprised. Zhao Jin glanced back over his shoulder. The unit had more or less gathered together now, forming a square formation ten across and seven deep.

Beneath his face guard, Zhao Jin gave a cold laugh. He swung his long spear forward and bellowed, "Charge and kill!"

The moment these words were shouted, that big man seemed to realize something. He yelled, "Several bands of grass-nest bandits were bloodily massacred on the road. Was that your doing?"

No one answered. Once the order was given, this kind of formation charge was something Zhao Camp had long drilled to perfection. Those who weren't proficient were, in any case, in the last two rows and couldn't affect the overall situation. The moment the order was shouted, everyone immediately charged forward.

Seeing this scene, the Feng Family horse team grew even more enraged, shouting and rushing forward with their weapons. But the leading big man, staring at Zhao Jin's unit charging at him in perfect order, felt the corner of his eye twitch. Instead of advancing to meet them, he stepped backward step by step, shouting, "The Wolf Mountain Vice General and my family master are peers and friends. Anything can be negotiated!"

South Zhili did not have a Regional Commander. The post of Nanjing Defense Commissioner was held by a noble military official, but by convention, the Nanjing Defense Commissioner only governed the Nanjing area. All other regions were garrisoned by Assistant Regional Commanders. Only at the strategic choke points controlling the grain transport and the Yangtze River was a Vice Regional Commander appointed—this was the Wolf Mountain Vice Regional Commander. A Vice Regional Commander was customarily called a Vice General. He had no authority over the Assistant Regional Commanders, only a slightly higher status.

A higher status naturally made a difference. The Wolf Mountain Vice General could be considered the pinnacle for non-noble military men in South Zhili. Everyone had to give him face.

Zhao Jin could also figure out why the other side had shouted out this name. Grassland fierce bandits, mounted bandit gangs—such rabble would never have a method of charging and fighting like their own. One look at this kind of formation would immediately make anyone think of government troops.

The formation leveled their long spears and pudaos straight forward. The Feng Family riders and fighters charged up shouting, but the moment they reached the front, they found themselves helpless. When a few of their own men surged forward and clashed with this group of armored raiders, they would find one man facing several weapons. Block one, and another was already coming at him. With no other choice, if they didn't want to die, they could only retreat.

Zhao Jin's long spear thrust out and withdrew. One by one, the enemies before him fell. At the start, the Feng Family men had kept distance between each other, but once they were charged into, the formation became congested. If they tried to retreat, they were blocked by the men behind them. If they tried to charge, taking a single step forward meant being stabbed and wounded.

Caught off guard, amidst screams and chaos, Zhao Jin's small square formation paused only slightly at the start, then punched straight through the clustered Feng Family unit, splitting it completely in two.

But these Feng Family men were no ordinary rabble. After being pierced through by the sudden assault, they reacted, and some began thinking about attacking the flanks of this small square formation.

"Squads of ten, charge and kill on your own!" Zhao Jin shouted again.

The usually tedious and exhausting formation drills proved their worth at this moment. The moment the order was given, with Zhao Jin and his companions taking the lead, they swiftly split into five squads. The other dozen or so were the jianghu characters from the Inner Guard and Ding Jun. They didn't react for a moment, and then another order reached them: "Gather yourselves and follow behind the main force!"

The large formation splitting into small squads—this transformation likewise gave no one an opening to exploit. As the large formation became small squads, Zhao Jin didn't pause his movements. He turned and stabbed toward where the crowd was thickest.

Though the order to charge and kill independently had been given, the other small squads didn't choose different directions. Instead, they charged forward together with Zhao Jin, coordinating and supporting each other on the flanks.