Chapter 462: Bravery Bought with Silver

"Charge in!!!" The moment they imagined running wild inside, every man's eyes went red. Howling and bellowing, they surged forward again.

The stockade wall was just over a man's height. Ladders and planks went up, and another mad scramble ensued. So far, no one had shown their head atop the wall. In an ordinary turf war between outlaws, how could there ever be a volley of nearly a hundred bows — and military bows fired upward, at that? Even if they'd had boiling water on the wall, it would be cold by now. Charge up and kill!

The ones at the very front were all ferocious, reckless men. Axes and blades in hand, they clambered up the ladders and planks, just about to vault over the wall, just about to cut loose and have their fun — when a row of men suddenly sprang up on the wall. They held sharpened bamboo poles, the scorch marks on them showing they'd been fire-hardened, and they stabbed straight at the men scaling the wall.

Every ladder and plank was met by three bamboo spears. Anyone could see the terror on the faces of the men holding those spears — their bodies were trembling. Yet each bamboo spear was as thick as a child's fist and about ten feet long. These bold fighters at the front, for convenience, carried only axes and blades; the longest among them were pudao, just five or six feet in length — nowhere near long enough to reach their opponents.

Some men were quick and skilled. With a furious shout, one hacked a bamboo spear clean in half with his steel blade, then swung left and right to parry the other two aside. He took a single step forward — and the spear he'd cut in half stabbed at him again. Even cut, it still had a sharp slant; it could still thrust and kill.

This man was not only skilled, he also wore a leather jacket. As the bamboo spear thrust at him, he twisted aside just in time. The spear tore a gash in his leather jacket, and he stumbled on the plank. Before he could steady himself, the two spears he'd knocked away came stabbing at him again.

The defenders had no real technique — they were just poking and jabbing wildly at whoever was on the plank. But this time, there was no dodging. His blade knocked one spear aside, but the other stabbed into his thigh. It didn't go too deep — barely two inches or so — but he could no longer keep his footing and tumbled straight off.

The fall wouldn't kill him — it was only a bit over a man's height — and below, the bodies of his scalded and burned comrades cushioned the landing. But that wound in his thigh was two inches deep, a hole you couldn't plug with a few fingers. Blood came gushing out.

He had at least parried twice. Many others were simply skewered straight through by the bamboo spears and plunged down. Seeing the scene ahead, the men behind no longer dared to keep climbing. They jumped straight down and fled backward. In an instant, not a single man was left on the ladders or planks.

Some who'd been holding the planks and ladders didn't have time to run. The men on the stockade wall jabbed wildly at them with their bamboo spears — one side had the high ground, the other was caught off guard. Some dodged away and escaped; the unlucky ones got speared clean through the neck.

The casualties this time weren't as gruesome as the boiling-water deluge, but it thoroughly crushed the spirit of this band of outlaws and bandits. This time, the stockade was putting up a real, blade-for-blade defense. So the defenders hadn't been too beaten to show their heads — they'd been lying low, waiting to strike.

Some men turned and cursed at the archers: "We were out front risking our lives — why the hell didn't you shoot those bastards dead?!"

The archers only watched them coldly. Only now did the men who'd been goaded into charging begin to taste the truth. But looking at the main force, which still hadn't moved, they could only slink around and trudge back, shamefaced.

After a bout of cursing, this mob of outlaws fell silent. Though no signal had been given, their intent to leave was unmistakable. There was no point in being cannon fodder for others. Yet they also understood: in this situation, leaving wasn't as simple as just walking away.

The archers withdrew in unison. What chilled the hearts of the various leaders was that their own archers were also retreating with the main archer force. The thin-skinned ones managed a bitter smile; the thick-skinned ones simply turned their heads away. No one knew exactly what had just happened.

The group walked slower and slower, waiting for someone to step forward and propose something. Just then, over a hundred riders from the main force came heading their way.

"Don't tell me they're going to drive us back!" someone cried out in alarm.

"Damn it all — these rich households are never reliable. They use us like dogs, and now we're the ones in trouble!"

"Fight! Fight them to the death!!!"

"You think you can win? Never mind the Feng family's private soldiers — that other bunch, you can't guess where they're from. Heaven knows which family..."

By then, the hundred-odd riders had arrived right in front of them. The group was so frightened they stumbled backward several steps. They weren't worried about the stockade a few dozen paces behind them — they figured those men could only defend the stockade.

Facing the grim, imposing cavalry formation, the outlaws and bandits were already thinking of running. Some were even considering kneeling and begging for mercy. Though they numbered in the hundreds, they weren't one united band, and they'd just been beaten. Infantry against cavalry — how could they possibly win? Nine chances out of ten, they were about to be herded forward as cannon fodder.

But in this situation, no one dared even curse. The cavalry halted. The foremost riders flung the bundles in their hands to the ground, making the outlaws — who moments ago had been so fierce — shrink back violently in fright.

The bundles weren't tied tight. They hit the ground and spilled open. The men who'd just retreated a step all craned forward to look. Inside those bundles was silver.

In their plundering trade, they mostly seized goods and valuables; ready silver was rare. Yet here before them lay gleaming white silver ingots — several hundred taels, close to a thousand, by the look of it.

"You've all worked hard. Whoever's band has dead or wounded, take a bit more. Those with the most dead and wounded were surely the ones at the front. Master Li says this: the Feng family does not shortchange those who put in the effort. Rest assured, everyone!"

Why had they come along? Why had they fought and risked their lives? Wasn't it all for this gleaming white silver? And now the Feng family had delivered!

At the sight of the silver, all resentment vanished like smoke. Fortunately, the leaders of each band were still present; the underlings didn't just rush in and grab. The leaders, elated, stepped forward and divided the silver among themselves.

"All leaders, return to your original positions and await orders. Master Li says this: licking blood off a blade and selling your life for money — that's the way of the world. So long as you dare to charge, there will be silver!"

With those few words, morale soared again. The earlier suspicions evaporated. Everyone, consciously or not, ignored the contemptuous looks in the cavalry riders' eyes. With gleaming white silver right here, what did anything else matter? The generous ones promptly took out part of the silver and distributed it; the stingy ones just clutched their silver and kept quiet.

Yet the morale that had been on the verge of collapse now rallied. Even those who hadn't received any silver now had hope — at the very least, they knew there was silver to be had, and more than usual at that. Following their respective leaders, the men returned to their original positions.

"In our camp, when we mobilize for battle, each man only gets one tael of silver. If he loses his life, his family's consolation payment is no more than three taels. Your Feng family is truly generous — casually tossing out nearly a thousand taels just like that." Li He, watching from the front of the main force, remarked with a laugh.

Li Dajin gave a couple of dry chuckles and said, "The government army has the law of the realm and military code. On my side, if I want men to sell their lives, I have to throw silver at them. The Feng family doesn't care about this!"

"Nowadays, even in our camp, if you want men to fight to the death, you've got to throw silver at them too. Otherwise, no one will put in the effort," Li He said with a chuckle.

The smile faded from Li Dajin's face. Solemnly, he said, "This stockade won't be easy to take. They should still have tricks they haven't used yet. When we arrived yesterday, the men defending the wall in the stockade were all carrying iron weapons and looked fairly skilled. But today, all we've seen is boiling water and bamboo spears."

"Just now, one of their archers even showed his head, but afterward, they've stayed completely still. The stockade should have at least a dozen bows inside," Battalion Commander Li He added in a low voice.

After saying this, Li He spat and cursed, "This damn place is practically a small fort. Without spilling blood and taking casualties, I'm afraid we won't take it."

"Then we still have to attack. This stockade is Zhao Jin's nail. Pull it out, and we can drive Zhao Jin away. Leave it in, and the Feng family can't move freely," Li Dajin said coldly.

Li He rubbed the stubble on his chin and said grimly, "What if we just besiege it? Cut off their water. If they don't have enough grain, they'll be finished on their own."

"How do we besiege it? We didn't cut off their water yesterday. With a veteran in charge inside, they've surely stockpiled enough water. And they're not short on grain either — cart after cart has been hauling it in from Yutou Town. It's long been stuffed full."

"What exactly is that scoundrel Zhao Jin trying to do? Play house? Put on a show? How much silver can withstand this kind of squandering!" Li He cursed indignantly.

Li Dajin didn't take up that thread. He simply said in a low voice, "You're reluctant to grind through and take casualties, aren't you?"

Li He bared his teeth, not bothering to deny it. Staring at the stockade ahead, he said, "This battalion is something our commander values. If we lose too many men, I won't be able to go back and give an account."

"Five taels per man. That's yours. The Feng family will not shortchange your commander. Whatever expenses there are, the Feng family will cover them all!" Li Dajin said decisively.

"Afterwards, there's compensation, burial costs, and smoothing things over. We might even have to recruit new able-bodied men. How much silver will all that take? Can you really make that call?"

"I can! When it comes to spending silver, nothing is a problem for the Feng family!" Li Dajin said with absolute certainty.

After saying this, Li Dajin smiled and spoke again, this time lowering his voice considerably: "As for the silver given to those 'heroes' — once they're all dead, that silver will be yours too."

Li He's eyes lit up. He immediately clapped his hands together and said, "Then let's do it!"

Li Dajin smiled and pointed at the front of the stockade. "There are several thousand able-bodied men inside that stockade. If they just huddle in there and refuse to come out, we have no choice but a direct assault. My plan is simple. Haven't we already filled in the trench over there? Push carts, haul earth over, and build up a ramp. Then we pile men in. Forget about those 'heroes' — the men under the two of us won't be any worse than the ones inside!"

The stockade wall was just over a man's height, and the trench in front of it had already been filled in. Hauling more earth to pile up and create a ramp wouldn't be difficult. But what followed would be a bloody, blade-to-blade fight. This side would send men in a direct assault; both sides would battle in blood on that ramp. The outcome seemed beyond doubt, but the cost would certainly not be small. Yet it was indeed the most reliable method.

Li He's expression remained grim. He suddenly asked, "How many days can our grain supplies last?"

"What we have on hand can last three days. If it's not enough, Yutou Town can quickly send more — that's not a worry. But the reason we need a quick, decisive battle isn't the grain. It's the fear of drawing in reinforcements. Even if we plan to fight the reinforcements, we still need to pull out this stockade first and then wait. Otherwise, we'll end up caught between them, attacked from both inside and out — and that would be dangerous!" Li Dajin said.