Chapter 752: Courting Death

Everyone had lived through the day's battle and withdrawal themselves, so they understood the situation perfectly well. Discipline was discipline, but they couldn't help feeling uneasy inside.

"At this pace, if Shandong sends men to block us, we'll likely run into them by dawn tomorrow. Men and horses both hungry—that could mean trouble."

"No need to fear. We'll be hungry by tomorrow, sure, but not too hungry to fight. We've got four hundred armored riders here, and this part of Shandong is all county towns. Who could scrape together enough men overnight to stop us? Even in Xuzhou, they'd probably have to send Commandant Zhou himself!"

"True enough. He's the only one with a few hundred riders. But now he's got no horses left either. Hearing you say that, brother, my mind's a lot easier. You've got an unfamiliar face—are you from our camp, or from the Xuzhou area? What should I call you?"

"Surname's Ma. I just arrived."

They had launched the battle during the day, then left directly, marching through the night without stopping, and eaten all their provisions. Though they rested briefly several times along the way, the exhaustion of men and horses never truly eased, and their pace still slowed. After daybreak, Zhao Jin and the others revised their estimate: originally they'd planned to reach Gaoping Mountain one double-hour after sunrise; now it looked like it would be delayed by another double-hour.

By now they were about twenty li past Juye County town. They could see cooking smoke rising from the villages and stockades along the road, though compared to normal times it was sparse and scattered, eerily desolate.

On the march north from Xuzhou, they had traveled as stealthily as possible, but they couldn't guarantee no locals had spotted them along the way. Yet everyone who saw them had hurriedly fled as far as they could. A force of over four hundred riders counted as a major armed band no matter how you looked at it—seeing them and keeping your distance was the normal reaction. Today, however, was different. The people they spotted along the way didn't run; instead, they craned their necks and followed, watching.

And these people craning their necks to watch were no desperate refugees or disaster victims with nowhere to go. When the light cavalry scouting back and forth between the main column and the vanguard returned, these onlookers scattered in a flurry, only to gather again. Some could even be seen sprinting wildly toward the villages—clearly off to deliver word.

"Master Jin, from an earthen fort five li ahead on the west side of the official road, several hundred able-bodied men have poured out and are heading our way. There were also a dozen or so riders who tried to chase us, but after we shot one down, the rest all shrank back." In broad daylight, on such flat terrain, the movements of a large force could not escape the scouts' searching eyes.

Hearing this report, Zhao Jin laughed. The companions around him couldn't help laughing either. Ji Xiang spat on the ground and cursed with a grin, "That much silver as a bounty really does turn people's heads. They don't stop to think—they've got the guts to come, but they won't live to go back."

"Have the brothers don armor and prepare for battle," Zhao Jin ordered. To conserve the men's and horses' strength, they had stopped wearing their iron armor during the second half of the night's march.

"Is it worth it? Such a big show just to herd sheep? A waste of energy." Chen Sheng frowned.

Zhao Jin waved his hand and said with a smile, "Who says it's a waste of energy? Our breakfast is going to come from these very people."

The order was given, and the household troops immediately began helping each other put on their armor. Donning armor was cumbersome, but with everyone assisting one another according to an established routine, the efficiency was already very high.

Before long, they were fully armored. Zhao Jin, however, did not rush to order them to mount up. He simply led his horse forward on foot. Mu Shulan, who had recovered much of her energy, was very quiet now, just riding a horse wrapped in her clothes. Once battle began, she would be bundled into the center of the formation.

Quiet as she was, Mu Shulan was intensely curious about everything before her eyes. In Dongchang Prefecture, she had been involved with training as well—even the methods she used to train the children's camp had come from the fragmentary bits Zhao Jin had recounted. Yet Mu Shulan had never imagined that fighting men could be like this: calm and restrained, moving in good order, every command followed as law.

Mu Shulan also spotted many familiar faces in the ranks. Quite a few had taken part in the warehouse-yard martial contests back then. The games of children in those days—had they truly reached such a level now?

Five li was not far, and donning armor had taken time. By now they could already see the dark mass of the large force ahead. A few hundred men, if arrayed in the formation of the Zhao Camp, would look quite compact. But without any formation, they spread out over a truly vast area, looking rather intimidating.

"Mount up!" Zhao Jin said. Ji Xiang bellowed the order, and everyone swung into the saddle. From horseback, Zhao Jin gave Niu Jinbao a word of instruction: "When the fighting starts, you guard Miss Lan. No need to worry about me!"

Niu Jinbao gave a muffled grunt of assent. Zhao Jin raised his long spear and swung it forward in a small arc. The cavalry column began to move, but without any charging momentum—just a slow trot forward.

At this time of year, there wasn't even much dry grass in the wilds. The mounts had no way to replenish themselves and were currently in a state of hunger. If they launched into a charge right from the start, the risk of the horses dropping dead was very high.

But against a rabble like the one before them, there was really no need to spur the horses into a charge anyway.

That dark mass of a force across the way was exceedingly arrogant. The dozen or so riders at the front hadn't dared to pursue earlier, afraid of being shot down by a cold arrow. But now it was different. They felt the distance was very close, and they wouldn't be separated from the infantry behind them, so their courage swelled.

Those who could ride horses were mostly the standout figures of the earthen stockades and fortified villages—either sons of stockade leaders, young men of wealthy households, or even the stockade leaders themselves and their trusted men. Right now was precisely the moment to show off their martial valor.

"This is the Shi family of Juye, the Rolling-Earth Tiger! Ahead—are you the great bandit Zhao who brought calamity to Yuncheng..." There was a proper way to do these things. When men of the jianghu gathered in force to fight, you announced your name and declared the other side's crimes—that was only proper, to show you weren't stirring up trouble without cause, that you had righteous justification for doing this.

The man at the front on horseback had ample breath, but his shout cut off halfway, as if someone had suddenly stuffed his mouth shut. Zhao Jin's side remained silent, but they saw those dozen or so riders who had run up to the front each frantically rein in their mounts, as if they had all slammed into an invisible wall before them. Some were even so flustered, pulling up too abruptly, that they tumbled straight off their horses, then scrambled back up and hauled themselves into the saddle.

No one paid any more attention to Zhao Jin and his men. They all wheeled their mounts around and fled back the way they had come. This behavior actually made Zhao Jin and the others pause for a moment, but they did not halt their forward momentum.

Soon they made contact with that dark mass of infantry. This mob had also been baring fangs and brandishing claws, their battle cries shaking the heavens. But the moment they saw Zhao Jin's cavalry column approaching, they fell utterly silent. The ones at the front stopped in their tracks; those behind, not yet realizing what was happening, just pressed forward in a crush, step by step, until finally the whole mass came to a complete halt.

Someone, no one knew who, yelled "Mama!"—threw down whatever was in his hands, turned, and fled. That one cry broke the spell. Shrieks and screams rang out one after another, and in an instant that dark, imposing mass of several hundred men scattered in a complete rout. The fields on both sides of the road were filled with fleeing figures.

"They've even got wooden clubs and bamboo poles..." Ji Xiang, beside Zhao Jin, remarked.

This "great force" of four or five hundred men was utterly pathetic. The hundred or so at the front had iron implements in their hands, but of those iron implements, perhaps thirty or forty were actual weapons—the rest were farming tools. As for those behind, all they held were wooden clubs and bamboo poles; if they'd thought to sharpen the tips, that was already something.

Moreover, while the front ranks were at least able-bodied men, the ones at the back included half-grown boys of thirteen or fourteen—there purely to swell the numbers and bolster courage.

A rabble like this had been turned dizzy by the bounty of tens of thousands of taels of silver and wanted to come grab a windfall. But the moment they saw the imposing might of the Zhao Camp's cavalry troop, they knew at once they were no match. Those long spears, those great blades, those bows and arrows—those fully equipped warhorses with their complete tack—and that iron armor covering every man. These were things they had never even heard of, never laid eyes on. Even setting all that aside, just seeing that the great Xuzhou bandit was actually a cavalry force of four or five hundred men—that was not something their tiny stockade could contend with. Faced with such a colossal threat, what else could they do but turn and run?

"Don't stop! Pursue!" Zhao Jin gave the order again. The entire column continued forward at that unhurried trot.

Men cannot outrun horses. Those who truly could run no further simply dropped to their knees on the ground, kowtowing and begging for mercy. The Zhao Camp's cavalry column paid them no heed whatsoever. The riders would even guide their mounts to avoid obstacles in their path, lest they stumble.

They pursued all the way, and before long arrived before that earthen fort. Shandong was not a peaceful land; bandits swarmed everywhere. Local villages and stockades all had to train militias and fortify their settlements for self-defense, turning the places they lived into crude fortresses. Of course, these village militiamen were no virtuous souls either. If a lone merchant passed through, they would just as readily turn into bandits and outlaws who murdered for profit.

This stockade was built in proper, standard fashion. The encircling earthen wall was a full two men high, with a moat outside. Entry and exit were only possible via two drawbridges. At this moment, the drawbridges had been raised, yet not a single defender could be seen on the earthen wall. Most likely, every bit of the stockade's strength had been sent out and was now fleeing all over the hills and fields outside.

"Open the stockade gate and your lives will be spared!" Several household troops with loud voices stepped forward and bellowed.

Inside and outside the earthen fort, all was silence, as if not a soul remained. Yet those dozen or so riders from earlier should have returned by now.

Zhao Jin shook his head with a smile and waved his hand. "Archers, provide cover! Send men over to open the gate!"

A crude earthen wall and a ditch like this—all it took was sending men over to climb up and lower the drawbridge. What trouble could that be? The moment the order was given, a dozen or so nimble men shed their armor, took up short weapons, and dropped into the moat. The moat itself was simple enough; the wooden and bamboo spikes inside were sparse and scattered—you could just pull them out directly. Very quickly, they were scaling the other side.

Men formed a human bridge, boosting their comrades upward, and soon they were touching the edge of the earthen wall. One more heave and they would be over. But just at that moment, figures did appear on the wall—men holding blades, looking as if they meant to chop at the hands reaching up.

Yet the instant those heads showed themselves—"Swoosh, swoosh!"—several sharp whistles tore through the air. Three feathered arrows nailed into the man's upper body. With a shriek, he toppled straight backward and fell inside. A few scattered cries of alarm could be heard from within.

Then, below, they could see more heads poking up at the battlements, but they vanished the moment they appeared. With several dozen bows drawn and aimed below, you'd need a lot more nerve not to duck back down.

They watched as the dozen or so men clambered over the wall. The drawbridge was merely secured by ropes—it was just that cutting them from the inside wasn't easy. Once up there, a few quick chops and the drawbridge came thudding down.

Still on scheduled posting, away from home, just one update today.