Chapter 758: All Parties Come to Meet

The dust cloud on the road behind them grew thicker and thicker, and the pursuers multiplied. Even without so many horses, the Zhao Battalion was already heavily burdened with armor, weapons, and supplies; running would likely have been even slower. But the pursuers behind them charged forward recklessly without restraint, and the distance between the two sides shrank steadily. Gradually, the Zhao Battalion's rear guard could already see the pursuers' vanguard.

To the pursuers, every single person ahead was worth one hundred taels of silver, and there were even heads worth ten thousand taels. Catching them meant wealth and riches, and for that, they were willing to gamble anything. Some chased along the official road, while those behind who could not squeeze forward simply spurred their horses into the fields, trying to circle around and cut them off. More and more riders surged into the fields, and the pursuers' formation gradually spread out behind the Zhao Battalion's main force, as if trying to envelop them.

All of Zhao Jin's archers had already moved to the rear guard, advancing with the main force. But the moment the pursuers came within bowshot, they would immediately turn, draw, and loose. Horseback archery was jolting and accuracy was hardly a concern, but the pursuers were numerous and packed tightly together. A single arrow lobbed over, even if it did not wound anyone, would still cause chaos. Some who could not dodge in time would tumble straight from their mounts. At that moment, whether comrade or foe, no one would swerve to help; they simply rode their horses right over them, trampling them to certain death.

Had there been only one group of pursuers, the sporadic archery would have soon slowed them down. But with so many in hot pursuit nipping at their heels, the slight casualties and bloodshed only inflamed their savagery. They whipped their horses madly forward, and some even strung their bows on horseback, not caring whether they could hit the men ahead. As long as the arrows flew over, it was bound to cause chaos. They drew closer and closer, and some even seized the confusion to cut the ropes tethering the horses, snatching the Zhao Battalion's unburdened packhorses. Though only two men succeeded, it spurred the others to roar with excitement, each one straining forward with all his might.

The sun was nearing its zenith. The Zhao Battalion's rest the previous night had been brief, and they had been pressing forward without pause since yesterday. Both men and horses were utterly exhausted. Moreover, the presence of a large pursuing force behind them only heightened their tension and anxiety. Under these compounding pressures, their fatigue and agitation intensified. The rear-guard archers turned in the saddle to shoot with increasing frequency, and many arrows flew wide, drawing roaring laughter from the pursuers.

Yet it was precisely because they had kept moving forward without stopping that the Zhao Battalion had traveled far enough south. As they galloped on, both the pursuers and the Zhao Battalion's rear guard saw someone ahead raise a long spear. It was not the arm strength required to wave the spear one-handed that struck them as odd, but the gesture itself—the long spear was swinging broadly left and right.

Upon seeing this signal, the Zhao Battalion troops in the rear began to split apart, galloping away to the left and right flanks. The sight immediately overjoyed the pursuers. The goal of such a pursuit was precisely to scatter a cohesive formation; once they were isolated, they could be surrounded and slaughtered. The Zhao Battalion's main force was large, and though it was not fast, chasing and besieging it was still troublesome. Now, driven to panic and impatience by the chase, they were scattering to flee for their lives. This was bounty delivered on a platter—each and every one of these heads was worth one hundred taels!

To their surprise, the rear guard's split did not result in a rout. Instead, they fanned out to the left and right, while the Zhao Battalion's main force came to a dead halt. All they could see in the dust cloud of the official road was that long spear standing still and upright.

The Zhao Battalion's mounted troops executed an unpracticed and unpolished formation change. The rear guard became the vanguard, and the elongated column on the official road slowly transformed into a horizontal line. It looked exactly as if they intended to meet the enemy here, midway along the road. The pursuers behind were overjoyed. They had stopped—no more chasing needed. Had they been driven to desperation and decided to fight it out? Though a melee would mean casualties and death, everyone here was risking their lives for wealth and glory. Who was afraid to die?

The pursuers did not stop. A formation change was a moment of vulnerability and chaos; if they could seize the chance to charge straight in, they might cause a total collapse. Then it would be a slaughter, reaping those hundred-tael heads with abandon. Yet some began to sense something was wrong. By all logic, as Zhao Jin's main force slowed to change formation, the dust they kicked up should have lessened. Why was it growing thicker instead? A few sharp-eared men also noticed that the sound of hoofbeats had not diminished at all—the thunderous rumble was actually growing louder.

The pursuers who realized something was amiss finally slowed their pace. But as those in front slowed, those behind still pressed urgently forward, jamming together in a tangled mess. Yet by now, no one was eager to rush ahead any longer, for they saw that Zhao Jin's main force had halted, but the dust cloud behind Zhao Jin's main force still towered into the sky, and the thunder of hoofbeats from that direction still rumbled on.

"Master Jin, Jiang Mutou leads the sons of the Jiang family here!"

"Master Jin, Cheng Daqi leads the entire Cheng household here!"

"Master Jin, three hundred riders under the Xuzhou Regional Commander have come to reinforce!"

"Master Jin, the sons of the Xuzhou Garrison have come to reinforce!"

"Master Jin, the Pizhou Garrison and the Pizhou Defense Commander lead their troops here to reinforce!"

"Master Jin..."

Dozens, then hundreds—one mounted troop after another appeared around Zhao Jin's main force. As each troop arrived, its leader galloped swiftly before Zhao Jin's horse to pay respects and announce their name. Watching these mounted troops fan out in all directions with Zhao Jin's main force at the center, the pursuers were struck with terror.

They could not hear the names being announced in salute over there, but they could see one mounted troop after another appearing, more and more men. They had dared to pursue all this way precisely because their assembled numbers far exceeded Zhao Jin's four hundred riders; their courage had come from superior numbers. The pursuers included not only the various factions from Yanzhou Prefecture who had just arrived, but also the scattered remnants of the groups Zhao Jin had routed. A motley assembly, they had been ferociously imposing—but now, only terror and trembling remained. Their notion of winning through numbers had long since vanished. All they could think was that the people of Xuzhou were far too bold, daring to enter Shandong territory fully armed like this. Did they not care about the rules of the jianghu at all? Were they not afraid the authorities would investigate them for rebellion?

But they had already chased this far, the distance was short, and with everyone jammed together front and back, even retreating was temporarily impossible. What to do? The various factions were, after all, not a unified force, and for a moment, all were gripped by panic.

Zhao Jin lifted his visor. Dust filled the sky, mixing with the sweat on his face into a sticky, uncomfortable mess. But by now, the overall situation was settled. This trip to Shandong had been a hurried departure and an even more hurried return, but now everything was finally resolved. Zhao Jin glanced at Mu Shulan not far away. The girl had already pulled up her hood and sat quietly on her horse. No one would pay attention to such a short-statured "household servant."

Many of those who rode up to announce their names and pay respects were older than Zhao Jin. Their experience showed, and their weathered faces made them look even more mature and seasoned. Yet before Zhao Jin, each of them behaved like a child—like a child who had done a good deed and wanted praise and a treat from their parents. And these were ruthless men who defied the king's law, maintained private armies and local militias, and had blood on their hands. They were the only remaining local magnates in Xuzhou and its surrounding lands.

Zhao Jin smiled, hung his long spear on the saddle, and clasped his fists. "You have all come. I, Zhao, acknowledge this kindness."

That single sentence sent many around him hastily bowing in their saddles to express thanks, their mouths full of humble disclaimers. Zhao Jin casually pointed forward. Among the various pursuing mounted troops, men were already fleeing in all directions.

"You have all come from afar, and I, Zhao, have nothing with which to entertain you. I will wait for you all at the village ahead. For every pursuer's head delivered before nightfall, ten taels each. To whoever takes the most, I, Zhao, will also offer a special prize. Begin now!" Zhao Jin said with a smile, then waved his hand.

Upon hearing Zhao Jin's words, the leaders of the various factions who had come to reinforce were all invigorated. Wang Zhaojing had issued orders to muster the mounted troops to Yutai in Shandong to receive Zhao Jin, and naturally, no one had any objection. Being commanded by the Zhao Battalion now was a blessing for them; haggling was out of the question. They knew there would be compensation afterward, but they had not expected this time to be different—prizes were being offered on the spot. And they could tell from Zhao Jin's words that the best performers would receive further rewards later. Even without all that, letting their family's sons put on a good show before Master Jin was a tremendous opportunity in itself. If by chance they earned his favor, the whole family would benefit, and their future prospects would be boundless.

When Zhao Jin said to begin now, no one reacted for a moment. Zhao Jin then put the brass whistle to his lips and blew it hard. At that, everyone snapped to attention. They barely even bothered to take their leave of Zhao Jin, each one spurring their horse back to their own troop, then leading their men in a charge toward the Shandong pursuers who were already scattering and fleeing.

The Shandong pursuers scattered in a roaring rout, while Zhao Jin's reinforcements seemed to scatter as well—but one side was fleeing in collapse, the other in pursuit. Riders covered the hills and fields as far as the eye could see.

Everyone vied to be first. Only Cheng Daqi and Jiang Mutou did not go. Their family troops remained on horseback, guarding Zhao Jin and his party. The two of them were different from the others; their families had long since secured their own positions within the Zhao Battalion, and their sons had channels for advancement. They naturally had no interest in the immediate spoils before them. Staying close and currying favor was the real priority.

Watching the rolling dust clouds and the scene of shouting men and neighing horses before him, Cheng Daqi could not help but sigh with emotion. "I always thought a scene of over a thousand riders could only be seen up north. I never imagined it would appear here in Xuzhou."

"Men on horseback with blades from nearly half of Shandong and half of Southern Zhili have all gathered here. It would be strange if we couldn't muster this many," Jiang Mutou said with a laugh.

Yanzhou Prefecture was the largest of Shandong's six prefectures, accounting for roughly a quarter of the entire province, and over half of its economic output. As for the Xuzhou side—Xuzhou itself, Huai'an Prefecture, plus Suzhou—it was no small area either. When all the armed warriors who could ride and wield a blade in each region were mobilized, a number like this was hardly surprising.

However, bandits swarmed in Shandong, and the activities of mounted brigands were commonplace, while the lands around Xuzhou had a martial tradition. Both were north of the Yellow River. In other regions, it might not have been possible to mobilize so many men.

Zhao Jin did not join the pursuit. He simply led the main force to the village where the relief troops had been stationed. They had ridden almost without pause and needed to rest and regroup.

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