Chapter 958

The riders of Zhao's Camp kept a leisurely pace, calmly drawing their bows and loosing arrows. Some kept their eyes fixed on the bandit formation. Some shot with unhurried ease, while others suddenly burst into rapid motion. Men in the refugee horde screamed and toppled one after another. Among the Shi family, only one man could draw a bow from horseback. Seeing the disciplined performance of Zhao's Camp, he dared not embarrass himself by showing off. But the group watched very closely. Those shooting calmly were aiming casually at the front ranks or simply loosing volleys. Those suddenly drawing and shooting in rapid bursts were targeting the archers in the refugee band. Because the horses were not moving fast, aiming was not difficult.

By the time Zhao's Camp's mounted company had ridden past the front of the bandit formation, many corpses lay sprawled before the bandit lines. One could say not a single arrow had been wasted. Yet the main bandit force's morale remained high; they were still there shouting all manner of Buddha-invoking slogans.

Indeed, the damage was negligible — a mere two hundred corpses. Such casualties meant nothing to a refugee horde numbering in the thousands. They were accustomed to death and had grown utterly indifferent to it. The Shi family fretted inwardly. At this rate, nothing would be resolved.

But the company commander leading the unit was perfectly composed. After wheeling around once, he whistled and signaled them to close in again. At a distance of just twenty or thirty paces, they drew and loosed. Again, men screamed and fell. The bandit formation gradually began to stir. The lesson from Jining had already spread: if enemy cavalry closed in to shoot, you had to charge out with everything you had. As long as you could take down a few of theirs, they would not dare approach again.

But this place was different from Jining. There, the men were handpicked, devout, able-bodied youths. Here, they were a cut below. Watching the enemy horsemen press forward with awe-inspiring authority, many were terrified out of their wits. They had no heart left to charge forward, only chanting desperately in their mouths and hearts, hoping the enemy's arrows would not land on their own heads.

But when the riders charged in a second time, inaction was no longer an option. Among the various ranks of the Incense-Smelling Sect's rebel mob, some leaders led from the front, while others drove their followers forward. Leveling an assortment of weapons, they surged out to attack. Yet every time this happened, the cavalry of Zhao's Camp, far from panicking and speeding up, instead reined their horses to a halt. Right there on horseback, they drew, nocked, and loosed in rapid succession, only spurring their mounts forward again once they had thoroughly shattered the charging men.

The refugees who charged out into the rain of arrows were certainly fearless in the face of death. But the riders of Zhao's Camp simply halted their horses and shot, watching the refugees rush to within a few steps of them without so much as blinking, continuing to draw and loose. Their courage was equally remarkable.

This time, another hundred-odd corpses were left behind. The refugees no longer dared charge out. That formation, which had looked passably decent, could no longer hold. Standing there made them living targets, letting the other side shoot and slaughter at will — what was the point? Even trading life for life would have been better. No one could endure just taking hits like this.

Just as the unrest was spreading, Zhao's Camp's mounted company wheeled back around again. This time, they did not come too close, but neither did they bother to maintain much mobility. At about forty paces, they reined in their mounts one after another, then with loud shouts raised their bows on horseback. A whistling rain of arrows poured down.

The Shi family could no longer keep up with the rhythm at all. Afraid of holding back the main force, and equally afraid of being left behind and trapped in the enemy formation, they simply hung far back. All they saw was Zhao's Camp's mounted company riding as if they were strolling, maneuvering with perfect ease, drawing their bows as if swinging blades — simple, swift, and remarkably accurate.

"Fight them to the death! If this goes on, we're all finished!" Someone in the bandit formation roared. Soon, answering roars of fury erupted. The bandit formation, increasingly unable to hold, suddenly collapsed. The human tide surged forward like floodwaters bursting through a breached dam.

The riders of Zhao's Camp's mounted company still whooped and yelled, their hands never ceasing to draw their bows. In the interval of that forward charge, each of them loosed at least two arrows; the quickest had already loosed three. Over two hundred men shot without pause, and the rain of arrows poured down with equal ferocity. The refugees' charge was forcibly halted for a moment. Then, with strange laughs, the riders of Zhao's Camp wheeled their horses around, picked up speed, and made off.

Once such a vast horde of refugees scattered and charged out, how could they stop all at once? They just kept chasing forward in a mad rush. That surging, ferocious tide of humanity was like a mountain crumbling or a tsunami erupting — anything standing before it would be crushed to pieces. The Shi family were lashing their horses to gallop for all they were worth, but those men of Zhao's Camp's mounted company ran on ahead, unhurried and unflustered. In any case, no matter how madly a man ran, he could never catch a horse. From time to time, they turned in the saddle and loosed an arrow back.

The Shi family could finally discern some of the art in it. These riders of Zhao's Camp were not utterly carefree; rather, they had an exquisite grasp of measure. The galloping of their mounts versus the frantic sprinting on foot, the range of their bows — all these shifts between motion and stillness were entirely within their control. In these gaps and intervals, they ceaselessly drew and loosed, preserving their own safety while killing the enemy.

Thinking it over carefully, it was nothing strange. This was precisely how mounted warriors on the grasslands should fight, fully exploiting the advantages of horsemanship and archery.

This chase and flight did not last very long. The momentum of the refugee band came to a halt. The pent-up fury accumulated from being suppressed and slaughtered by arrows had also vented itself clean. Along the entire path of their charge, the ground was now littered with arrow-struck corpses.

The formation had broken. No longer were there comrades at their sides to stand shoulder to shoulder or to coerce them forward. They would not stiffen their necks to endure the rain of arrows and the shock of impact. It seemed they could flee in any direction. At this moment, what gods or Buddhas, what "Long Live" — none of it had the slightest effect. Only panic and terror remained.

Those fiendishly vicious and maddeningly elusive cavalry were coming back to kill again. Why keep holding? Run!

When Zhao's Camp's mounted company up ahead calmly wheeled around — some drawing their sabers, others continuing to shoot — and charged toward the scattering bandit horde, there was no resistance left to speak of. The refugee mass simply collapsed utterly. Many threw down their weapons, turned, and fled toward the stronghold.

Seeing this scene, the Shi family's eyes went red. Weapons in hand, they spurred their horses to charge forward. They wanted to hack and slash to their hearts' content, to exact vengeance for the Shi Family Manor not far away. But no sooner had they charged forward than they were shouted to a halt, ordered to move behind the main force. Having now witnessed the fearsome might of Zhao's Camp's mounted company, they dared not show the slightest disobedience.

By this time, the Shi family also noticed that the mounted company had not plunged into the routed bandit horde to slaughter at will. Instead, they had formed a great semicircle, driving the refugees back the way they had come in this manner. Any who tried to run outside this ring were mercilessly cut down, while those fleeing toward the stronghold were not pressed too hard. After pursuing like this for a stretch, they watched the bulk of the refugees trample each other and tumble into the moat before the gates of Shi Family Manor, and advanced no further.

Watching the remnants of the refugee band withdraw into the stronghold and the drawbridge being hauled up again, the Shi family felt little disappointment. Two hundred riders had skirmished with several thousand bandits like clever cats toying with mice. In just a few passes, they had routed them. Achieving a great victory was truly that easy. If they did not annihilate them utterly, it was simply because they did not wish to yet. Why be impatient for this one moment?

From the moment they arrived to the moment they engaged, Zhao's Camp's mounted company had always seemed perfectly composed. They moved slowly, fought slowly, steadily wearing down the refugee force that had sallied out. But once this wave of men had retreated back into the manor, the company of over two hundred riders quickened their pace. They split into several squads — some went to block the various gates, others circled Shi Family Manor. Even the Shi family were not left idle; they were called down to pull out arrows, retrieving the shafts from the corpses.

This approach baffled the Shi family. When they had first arrived, outnumbered and facing a larger force, they had shown no panic, instead engaging with calm composure. Yet now, having beaten the enemy so badly they dared not come out, they were acting as if facing a formidable foe, nervously preparing for battle. Could they be guarding against a large relief force of bandits? Even the Shi family, who were not exactly pure military men, knew the refugees could not possibly send a large relief force. They lacked that much mobile strength, nor did they have the grain to supply and sustain one. Then what was this for now?

Much as the Shi family judged, the Incense-Smelling Sect's refugee rebels inside the manor, after being soundly thrashed by this mounted company, found that divine protection and battle formations were utterly useless. Who would dare go out to die? They simply huddled inside the manor.

But though they dared not go out to fight, they absolutely had to seek reinforcements from Jining. At the very least, they had to get this news out. These were troops coming up from the south. When they had been dispatched here, they had been exhorted over and over: if any troops came north from the south, they must report it immediately.

Yet now, when they wanted to send word, they could not get it out. The stronghold gates were out of the question. But sneaking down from the walls anywhere around the perimeter was also impossible. The mounted company kept an extremely tight guard — anyone who went down was killed. Some tried to be clever and create a diversion, but with the cavalry's mobility, they could easily deal with one side and still chase down the escapees on the other. It merely cost a little more time.

What the refugees in Shi Family Manor found even more unexpected was that the mounted company outside kept a tight watch not only during the day but also through the night without relaxing. The refugees had only recently eaten a few full meals, and most suffered from night blindness. The riders of this mounted company, on the other hand, seemed even more capable at night. The manor kept sending men out, but all those inside could hear were the screams that rang out one after another from outside.

The only thing that gave them comfort was that this mounted company had not brought much in the way of provisions. After the upheaval and famine, there was no forage to be found around Shi Family Manor either. This mounted company could not stay longer than a day and a night, and there was no sign of them seeking supplies. That meant if they held out one more night, the enemy would surely leave, and then they could deliver the message.

The night passed just like that. Three two-hour periods after daybreak, the men on the stronghold walls confirmed that the mounted company outside had consumed everything they had. If they did not leave soon, both men and mounts would go hungry.

And it was at this very juncture that the refugees on the wall saw dust rising in the south. Being caught up in it themselves, they felt nothing, but looking from afar, the sight was soul-shaking. Everyone knew: a large force was approaching.

Mounted units, foot units, heavy supply wagons — from the heights of Shi Family Manor, one could also see the surface of the canal. Across the long-deserted waterway, a fleet of boats had appeared as well.

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