55. The Bandits Are Coming

In the open fields outside the garrison of the Outlying Boulder Shoal, a group of young children were digging for wild vegetables.

Grain was never enough here, and wild vegetables served as half a year's sustenance.

An eleven or twelve-year-old boy, carrying a back-basket and accompanied by his family’s emaciated yellow dog, walked alongside his eight-year-old sister, searching for wild greens as they moved. These would make up the family's midday meal of vegetable dough balls.

Both of their parents had been conscripted to build the stockade walls.

They had to dig for wild vegetables to ensure that he and his sister had something to eat.

His name was Zhuzi, the child of a military household.

The Hundred-Man Commander had ordered everyone to move into the township, and now there were far too many people digging for wild vegetables, forcing them to walk a very long distance.

Everyone was desperately hungry, and walking was a painful ordeal.

Fortunately, the Hundred-Man Commander was deeply sympathetic to their plight.

Over the past two days, boats had delivered barrels upon barrel of porridge.

Every morning, everyone in the garrison—regardless of gender, old or young—received a bowl. Each person was even given a stainless steel basin to use as tableware, along with a steel spoon.

That steel basin was truly magnificent; it could be used as a mirror, reflecting a person's figure with crystal clarity.

And that porridge tasted divine! A thick layer of oil floated on top.

It even had salt in it—how long had it been since they last tasted salt?

There was even a hint of spice in the broth.

At this thought, his small belly rumbled uncooperatively.

He hurriedly tightened his waistband, which was made of straw rope.

"Older brother, I still have a piece of vegetable dough ball that Mother gave me. You eat it first."

"Older brother is not hungry. Be a good girl, Nannan, you eat it. This is what Mother gave you."

As he spoke, he affectionately stroked his sister's dry, yellowish hair.

"Woof, arf, arf arf arf!" The big yellow dog suddenly grew restless and began to bark in low tones.

The little girl was short enough that she could just wrap her arms around the thick neck of this large, skinny dog.

"Big Yellow, stop barking. Are you hungry?"

The little girl used her small hands to comfort the dog.

Sensing that something was wrong, the boy used both hands and feet to scramble up a large scholar tree in three moves.

He looked out in all directions. The wilderness under the sunlight offered a vast, unobstructed view.

On the distant horizon, against the glare of the sun, a few black dots appeared where the earth met the sky.

Then, more and more black dots emerged.

They were moving fast, and as the distance closed,

he saw them clearly: cavalry!

He quickly slid down from the tree, grabbed his sister, and hoisted her onto Big Yellow's back.

"Little sister, listen to me,"

The little girl winced in pain from his tight grip, staring blankly at her anxious older brother.

"Hold onto Big Yellow's neck and don't let go. Big Yellow will carry you running back to the stockade. Older brother has something to do and will be back shortly. Once you get home, do not come out until Mom and Dad return, do you understand?"

The little girl nodded blankly.

"Older brother, give me the back-basket. We still need to eat vegetable dough balls tonight."

"Be a good girl, leave it. Big Yellow, run back! Go home, run fast!"

The large dog let out an anxious whine, reluctant to leave its young master behind.

Panicking, Zhuzi picked up a branch and struck it.

"Scram!"

Big Yellow let out a pitiful, aggrieved yelp.

Carrying the little girl, it bolted forward like an arrow released from a bow.

The little girl stumbled and almost fell off, hurriedly wrapping her arms tightly around the dog's neck.

Zhuzi kicked the back-basket over, pulled out the bronze gong that Commander Wang had given him upon departure, and began to beat it frantically.

"Clang, clang, clang!" In the open wilderness, the sound of the bronze gong traveled far and wide.

Everyone stopped what they were doing and stood up to look around in all directions.

Running wildly toward the township, Zhuzi beat the gong and screamed at the top of his lungs, "Stop digging! Run, the bandits are coming!"

"Run! The bandits are coming!"

With a loud bang, the group of children erupted in panic, turning into a fleeing mob of crying and shouting youngsters.

Some dropped their shoes, ran back to retrieve them—shoes were vital property, and losing them meant a beating.

"Dunzi, have you lost your mind? Leave it, run!" Zhuzi grabbed Dunzi by the collar, kicking and shoving him along.

"Waaah!" A seven or eight-year-old little girl, separated from her family, sat on the ground crying.

People were running around chaotically everywhere, and no one knew whose child she was.

In the distance, the cavalry heard the sound of the gong and immediately accelerated.

Two legs could never outrun four legs, especially not those of starving children.

The cavalry closed in rapidly.

A blinding flash of a saber swept through the air, and a tiny human head flew upward. The body continued to run forward for a few steps before collapsing.

Gritting his teeth, Zhuzi grabbed a little girl, clamped a hand over her mouth, and rolled down into a depression beneath a large boulder—a small dirt pit he had accidentally fallen into once before.

He leaned close to her ear and whispered, "Don't be afraid, don't make a sound, and they won't hear us."

Outside, the slaughter continued. There were the screams of people whose bones were crushed beneath horse hooves, pleas for mercy, and helpless weeping.

At that moment, the little girl opened her wide eyes in silence. The scrawny, battered older brother beside her gave her an immense sense of security. Suddenly, she stopped being afraid and calmed down.

In the distance, Big Yellow had already run into the stockade, while the little girl looked back, crying out, "Older brother! Older brother!"

The stockade wall was not yet finished. For the past dozen days or so, everyone had worked day and night, managing to build only a wall three cubits high and five cubits thick. Commander Wang Dali and Commander Zhang Wu looked anxiously outward.

Fifty cavalrymen instantly engulfed the dozens of children.

Wang Dali angrily slammed his fist against the unfinished stockade wall.

"Those beasts!"

Zhang Wu shouted, "Quickly send a runner out through the back gate. Have him ride to report this to the Hundred-Man Commander and the Thousand-Man Commander."

"Issue the weapons, quickly, issue the weapons!"

Thirty waist sabers, thirty-five bows, and sixty divine guns were rapidly distributed. The remaining three hundred and twenty-one able-bodied men were handed long-handled tree-felling axes recently shipped in by the Hundred-Man Commander.

Following the Hundred-Man Commander's orders, the women were each issued a bamboo pole sharpened at one end, the tips hardened by fire.

Everyone stopped their labor and hoisted the makeshift roadblocks of thorny brushwood and brambles—cut from the mountains over the past few days—onto the stockade wall. The defenders crouched low behind the three-cubit-high rampart.

The cavalry galloped to within thirty meters of the stockade wall and halted without advancing further.

The leader spotted the newly excavated defensive trench, three meters wide and two meters deep, along with the newly tamped earth stockade wall standing three cubits high behind it. The top of the wall was cluttered with thorny roadblocks.

Behind the wall and the barriers, numerous spears gleamed and shifted.

It was impossible to tell how many people were inside.

They were clearly prepared.

This surprise raid had failed; there was no sense in throwing away valuable cavalry by charging directly into the roadblocks.

This small force was not enough to breach a prepared fortification, and it appeared there were plenty of armed defenders inside.

Wang Dali waved his arm. "Shoot! Shoot those bastards!"

The fifty or so hunters in the township—some using the issued cavalry bows and large hunting bows, others using their own personal hunting bows—let loose a volley of arrows at the horse bandits.

In an instant, arrows filled the air like a swarm of locusts. At such close range, the hit rate was quite high, and over thirty men on the opposite side were struck.

The next moment, Wang Dali and Zhang Wu stared in utter shock.

Only three men and one horse had been killed on the opposing side.

The arrows simply stuck into those men, wobbling slightly. They wore armor beneath their robes.

Wang Dali and Zhang Wu exchanged a horrified look.

These were not ordinary horse bandits.

The cavalry began to fall back, moving out of bowshot range, and then started circling the stockade, loosely surrounding it.

"Did the runner get out?" Zhang Wu asked.

"Commander, he left the incense-stick time ago. He's riding the fastest horse; the horse bandits won't be able to catch him."

Zhang Wu and Wang Dali finally let out a breath of relief.