Chapter Ninety-Eight: Night Battle

The bandits clung to the fence like leeches, wildly hacking at it with their weapons and ramming their bodies against the barrier. Wood chips flew out now and then, and some bandits’ machetes got stuck deep in the fence, unable to be withdrawn, only to be struck in the eyes by the spears of the defenders on the other side.

Fortunately, the fence was deeply embedded in the ground, and Xu Wenshan had arranged for its reinforcement during the day. For the moment, the bandits’ assaults were ineffective. The spearmen inside the fence refused to yield, gripping their spears backward and thrusting fiercely. The bandits were agile, dodging through the fence’s gaps, but they were outnumbered by spears and soon a batch of them fell before the fence.

Not far away, the Black Wind Bandit Chief did not personally command the attack but instead kept a close eye on the Fei Ma Stronghold’s movements.

The garrison at Fengshi Village was not his primary concern—at least, not yet.

“Report! The Fei Ma Stronghold has collectively taken their horses to water, leaving only twenty men to guard the camp.”

“And what of Cha Yi Ma?”

“He went with the main group as well.”

A cold sneer curled his lips. “He’s trying to create an opportunity for me.”

These two strongholds regarded each other as their greatest threats. The Black Wind Chief had intended to launch a night assault, but due to Fei Ma’s interference, he was limited to dispatching only a small force for harassment.

Now that Fei Ma had sensibly withdrawn, he had no reason to hold back.

“All units, listen up! The first to breach Fengshi Village’s defenses will receive a grand reward! The next ten to break through will receive moderate rewards! Anyone who kills an enemy will be rewarded!”

Upon hearing the command, the bandits’ eyes gleamed green with greed. Each one rubbed their hands eagerly, desperate to charge the front lines immediately.

“Attack!”

...

Zeng Qiong was an ordinary soldier under Thunder Tiger’s Second Squad. He had hoped to earn merit in the first battle for Fengshi Village, but the enemy had been routed so quickly he never got the chance to prove himself.

Now the opportunity had come, but the situation was growing perilous.

At first, the enemy numbers were few. After several rounds of defense, their assault began to falter.

But soon, the bandits reinforced their ranks and their morale visibly soared.

They were no more skilled than the White Dragon Gang, but far more ruthless. One bandit climbed the fence and suddenly swung his blade at Zeng Qiong’s head. The distance was too close; Zeng Qiong didn’t even dodge but stabbed backward with his spear. The bandit threw his knife directly at his head, yet luckily the blade struck the back of Zeng Qiong’s spear and deflected, or it might have pierced his skull.

Dodging aside, Zeng Qiong thrust his spear forward again just as the bandit tried to climb over the fence. The spear struck the bandit’s back; he cried out and collapsed, lifeless.

...

Before Zeng Qiong could collect himself, a sudden “swish” sounded—a shaft had pierced his shoulder, though he felt no pain.

He crouched and pulled the arrow out, realizing it had only lodged in his shoulder armor without penetrating.

Still, it drenched him in cold sweat. He had just brushed with death, spared only by fortune.

“Attention! Enemy archers spotted!”

By the flickering torchlight, a row of archers could be made out, aiming their bows at them.

“Extinguish the lights! Extinguish the lights!” shouted Wu Yi in charge of the defense. Guards on the watchtowers hurled their braziers outside the camp, plunging the area into darkness.

The sudden blackness threw the enemy archers’ aim off, but their numbers were many. Several soldiers were hit by stray arrows, and a few bandits seized the chance to climb into the camp. Though the spearmen quickly surrounded and killed them, the defense line was breached.

“Maintain formation! Maintain formation!” Thunder Tiger bellowed. “Have you forgotten your training?”

The soldiers regrouped, spears aligned outward, finally stabilizing the defense. The bandits’ weapons were at a disadvantage, and the fence barred their advance. Even those who climbed in were met with relentless thrusts.

Many bandits were killed while scaling the fence, their bodies hanging like strings of dried meat during the New Year, occasionally punctured by arrows with a soft “thwack.”

Blood stained the fence from yellow to red, thick drops pattering onto the ground below.

The Black Wind Chief’s feigned attack had fully turned into an all-out assault, and Xu Wenshan had brought all available troops to bear. On the first day of defense, the battle rapidly intensified.

As the fighting dragged on, Xu Wenshan’s side began to accumulate wounded. If left untreated, infection was inevitable.

“Auxiliary troops! Where’s the auxiliary battalion? Come quickly to rescue the wounded!”

Thanks to his eager volunteering earlier that day, Zhang Aniu had been assigned to the auxiliary battalion.

Though he had been enthusiastic then, now his face was pale as he crouched, head down, too fearful to look up. Positioned near the rear, many arrows still fell around him.

His task was to carry wounded soldiers back. There were few casualties, but every step forward felt like wading through death.

Beside him crouched a former White Dragon Gang enforcer, a shifty-eyed man who often grinned slyly at him, sending chills down Zhang Aniu’s spine.

Seeing Zhang Aniu’s terrified expression, the ex-enforcer chuckled, “Scared, huh?”

Zhang Aniu stiffened his neck. “No.”

“Never seen a fight like this before, right?”

Zhang Aniu said nothing; indeed, he hadn’t.

“Here’s a trick: silently repeat to yourself, ‘The arrow won’t hit me,’ ten times, and the arrow won’t find you.”

Zhang Aniu listened skeptically, but the man pressed him, “Say it!”

So Zhang Aniu silently chanted, “The arrow won’t hit me, the arrow won’t hit me, the arrow won’t hit me…”

At the tenth repetition, an arrow whizzed past and struck the man in the neck.

He never made a sound before collapsing, his face twisted in a sinister grin.

“Ah!” Zhang Aniu screamed, leapt up, dashed to the fence, hoisted a fallen spearman onto his back, and ran.

For some reason, despite treading the razor’s edge between life and death with every step, he no longer felt fear. His lips kept moving the mantra: “It won’t hit me, it won’t hit me, it won’t hit me…”

As he ran desperately, he suddenly noticed someone standing calmly nearby. Squinting, he saw it was Xu Wenshan.

Xu Wenshan held a bow in one hand, eyes narrowed as he scanned the distance. Arrows zipped past him, but suddenly he spun sharply, snatching one from midair. The arrow’s shaft still trembled faintly.

He quickly reversed the arrowhead, nocked it on his bow, and let loose. Moments later, a thud echoed as a distant figure fell.

Looking closely at the quiver at Xu Wenshan’s waist, Zhang Aniu realized it was empty.

Xu Wenshan calmly glanced at him and said, “Fetch some arrows.”

Zhang Aniu felt deeply ashamed. He realized that this third young master of the Xu family was no older than himself—two years younger, in fact.

If even he was so composed, why should he panic?

Zhang Aniu nodded resolutely and sprinted off, carrying the wounded like the wind.