Chapter Forty-Four: Hong Xiaoshui Encounters an Enemy

Armies on the march should have vanguards and scouts to reconnoiter the enemy ahead, but these adventurers were not true soldiers and had no chain of command... This world is not yours to control! Their ranks barely maintained order; the formation was loose, spirits high, and many felt as if they were out for a spring excursion rather than on a campaign.

Only Feng Xiaobao and his two companions moved tightly guarded, protected fore and aft by thirty retainers in two squads, their formation always compact. As for the real government troops from the Zhechong Garrison... With four regiments of cannon fodder ahead, why bother with vanguards and scouts?

In such circumstances, the column entered an ambush. When half of the first regiment had crossed the official road by the edge of the high ground, a sudden clang of the signal gong rang out. A hundred archers sprang up from the heights and unleashed a chaotic volley down the mountain road!

The brunt fell upon the rear half of the first regiment and the vanguard of the second. Arrows whistled and fell, striking down rows of men in an instant! Not everyone carried shields; some considered them cumbersome, unfashionable, and a sign of cowardice. Adventurers, proud with bow and sword, saw no need for such blatant declarations of fear.

Those who held such notions were swiftly felled by the merciless arrows. The rest scrambled for their shields, striving to fend off the deadly barrage.

After a fan-shaped sweep of arrows, the archers on the heights had claimed over fifty casualties and thrown the enemy formation into chaos.

"Charge!" The bandits on the small hill rushed down with a thunderous roar.

"It's Snake-spear Zhang Yongping and Twin-sabre Tian Anding!" shouted those who recognized them.

On the adventurers' side was the young Lü Bu, Lü Yingbu, a high imitation of the famed Lü Bu; among the bandits, Snake-spear Zhang Yongping followed the path of Yanman Zhang Yide, wielding his snake-spear, astride a black horse, fierce as a demon, his coarse beard bristling like needles, bearing some of the prowess of the legendary Zhang.

He charged down the slope, spear thrusting into the stunned crowd. With a mighty flick, he sent an unfortunate soul flying ten meters, landing heavily, the force remarkable. Left and right, he stabbed and lifted, slaying wherever he passed without contest, reveling in the slaughter.

Twin-sabre Tian Anding wielded curved blades in both hands, his face cold, movements fluid and graceful, yet he harvested life after life. He plunged into the throng, surrounded by enemies, his blades striking at random but always finding their mark. His attacks not only felled foes but deftly shielded himself.

The bandits, each armed with a spear and a saber on their backs, descended chaotically, but once on level ground, they magically formed military lines, raising spears and stabbing in unison.

"Kill!"

Indeed, wherever the organized bandits advanced, the disordered adventurers fell in rows to their spears! The bandits pressed forward; though only two hundred strong, their momentum was overwhelming. The adventurers' ranks retreated, from the hilltop to the foot, the road littered with corpses and blood flowing like a stream.

In truth, the bandits were few; if the hundred-man company at the front of the first regiment had only turned back, they could have flanked the bandits. But Sima Chang and his archers on the heights pinned them down, unable to assist, leaving the Huang Leopard and Huang Tiger brothers stomping in frustration.

The second regiment suffered heavy losses—over fifty fallen to arrows, a hundred killed or wounded in battle. Even the two temporary captains, Chen Chengding and Tian Du, were injured. Chen had narrowly escaped losing an arm to a snake-spear thrust, while Tian took an arrow to the chest; fortunately, his armor held, and after removing the arrow he was largely unharmed, though his fighting strength was greatly diminished.

The third regiment, under Wu Luo and Cheng An, managed to form a defensive line and barely held against the bandits' charge. However, lacking training in dense formations, their movements hampered themselves and their neighbors, discomfort giving the bandits openings.

Fortunately, the bandits' advantage was fleeting; the fourth regiment was flanking from the side, preparing to encircle them.

Led by Wang Kui and Lü Yingbu, Feng Xiaobao and his group joined the fray, galloping toward the enemy's rear.

A sharp whistle pierced the air, echoing for miles—a signal from Sima Chang atop the heights, recognizing the unfavorable turn and ordering a retreat.

Before the eyes of all, the bandits turned and fled, their earlier swagger vanished, now desperate to escape, legs swift as wind, ordinary horses unable to catch them.

"Outrageous!"

How could they come and go as they pleased? The adventurers gave chase, initially wary of the archers on the heights, but no arrows flew—the archers had already withdrawn. In mountain warfare, archers are invaluable; they would never remain behind to cover the retreat. If the government troops with shields pressed up, a few deaths would pain the bandits deeply.

Archers are best used to hold defensible positions, and only with infantry coordination can their strengths be fully realized; the bandits were not foolish.

Covering the retreat was "Three-hand General" Hong Xiaoshui, who led fifty cavalry to interpose obliquely between the bandits and adventurers, not engaging directly, only loosing arrows as the adventurers approached, then withdrawing.

Under arrow fire, most of the adventurers ceased pursuit, but Lü Yingbu, confident in his prowess, spurred his white horse, charging straight at the bandits!

He moved so quickly, and after loosing three arrows, the nearest bandit was struck down by Lü Yingbu's spear before he realized the danger!

The adventurers' morale soared for less than a minute before they saw Lü Yingbu turn tail and flee in embarrassment, such a sudden shift that all were stunned, mouths agape.

He had drawn the special attention of "Three-hand General" Hong Xiaoshui. Her arm flicked, sending three stones flying as swiftly as arrows, like bolts of lightning!

The moniker "Three-hand General" was not literal, but referred to her speed, as if three hands struck simultaneously.

Lü Yingbu bravely defended, smashing two stones with his spear, but the third he could not block in time. He ducked low on horseback, the stone grazing his head, the deadly intent making him break into a cold sweat—the closest brush with death in all his martial years!

His courage fled; seeing Hong Xiaoshui raise her hand again, Lü Yingbu wheeled his horse and bolted!

"This girl is fierce!" Yang Chengxian's eyes gleamed. "Look at how many she's hit—twelve of the Huang brothers, three more before Lü Yingbu, sixteen in all, none could best her!"

"Girl" was a term adopted from Feng Xiaobao's vocabulary and had spread among the group.

Yang Chengxian, entranced, stared at Hong Xiaoshui's lithe, panther-like figure with such focus that even she glanced curiously toward their side.

"Little Yang, you're hopeless!" Cheng Boxi chuckled, "Red near cinnabar, black near ink!"

All friends, they understood his teasing—Yang Chengxian was following Feng Xiaobao's lead. Yang took no offense, gesturing to Feng Xiaobao, "Shall we take her?"

"Take her," Feng Xiaobao nodded.

Earlier, when Sima Chang arrived, Feng Xiaobao and his friends held back—not out of modesty, but now that Sima Chang and Hong Xiaoshui had ascended by stepping on heroes, they intended to do the same to Hong Xiaoshui.

"Alright!" Yang Chengxian charged ahead, the other two not to be outdone, the three riding in pursuit.

Their retainers and elite guards followed closely, neither stealing their masters' thunder nor letting them fall into danger.

Others withdrew, but their daring drew cheers and encouragement from the adventurer ranks.

Seeing three youthful riders, Hong Xiaoshui underestimated them, sending three stones almost simultaneously at the trio.

All three responded in kind—Feng Xiaobao and Yang Chengxian with spears, Cheng Boxi with a decorative axe—knocking the stones aside or shattering them with ease!

Hong Xiaoshui turned her horse and fled!

It proved wise; their group pursued, at least six or seven able to shoot arrows from horseback. Hong Xiaoshui's fifty archers, though more numerous, were scattered (a lapse in vigilance). Arrows flew in both directions, filling the air.

In the exchange, Feng Xiaobao's group lost three riders, all unhurt, while the bandits lost seven. Regardless of death, once unhorsed, the advancing Feng Xiaobao group beheaded them all—seventy strings of copper coins gained!

Seeing this, the bandits scattered like wild beasts, fleeing in all directions—impossible to know whom to pursue.

Feng Xiaobao and his companions, of course, chased Hong Xiaoshui. For reasons unknown, she did not attack again.

She had her reasons; she was waiting. Waiting is a virtue, and the right moment to strike always comes.

Of the trio, Yang Chengxian and Cheng Boxi had the best mounts, but Cheng Boxi was heavier, so Yang led, Cheng second, Feng Xiaobao lagging behind—his horse inferior, as befitting a nouveau riche lacking in substance.

Distance growing, lacking his brothers' cover, he risked danger—a lesson his father taught, yet he paid it no heed.

Yang Chengxian encountered Hong Xiaoshui's lightning attack!

Prepared as he was, he managed to knock aside one stone with his spear, ducked beneath the second, but the third struck his shoulder. Though armor absorbed much of the blow, the force was astonishing, rendering his right hand useless and forcing him to wield his spear left-handed.

Temporarily crippled, his horse slowed, Cheng Boxi overtook him—promptly drawing Hong Xiaoshui's fierce stone attack!

Though somewhat overweight, Cheng Boxi was nimble; seeing her strike, he performed a deft evasion, and not a single stone hit him.

But his mount suffered for him, taking a blow that sent it wild, bucking and bolting, Cheng unable to control it—his retainers broke off to follow.

The task of pursuing Hong Xiaoshui fell to Feng Xiaobao. Could he handle her?

Three stones flew at him, one after another, but so fast they seemed simultaneous.

A challenge for others, but not for Feng Xiaobao!

Few knew that besides diligent training, he nightly practiced the "Tibetan Secret Great Mudra"!

This mudra did not make him a god, nor did it let him defeat thousands alone, but it gave him qualities tending toward the superhuman: sharper mind, quicker reflexes, heightened senses, and a mysterious boost to the "Eight Consciousnesses" (sight, hearing, smell, taste, touch, thought, plus the subtle manas and alaya consciousnesses).

Thus, the three stones, unstoppable so far, were each knocked down by Feng Xiaobao's spear, as if effortlessly sketching in the air.

The stones were fast; his movements were faster.

Seeing stones fail, three silver flashes shot upward, swift as silver threads, aimed at Feng Xiaobao.

Throwing knives! Again, throwing knives!

They were actually palm-sized silver darts, comparable to the famed Little Li Flying Daggers, appearing and disappearing, leaving witnesses with a sense of helplessness... How could one defend against such?

Yet Feng Xiaobao extended his arm, catching the first silver thread, immediately hurling it to intercept the second in midair—both clattered to the ground.

The third silver thread landed in his hand; what others found impossible, he handled with ease.

He laughed, "Return to you!"

The silver thread flashed, faster than Hong Xiaoshui's own throw, striking her horse's leg. Horse and rider crashed to the ground, her leg pinned beneath the beast, unable to move.

"Bravo!" The crowd erupted in thunderous applause.