Chapter Fifty-Five: Robbery on the Road (Part One)

No attack order could be given!

As one who had long danced on the edge of the blade, he knew all too well that the moment his hand dropped, his own head might follow; he would be courting immense trouble and might not even see the morning sun. His mind whirled frantically: “What should I do?”

There was no answer. If he ordered the attack, his life was at stake; if he did not, having roused a crowd for nothing, he would lose all face and reputation. Advance or retreat, both were fraught with peril.

As for Feng Xiaobao, he too was plagued by a headache. If he took the initiative, he would make many enemies; if he did not fight, there were people blocking the way.

In the end, the stalemate was broken by Sun Xingchen, the Commander of the Military Guards from Mianchi Prefecture. He rode his horse between the two tense factions and called out, “Hey now, what are you all doing? We’ve just taken the bandit stronghold in Xin Du Mountain and haven’t even had time to celebrate, and here you are turning on each other!”

“Lower your weapons!” Sun Xingchen commanded with authority.

Out of respect, everyone complied and set down their arms. Sun Xingchen continued, “Huang Bao, Huang Hu, clear the way.”

Huang Bao made a silent gesture, and his brothers from the Chang’an road stepped aside. Feng Xiaobao and his two companions thanked Sun Xingchen in unison and hurried away.

Not until he watched them disappear did Sun Xingchen return to camp. In his position, disputes among roaming swordsmen were best left to resolve themselves; he did not wish to meddle unless necessary. Yet, since the affair involved Feng Xiaobao and his two companions, who had influential backgrounds, he had little choice but to intervene.

Meanwhile, the road brothers looked to Huang Bao and Huang Hu for an explanation. Wiping the sweat from his brow, Huang Bao replied with a bitter tone, “They belong to the Tang Family Archers!”

So that was the reason!

No one blamed them, for the Tang Family Archers were renowned in the underworld. Their main businesses were ranching and escorting caravans, and every member was a master of the bow. Even more famous than their prowess was their family creed: “No descendant may enter officialdom.” None of them served in the government, though the authorities held them in high esteem.

They sold fine horses in great numbers and often trained the imperial troops in archery, acting as instructors within the military. Many officers owed their skills to them. Thus, though none held office, their connections within the army ran deep, and no one dared provoke them.

To be targeted by the Tang Family Archers meant certain death—if not an arrow through the heart, then one through the head. No one blamed Huang Bao for backing down.

...

“Hyah!” Feng Xiaobao and his group left Xin Du Mountain at a gallop, slowing only after a good distance had passed. Cheng Boxi flattered, “Sister-in-law is formidable! Sister-in-law is awe-inspiring!” Yang Chengxian echoed the sentiment.

Tang Tian stole a glance at Feng Xiaobao and protested, “What nonsense are you all spouting?”

“Thank you, Tian’er!” Feng Xiaobao said warmly. Now he understood what it meant to win without a fight: as soon as the bows were drawn, Huang Bao and Huang Hu froze, not daring to make a move.

“That’s only because they’re too soft. If it were you, I’d be at a loss,” Tang Tian replied with modesty.

“They’ve grown too comfortable; their spirits have changed, and now they fear death,” remarked Tang Zhiling, who had come with Tang Tian, his tone full of disdain.

“Well said!” Feng Xiaobao and the others nodded in agreement.

“Let’s go!”

It was broad daylight as they hurried along the official road. The journey from Mianchi to Luoyang was about a hundred kilometers, and they had covered only twenty when, from behind a roadside hill, a hundred horsemen suddenly surged into view!

They wore plain clothes and light gear—sabers and spears—and all donned soft armor. (Hard armor would have been too conspicuous in the heartland of the Tang dynasty. A squad of heavy cavalry would have drawn immediate attention, and the authorities would not have let them go unchallenged.) All had their faces covered; their intentions were clearly hostile.

“Not bad at all! To muster so many men at a moment’s notice—ha!” Feng Xiaobao exclaimed in admiration.

None of his companions shared his mirth; Yang Chengxian and Cheng Boxi were far more tense, gulping and gripping their weapons tightly.

The enemy wasted no words, lowering their lances and charging straight at them!

Hooves thundered and shouts filled the air!

Feng Xiaobao, Yang Chengxian, and Cheng Boxi led twenty riders to meet the masked cavalry head-on, while Yang Debiao and Yang Deyong guarded the wagons and valuables. Tang Tian and Tang Zhizhong stood ready with their bows.

As the two sides drew closer, the arrows sang.

The first silvery flash struck a masked rider in the forehead; an arrow now protruded from his skull as he toppled from the saddle.

Arrow after arrow followed, each one felling man or horse with unerring accuracy. None survived a hit.

In the heat of battle, even the most skilled archers rarely managed more than three arrows before the lines collided, but Tang Tian and Tang Zhizhong fired five each—ten arrows in all—felling ten riders and diminishing the enemy’s strength by a tenth.

“To battle!”

Feng Xiaobao’s bright silver spear shot out like lightning.

The rider charging at him never expected such speed. He reacted a moment too late; with a dull thud, the spear pierced his chest.

Moving swiftly to maintain his balance, Feng Xiaobao flicked his wrist, tossing the unlucky man’s corpse aside—knocking down another rider behind him.

He drew first blood. Cheng Boxi, emboldened, cut down another foe, while Yang Chengxian fought his opponent to a standstill.

Feng Xiaobao guided his horse with composure, cutting a bloody path through the gaps between the masked riders. (Though head-on collisions look thrilling in films, in real combat it was vital to preserve one’s horse; without speed in the chaos, one became easy prey.) His silver spear flashed left and right, weaving a deadly web of steel; with each scream and spray of blood, another life was claimed. He alone slew seven or eight as he charged through.

Cheng Boxi felled two or three, Yang Chengxian surged forward, killing four or five.

It felt exhilarating to kill, but that was the extent of it. The enemy soon regained their composure. Feng Xiaobao and his companions were formidable, but their followers were ordinary, and so were their foes. The enemy, however, had the advantage of numbers.

A handful of skilled riders among them worked in concert, relentlessly harrying the three, while the rest executed a strategy of encirclement and separation, attacking Feng Xiaobao’s men two against one and seizing the initiative.

It was clear the enemy had far more experience.

No one had died in the battle at Xin Du Mountain, but here, in this nameless place, four or five of Feng Xiaobao’s men had already fallen.

“Damn it! Kill, kill, kill!” Feng Xiaobao cursed in frustration. Three or four enemy riders coordinated their attacks on him; though he was a master of the spear, it was hard to parry so many weapons at once.

Yang Chengxian and Cheng Boxi found themselves similarly beleaguered.

This was truly their first real cavalry engagement. Although they had drilled together many times before, practicing tactics and formation, in the chaos of battle all order was forgotten. Their ranks scattered, and each man fought for himself.

Fortunately, they had anticipated such a situation and had a solution ready.

“Make a run for it!” Feng Xiaobao pressed his heels to his horse’s flanks, found a gap in the enemy formation and broke free, killing two more masked riders as he went.

One-on-one, Feng Xiaobao feared no one.

A pursuer chased after him, but was cut down by Feng Xiaobao’s backward thrust; the others dared not follow too closely.

Yang Chengxian and Cheng Boxi, without needing to confer, also spurred their horses and broke out of the encirclement.

The consequence, however, was that their own riders, now bereft of strong support, fell one after another under the enemy’s concentrated assault.

Meanwhile, about thirty enemy riders charged toward Yang Debiao and Yang Deyong, who were protecting the valuables and wagons.