Chapter 158 The Heyang Bandits Are Here
The newly appointed military inspector, Fang Wushang, leading the more than one hundred soldiers Cheng Xu had left him, began patrolling the villages along the border of Chengcheng County and Heyang County.
The two counties shared a vast, extensive border.
Fang Wushang didn't know where the bandit army would strike from, so he dispatched scouts to reconnoiter everywhere, bribed mountain hunters to relay information, and sent men to various villages along the border to gather intelligence.
Beisi Village, Shijia Ditch, Bangou Village, Beipo Village, Quangou Village, Lijiahe Village...
Fang Wushang's presence was felt everywhere!
The new inspector was quite diligent; calling him a Labor Model wouldn't be an exaggeration.
However, he was an "outsider official," newly arrived and unfamiliar with both Chengcheng and Heyang counties. He couldn't guess where the bandit army would come from, so he consulted Liang Shixian for advice: "Master Liang, you arrived a few months before me. Could you tell me where the bandit army is most likely to enter Chengcheng County?"
Liang Shixian was also new to the area, but when asked, he naturally had to respond.
He needed to think carefully!
Quangou Village!
Quangou Village was located precisely between Chengcheng County town and Heyang County town. The shortest distance between two points is a straight line, and this village was certainly an unavoidable route for the bandits.
And so, Fang Wushang stationed himself in Quangou Village, living off the wealthy families of Quangou Village. With several local gentry-organized militia groups joining him, soldiers and militia united, awaiting the bandit army.
Zhengjia Village.
A mountain range running north to south, like a "three-eight line" drawn with stationery on a middle school desk, divided Chengcheng County and Heyang County into two halves.
A boy's hand would never dare cross that "three-eight line," but a girl's hand could reach over freely.
Zhengjia Village lay precisely on this dividing line.
Two salt smugglers, Old Zhu and Old Zhang, accompanied by two rookies from the Gao Family Village militia, sat on a hillside by the dividing line, gazing at the lifeless trees on the eastern slope.
After three years of severe drought, the trees hadn't all died, but they looked utterly deflated.
A spring breeze swept across the hilltop, carrying a biting chill. The two salt smugglers, lightly dressed, couldn't help but shiver, but the two rookie militia members from Gao Family Village seemed completely unfazed.
"You two eat pretty well, don't you? Not even afraid of the cold," Old Zhu couldn't help but comment.
"Heh, thanks to the Heavenly Lord's blessings, we eat decently," the militia rookie chuckled. "After joining the militia, we eat even better. The Heavenly Lord says that with daily high-intensity training, we must eat very well every day, otherwise, our nutrition won't keep up."
"What does 'nutrition' mean?" Old Zhu asked.
"No idea!" the militia rookie laughed. "We don't understand it, but why bother with the details?"
Old Zhu chuckled. "True enough. As long as there's good food, who cares about the rest?"
The militia rookie pulled two dried beef jerky sticks from his satchel and handed them to the two salt smugglers. "Here, chew on these," he offered. "A gift from the Heavenly Lord."
The two smugglers rejoiced, quickly taking them. Dried beef jerky – what a damn good thing! One bite and they were soaring with delight.
Just then, Old Zhu's expression abruptly changed. He tucked the half-eaten beef jerky stick into his satchel and whispered, "They're here. The bandits are here."
The two militia rookies quickly followed his gaze.
Below the hillside, the vanguard of a troop appeared, arrayed in a "long serpent formation." Their attire was tattered and ragged, and their weapons a motley assortment – pot lids and shovels all accounted for.
The two militia rookies jumped in fright. "Damn it, they really came! Why do these bandits have to come here? Wouldn't it be better to go to where Inspector Fang is stationed?"
Old Zhu let out a "heh" and said, "No wonder they're coming here. I see a familiar face."
The two militia rookies echoed, "Familiar face?"
Old Zhu whispered, "The one who wounded our boss – that fellow's name is Er Chun. We ran into him recently in a small village near Heyang County. We fought them, and our thirty or forty men routed three hundred of his. Our boss even landed a blow on Er Chun, but that guy is also a ruthless one; he injured our boss's arm."
The two militia rookies were startled. "So what do we do now? We're up high, they're down low. Should we grab some rocks and hurl them down?"
Old Zhu chuckled, chiding, "Don't be foolish. We're scouts; our only job is reconnaissance. Whether to fight or how to fight isn't for scouts to order. What we need to do is keep three people here to continue watching them and send one back to deliver the message."
The two militia rookies certainly learned a lesson. One of them raised his hand. "I'll go back and report."
"If you go, you won't learn anything," Old Zhu waved. "Old Zhang, you go back and report. I'll continue to guide these two little rookies."
Old Zhang grinned broadly. "Alright then, I'll head back first." He stretched out his long legs and began jogging rapidly toward Gao Family Village.
Old Zhu continued to guide the two rookies, his eyes fixed on the bandit army slowly climbing up the eastern slope. His gaze locked onto the leader in the middle of the bandits – Er Chun. The man still had a cloth bandage on his arm; it seemed his wound hadn't healed yet.
Li Daoxuan, cradling a bowl of braised beef noodles, was slurping down the strands while contemplating entertainment issues.
After a period of deep thought, he had a rough plan. Illustrated storybooks!
Anyone who grew up in the seventies and eighties would have seen something called an 'illustrated storybook' in their childhood. These books were only palm-sized, contained almost no text, and told their stories entirely through pictures, allowing even those who couldn't read many characters to enjoy them thoroughly.
They not only provided entertainment but also offered a degree of educational benefit.
He quickly pulled out his phone and called his dad. "Dad, I want to ask you for something."
"What do you want?"
"Illustrated storybooks. I remember seeing them at home when I was little. You have the complete set of the *Yang Family Generals* illustrated storybooks, right? Are you still keeping them? I'd like to take a look."
"They're still perfectly preserved. They're your dad's treasures, you know."
"That's good. Then I'll pack them up and take them."
"Hey, you can have them, but be careful when you look through them. If you damage a single page, I'll break your—" "Got it, I promise not to damage them!"
Hanging up the phone, he was about to head out to catch a taxi to his dad's place and pack up the illustrated storybooks when he suddenly saw a tiny figure run onto the concrete road in the upper-right corner of his field of vision. That was the path leading to Zhengjia Village.
Looking closely, the tiny figure was one of Xing Honglang's salt smugglers, dispatched as a scout. Li Daoxuan couldn't recall his name; there were over a thousand tiny people in the village now, and he only remembered those "written in the immortal's heart"; most of the others were a blur.
Li Daoxuan's heart stirred slightly. "It seems the Heyang bandits are here!"
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