Chapter 675: Don't You Squawk at Me. Am I Afraid of You?
Fan Shangzheng suddenly realized something: these rebels carried a different aura than before.
"They're not planning to flee!"
"They're actively approaching."
"What the hell does this mean?"
"Do these rebels truly intend to engage us in a head-on battle?"
A wave of panic swept through the Ming soldiers, an uncontrollable terror seizing them in an instant.
Below, the Eight Great Kings of the South Camp raised a hand, and five hundred hecklers fanned out, roaring in unison: "Fan Shangzheng, Governor of Henan! I, your grandpa, the Eight Great Kings of the South Camp, have come today to demand grain!"
Fan Shangzheng stared, aghast.
He had never witnessed such insolent rebels before.
"Fail to do so, and when this city falls, we will slaughter every last one of you, leaving not even a chicken or a dog alive."
The five hundred hecklers, formidable in their clamor, created an imposing spectacle.
Their unified shouts instantly drained the color from everyone's faces.
Fan Shangzheng shrieked, "Waugh! This official is absolutely furious! How dare these bandits be so arrogant!"
The Eight Great Kings of the South Camp burst into laughter. "Don't you dare squawk at me! Do you think I'm afraid of a paltry governor like you?"
As a civil official, he hadn't yet grasped the gravity of the situation.
But the military officers felt a growing dread.
The officers understood clearly that warfare hinged on morale. Previously, the rebels would flee at the sight of government troops because their morale was shattered. Now, however, the rebels' fighting spirit seemed to have surged, while it was the government soldiers who were losing heart.
Fortunately, Chen Yuanbo had prepared in advance, instructing laborers to reinforce the city walls. Otherwise, Wenshui County would have been utterly defenseless, and the soldiers' morale would have collapsed even faster.
Yet these walls were barely two meters high. Any officer with even a rudimentary understanding of warfare felt a pang of fear the moment they stood atop them.
"How could anyone defend a wall this low?"
The rebels could simply stack bodies and clamber over.
Fear, cold and insidious, immediately spread through every heart.
Many officers, who had been pocketing military funds to privately retain their own household guards, called them close, forming tight knots. If the battle turned sour, they would rely on these personal retainers to cut a path through the encirclement and escape with their lives.
Fan Shangzheng's own guards instinctively huddled closer to their master. *This lord is truly difficult to manage,* they thought. *Even now, with disaster looming, he remains oblivious, still hopping mad and cursing the rebels.*
The Eight Great Kings of the South Camp watched with cold eyes, perceiving the government soldiers' wavering resolve.
*Excellent!* he thought, secretly pleased. *The Henan garrisons are as easily intimidated as ever.*
"Before, the imperial troops chased *us*," he mused. "Now, it's *our* turn to chase *them*."
"Prepare for the assault!"
At the roaring command of the Eight Great Kings of the South Camp, the rebel army stirred. Slowly, deliberately, they began to press forward towards Wenshui County.
Fan Shangzheng fumed, "Outrageous! Unbelievably audacious! Everyone, prepare to engage the enemy—"
He hadn't even finished his sentence when he suddenly saw it: the five hundred government soldiers arrayed on the far right of the wall abruptly spun around and fled.
Fan Shangzheng froze for a brief, disoriented moment before he finally reacted. "Commander Guan, how... how dare you abandon your post and flee the battlefield when I, the Governor, am right here?"
Commander Guan ignored him completely, turning tail and running.
Though a governor held immense authority, he was, after all, merely a civil official and could do little to directly stop him. At most, a report would be filed against him later. With his connections at court, Commander Guan might not even face execution, perhaps just a demotion. But if he didn't flee today, he would likely die right here.
The choice was not difficult; fleeing was, of course, the obvious answer.
Commander Guan and his five hundred-plus men moved with astonishing speed, like ghosts gliding over water, reaching the South Gate in an instant, throwing it open, and vanishing through.
His desertion set a terrible precedent. Soon, another five hundred men on the left side of the wall abandoned their positions and bolted.
Then another five hundred from the front... and five hundred more from the left...
When a large army begins to collapse, even the slightest crack can rapidly spread to engulf the entire force.
In mere moments, all three thousand men Fan Shangzheng had brought with him were in full flight.
Fan Shangzheng, as a civil official, had initially stood at the very rear to maintain order. But as soon as the first men fled, the crowd surged past him like a river. He and his household guards were like rocks in a stream, parting the current as it flowed around their sides and retreated behind them.
Fan Shangzheng bellowed, "How can you all be so craven?"
But no one listened; everyone was running.
In a flash, he and his household guards found themselves standing at the very front of the battlefield.
His hands trembled, and for a moment he couldn't speak, his entire body frozen in shock.
Seeing this scene, the rebels erupted in cheers. "Hahaha, the government troops are fleeing!"
"Weren't you so arrogant before?"
"Chasing us day in and day out! Now it's your turn to run, isn't it?"
"Hahahaha! Storm Wenshui County and chop the heads off those corrupt officials!"
The rebels, still slowly advancing, grew even more boisterous.
Fan Shangzheng did not flee. Instead, he took a few bewildered steps forward, climbing onto the city wall. Staring out at the slowly approaching rebels, he sank into utter despair.
His guards shrieked beside him, "Master, run!"
"Master, abandon the city and leave!"
"Master, the rebels are getting closer! Flee!"
Fan Shangzheng said nothing, simply standing there, lost in a daze.
Just then, a solemn song began to echo from not far away, sung by a young man: "Let our weak selves learn cruelty, to fiercely face life's every chill..."
Fan Shangzheng turned his head, bewildered, and saw Great Hero Xiao Qiushui standing on the city wall, even closer to the edge than himself.
He had no idea where Great Hero Xiao Qiushui had drawn a curved saber from, but he now held it aloft, facing the tens of thousands of rebels slowly pressing forward.
Fan Shangzheng asked foolishly, "Great Hero Xiao, what are you doing?"
Li Daoxuan replied, "I'm reenacting a scene: a man, alone, facing an army of thousands charging at him, raising his saber. So cool!"
Fan Shangzheng was speechless.
Li Daoxuan asked, "Was I cool just now?"
Fan Shangzheng remained speechless.
At that very moment, hundreds of arquebusiers suddenly appeared behind Li Daoxuan, swiftly filling the gaps left by the fleeing government soldiers.
The city wall, only two meters high, was woefully inadequate for soldiers defending with cold steel. But for the arquebusiers, this wall was absolutely perfect, infinitely superior to any defensive line made of sandbags.
The arquebusiers' morale was sky-high, a stark contrast to the scattered, fleeing government troops.
Fan Shangzheng gasped, "Huh? These are militia? Where did they come from?"
His guard whispered, "Master, they emerged from those colorful tents. It seems those strange tents were their military encampment."
Fan Shangzheng's eyes widened in disbelief.
Li Daoxuan, looking impossibly cool, pointed his saber forward, and opened his mouth as if to issue an order. But then, he suddenly spun around and said to the actual captain of the unit, "You take command!"
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