The sun had not yet risen; only a pale shimmer touched the sky. On Baijia Fort's corner tower, the sentry hammered the bamboo alarm tube.
Dong-dong-dong!
The hollow sound rolled across the entire fort.
Bai Yuan and Inspector Cheng Xu jolted awake at the same instant. They practically bounced off their beds and sprinted toward the tower.
Staring north toward Huanglong Mountain, they immediately saw it—
A black tide of bandits pouring down the slopes.
Not from a single path, but from many, like muddy floodwater after a storm spilling from every creek toward the valley below.
"So many…" Bai Yuan swallowed. "Is that… thousands? I can't even estimate."
"One thousand five hundred."
Cheng Xu needed only one glance. "Quite a crowd."
Bai Yuan frowned. "I heard there were five or six thousand bandits up there. Why only fifteen hundred?"
"Half are old folks, kids, and women," Cheng Xu said. "Only about three thousand can fight. And those three thousand belong to two different groups—Luochuan's Bu Zhan Ni, Yichuan's Zuo Gua Zi. They don't always cooperate. Today's only one group."
Bai Yuan blinked. So the court's officers did get better intel. He had never even heard this before.
Cheng Xu gave a nervous hum.
"Even fifteen hundred is trouble. These two groups have ravaged Luochuan and Yichuan for months. Much stronger than the Wushang Mingwang you fought before."
The bravado in his voice faded just as quickly.
He squinted at the descending bandits. In the middle of the mob stood a gray-clothed figure who—apparently—looked up and smiled at him.
A wrinkled smile.
Familiar.
Too familiar.
His great-grandmother.
She mouthed something at him. If he read the lips correctly:
"My good little great-grandson… come and keep me company…"
Cheng Xu's skin crawled. He shook his head violently and looked again.
Of course, the figure was far too distant to make out. The face he saw was pure hallucination.
"I saw old great-grandma… this battle is cursed," he muttered.
Retreat instincts activated.
He leaned toward his deputy and whispered, "Pass the word quietly. When I give the order, open the south gate and run. Understood?"
The deputy nodded. "Understood, sir."
Bai Yuan shot them a sideways look. He pretended not to hear, then turned to his trusted retainer.
"The bandits are descending. Villagers will come flooding here soon. Open the gates. Anyone we recognize—let them in. Strangers—keep them out."
And just as he predicted, villagers appeared in droves—old, young, carrying bundles stuffed with whatever valuables they could salvage.
When Wushang Mingwang raided last time, both the Bai Family and the nearby villagers had been caught unprepared. The slaughter was heavy, and the fort was ransacked.
But not this time.
This time Bai Yuan had prepared everything and warned everyone early.
So the villagers had their belongings ready in advance. At the first sight of bandits, they grabbed their kids and elders and ran straight to Baijia Fort.
Everyone knew everyone. Screening was fast. Soon the entire community was inside.
The elderly and infirm were settled indoors. The able-bodied young men grabbed the bamboo spears stored in the warehouse and took their assigned positions.
The strong village women gathered by the piles of logs and stones, ready to roll them down on attackers.
Baijia Fort instantly transformed into a bristling hedgehog.
Cheng Xu watched all this unfold and couldn't help but mutter,
"Huh… Bai Yuan looks like he actually knows how to fight."
The deputy whispered, "He fought three battles recently. Lost once to Wushang Mingwang, won once, and took down Zheng Yanfu and Zhong Guangdao… He's basically an experienced militia officer now."
Cheng Xu scoffed, "The last one doesn't count! The ghosts of Gaojia Village helped!"
"Er… well…"
Bai Yuan counted his strength:
Twenty personal retainers—his elite core.
Seventy-seven militiamen—the main force.
One hundred twenty random sturdy villagers—the extra meat on the bones.
Eighty strong women—log-rolling specialists.
He knew today would be brutal. With this tiny force and their low walls, resisting three thousand bandits was nearly hopeless. Everything depended on one thing:
Whether Cheng Xu ran.
If Cheng Xu held the line, there was hope.
If he bolted, the battle was over.
So Bai Yuan needed to seize the momentum from the start—make the inspector feel victory was possible. The moment Cheng Xu sensed defeat, he'd flee with his soldiers and doom them all.
"The bandits have formed up!" the tower sentry shouted.
Bai Yuan and Cheng Xu looked north. The fifteen hundred bandits had formed three… piles. Not formations. Piles. Crooked, messy, disorganized heaps.
At the rear stood the fiercest group, holding a tattered banner with a single giant character: Ni.
"That's Bu Zhan Ni's group," Cheng Xu said. "So the two piles in front must be his lieutenants—Shuang Chi Hu and Zijin Long."
Bai Yuan's face tightened. He snapped open his fan and lifted it to hide his suddenly pale expression.
"These bandits… who names themselves like this? These names are awful."
Cheng Xu sighed.
"Bandits take nicknames to hide their real names. Rebellion means nine clans executed."
"Even bandits know how to protect their families. How touching," Bai Yuan sniffed.
"Stop being sarcastic. They're coming."
At that, tension spiked.
Shuang Chi Hu—quick as his nickname implied—let out a shout and charged with five hundred men. No speeches, no posturing, just immediate attack.
Cheng Xu instantly slid half a step backward, ready to run.
Bai Yuan stepped forward instead, shouting:
"Catapults! Giant crossbows! On my command!"
The Bai Family retainers and militia shouted in unison,
"Yes, sir!"
Cheng Xu glanced left, then right.
Damn it…
Their morale was higher than his own soldiers'.
Footnotes
Bamboo Alarm Tubes — Historically used as early warning devices; their hollow resonance could travel far across villages.
Bu Zhan Ni — A real-style nickname following bandit naming conventions of the era: coarse, memorable, and deliberately intimidating.
Village Fort Defense — Many rural clans built fortified estates; mobilizing women for log-rolling defense was common practice.
Shuang Chi Hu & Zijin Long — Bandit lieutenants often adopted animal/metallic nicknames, partly for intimidation, partly for anonymity.
Nine-Clan Execution — Under imperial law, severe treason could implicate and execute up to nine generations/relations of a family.