Gao Chuwu did not answer Xing Honglang's question—mainly because the man was desperately clinging to his personal record of fifty lines of bickering. If he opened his mouth now, the count would fall apart, and then what was the point of the whole argument?
So instead he spun on his heel and charged toward the mouth of the ravine—the only slope where anyone still had a chance of climbing up alive.
A moment earlier, Erchun and Sui Fengxiong had both scrambled up that same slope, giving the bandits behind them a dangerous flicker of hope. With rolling logs crashing down on both flanks, the incoming bandits fixed their eyes on this one spot and hurled themselves upward.
But then—
A thunderous shout split the air:
"Chuwu! Slow down, you big ox!"
The bandits looked up.
A man stood at the top of the slope.
No—a wall of a man.
Broader than a bear, wrapped in two-layer armor, arms spread like a gate that said:
"Trespassers will be flattened."
His mere presence made people reconsider breathing.
One brave idiot reached him first and slashed—clang!
His blade bounced harmlessly off Gao Chuwu's armor.
Chuwu answered with one friendly punch.
The bandit left the slope airborne and rolled all the way back down like a boulder with regrets.
The bandits immediately understood:
"This guy fights like he's drunk—but the strength is terrifying."
"Hit his legs!" someone yelled. "Armor doesn't protect the lower half!"
A bandit charged in, blade sweeping low.
Gao Chuwu panicked—because he'd run out of ways to panic—and the blade was about to connect when a shadow flashed beside him.
Xing Honglang.
Her left hand lifted, parried cleanly—clang!—and Gao Chuwu followed with a mighty kick that sent the bandit spinning like laundry on a line.
Xing Honglang snapped,
"Are you stupid? You've got a spear and you're punching people?"
Gao Chuwu blinked, enlightened.
Right. He did have a spear.
Had it on his back the whole time.
Oops.
He yanked it free and swept horizontally:
"Da Niu! Heads up! I'm throwing the wine jars soon!"
He had no technique—just two moves drilled by Cheng Xu: sweep and stab.
But strength is a technique of its own, and that sweeping strike forced the bandits to stumble back in terror.
Stumbling backward on a slope goes exactly how you'd expect:
One misstep, and bodies rolled down like loose potatoes, flattening the unlucky behind them.
More tried climbing.
Chuwu kept swinging left, swinging right, sweeping everything in reach.
Within several meters of him, no one stayed upright long enough to regret their choices.
With the slope held, the bandits again became perfect targets.
Rolling logs crashed down.
Screams echoed up the ravine.
Morale collapsed.
Someone finally shouted:
"Retreat!"
The rest didn't need encouragement.
They turned and fled.
The salt-smugglers erupted into cheers.
Xing Honglang bared her teeth in a grin, glanced once at the retreating bandits, once at Erchun's corpse—
Yes. Revenge accomplished.
Worth every drop of sweat.
Gao Chuwu laughed triumphantly:
"Chuwu! Your brain is pig-level stupid!"
Xing Honglang:
"…What?"
Gao Chuwu announced proudly:
"Fifty lines of bickering completed. I'm done. Bye."
He ran off immediately, long legs windmilling, vanishing in a gust of wind.
Xing Honglang's fists bulged with veins.
"Next time I see that idiot, I'm punching him into next spring."
Meanwhile, on the other side—
Cheng Xu was gently nudging logs downhill like a man enjoying a leisurely afternoon game.
Fan Shan Yue showed he at least possessed half a brain this time.
Instead of sending his main force straight up the mountain, he dispatched a few hundred men who advanced slowly, hiding behind rocks, inching upward like children playing hide-and-seek.
Slow, yes.
But effective—since Cheng Xu clearly had only a few people on the peak.
If two or three hundred bandits made contact, the defenders wouldn't be able to keep throwing logs, and the main force could flood up afterward.
Besides, he still had Sui Fengxiong and Erchun's flanking party circling the back.
If they succeeded, the result was the same.
Fan Shan Yue was calm.
Completely confident.
After all—
"I have eight thousand men. How do I lose?"
Cheng Xu watched the tiny dots creeping upward and snorted.
"Two or three hundred? Hiding behind rocks? Sure. Come closer. The moment you enter crossbow range, my boys will give you a proper welcome…"
He was in the middle of crafting an undoubtedly brilliant plan when—
Gao Chuwu came running up:
"He-jiao-xi! I'm back! Fifty lines completed!"
Cheng Xu:
"Mm. Return to formation."
Gao Chuwu continued,
"On the way back I saw officers marching up from the southern pass. Real officers."
Cheng Xu blinked—
Ah.
The new xunjian, Fang Wushang, had arrived.
A hardworking one, it seemed.
The moment he heard bandits entered Chengcheng County, he rushed over.
Bold fellow.
Almost admirable.
Cheng Xu glanced at his men—each one armored from head to toe.
If Fang Wushang saw this, it would look an awful lot like treason.
Better let the official take the credit today.
He raised his arm and shouted:
"Everyone stop! Retreat immediately!"
The troops froze.
Flat-Rabbit muttered,
"But I'm just getting warmed up…"
Cheng Xu kicked him so cleanly he flipped like a dropped pancake.
"When I speak, you answer 'Yes, sir.' Anything else is illegal."
"YES, SIR!" everyone shouted instantly.
Poor Flat-Rabbit remained the example of the day, face in the dirt.
"Move! Retreat! And someone drag Xing Honglang's people back with us!"
They soon regrouped.
Xing Honglang had already spotted the incoming officers and wasn't surprised by the retreat. She grinned,
"Let's not go far. If the officers can't hold, we'll jump back in."
Cheng Xu agreed and pointed toward the rocky west slope of Zhengjia Village.
"Hide there and watch."
They settled in among the jagged stones—nearly impossible to spot.
The moment they pulled back, the bandits climbing the slope perked up.
"No more rolling logs!"
"They're out of logs!"
"Charge!"
The Heyang bandits surged upward.
At the same time—
Fang Wushang, the new xunjian, was also shouting:
"Faster! Hear that fighting up ahead? The militia's already engaged! We have to support them!"
Over a hundred officers raced forward.
And right then—
The first batch of bandits crested the slope.
Without logs raining down, they scrambled up quickly—until they saw something unexpected:
A large, lush wheat field.
"Huh? Wheat?"
"Wheat!"
With the enthusiasm of men who had never respected private property, the bandits charged straight toward the field.
Footnotes
Two-layer armor (liangdang jia) — A historical style of overlapping cuirass plates; heavy, unwieldy, but excellent for bullying people on slopes.
Xunjian (巡檢) — A county-level officer responsible for policing, patrol duties, and rapid response to banditry. Most historical ones avoided danger. Fang Wushang is clearly the dangerous type: hardworking.
Salt-smugglers — In many dynasties, salt was a government monopoly. Smuggling was common and punishable, which ironically made smugglers extremely good at fighting.
Slope fighting reality — Historically, charging uphill into defenders with logs is one of the worst tactical decisions possible. Bandits here show textbook accuracy in "how not to fight."
On Gao Chuwu's "fifty lines of bickering" rule — A running joke illustrating how warriors with enormous strength and minimal brain sometimes function better with personal rituals.