The first wave of "returning home bandits" to reach Gaojia Village came through Chengcheng County, entering from Zhengjia Village.
Their leader went by the nickname Niu Nian, a local from Chengcheng County.
He was an old hand at rebellion. Back in the seventh year of Tianqi, when Wang Er of Baishui rose up, Niu Nian had followed him with more than forty fellow villagers. From then on, it was a life of drifting battles and borrowed banners—classic roaming banditry. Later, when Wang Er was killed by Cheng Xu and his severed head was hung on the gates of Chengcheng County, the rebellion collapsed almost overnight.
Niu Nian took one look at the situation and decided Chengcheng was no longer safe. He fled to neighboring Heyang County, bounced around for a while, and eventually fell in with Fanshan Yue.
A few days ago, Fanshan Yue accepted the court's "amnesty." Overnight, the bandit chief became an official—Heyang Garrison Commander, no less. His forces were dismissed, most of his men told to "return home and live honestly."
So Niu Nian had no choice but to head back toward Chengcheng County himself.
The mountain slope in front of them—once they crossed it, they would reach Zhengjia Village.
As he walked, Niu Nian's mind churned.
What now?
Sure, the rebellion charge had been wiped clean on paper. But farming? Don't be ridiculous. The drought was still here. You could plant prayers and harvest dust.
A subordinate crept up beside him and whispered, "Boss… look. Zhengjia Village doesn't seem to have been hit. The fields on the slope—there's green growing."
Niu Nian looked.
And froze.
It was early autumn of the second year of Chongzhen. The crops were nearly ready for harvest—thick, healthy, unmistakably alive. One glance told you this was going to be a good year.
Niu Nian's eyes lit up. "It rained in Chengcheng?"
The subordinate lowered his voice even more. "If we hit a village like that… we'd make a killing."
Niu Nian hesitated.
Right there—balanced delicately between being a decent human and being who he actually was.
Then—
A force appeared ahead.
Five hundred soldiers.
Not a massive army, but the pressure they gave off was enough to tighten throats. Every man wore armor. Firearms, spears, crossbows—fully armed, fully disciplined. Not the kind of people you "tested."
At the front stood a masked general in mountain-pattern armor. His tone was almost friendly.
"You're from Fanshan Yue's command? Returning home after accepting amnesty?"
Niu Nian felt his spine go cold and nodded fast. "Yes. Yes!"
Cheng Xu chuckled. "Good. If you're amnestied civilians now, then you get to eat."
He waved a hand. A cooking detail stepped forward and set down massive iron cauldrons. Inside—hot, cooked food, steam rising, the smell unmistakably real.
Niu Nian and his men almost wept on the spot.
Then Cheng Xu's voice dropped half a degree. Not louder. Just heavier.
"But if anyone here still has ideas about stealing, killing, or making trouble—"
He smiled beneath the mask. "—our weapons aren't decorative."
Niu Nian didn't need that explained twice. One look at this army was enough to kill any criminal ambition before it hatched. He immediately ordered his men to eat properly and behave like humans.
While they ate, Cheng Xu drifted over and stood beside him.
"You're their leader?"
Niu Nian nodded. "We've been drifting together for over a year."
Cheng Xu gave a knowing laugh. "Lost, aren't you? Go home, can't farm. Don't rebel, can't survive."
Niu Nian's expression stiffened. He hurriedly denied it. "No, no. We'll farm. Properly."
Cheng Xu looked at him. "You know you can't."
"..."
Cheng Xu patted his shoulder—hard, twice. "Instead of following Fanshan Yue, why not follow me? I guarantee full stomachs, warm clothes, good weapons, good armor. Compared to that—Fanshan Yue isn't even in the same league."
That scared Niu Nian more than the army had.
"Huh? I thought you were a court general. Why does that sound like—are you a bandit too? Which banner are you under? Wang Zuo of Yichuan? Bu Zhan Ni of Luochuan?"
Cheng Xu grinned. "He Jiu of Gaojia Village."
That title sounded… wrong.
Niu Nian felt an invisible mountain settle onto his shoulders.
He looked again at the armor, the weapons, the discipline. Gritted his teeth.
"Fine. I'm in."
Meanwhile, at Shijia Gully.
Another group of returning bandits arrived—but this one was much larger. Over three hundred men. Their leader went by Ni Wa, a ruthless lieutenant under Fanshan Yue.
Just like Cheng Xu, lao nanfeng brought out food and fed them until they were full. He even offered them a place with Gaojia Village—food, clothes, stability.
Ni Wa smiled strangely. "Sounds good. We'd like a good life too."
As he spoke, he casually turned his hand behind his back and made a slicing gesture across his throat.
One of his men slipped away into the crowd, whispering to squad leaders.
"When the boss gives the signal, move. Kill all these so-called Gaojia people."
"They fed us. We're really killing them?"
The messenger sneered. "Why let them give us grain when we can take it and divide it ourselves?"
That logic landed cleanly.
"Besides," someone chuckled, "what's more glorious than killing our way back home?"
The three hundred men had just eaten. Strength returned. The plan was set.
They quietly closed in, weapons ready, forming a loose encirclement.
Everything was charged and waiting—just one word.
Ni Wa slung an arm around lao nanfeng's shoulder like an old brother. "Brother Nan Feng, you people really are from Gaojia Village?"
"Yes," lao nanfeng replied calmly. "Want to join us? Food and clothes, steady days."
Ni Wa burst out laughing. "Got it. We'll head to Gaojia Village soon—"
His voice suddenly turned sharp.
"—and loot it dry!"
The word fell.
Steel flashed.
Ni Wa's free hand drew his blade and slashed straight toward lao nanfeng's face.
At the same instant, three hundred men surged forward.
Ni Wa was confident. Too confident.
Because lao nanfeng had already been waiting.
He caught Ni Wa's sword hand, twisted gently—almost lazily. The blade spun once and thup—cut backward across Ni Wa's own throat.
Blood from the artery sprayed half a zhang.
The three hundred attackers froze mid-charge, staring.
Lao nanfeng snorted and roared, his voice carrying like iron.
"Kill them. Kill them all."
One hundred hardened border troops answered in unison—and charged.
Notes & Context
[1] "Accepting amnesty" (招抚 / 招安)
In the late Ming, bandit leaders were often absorbed into the state during manpower crises. Amnesty erased crimes on paper, but trust was thin—and many "converted" forces simply waited for a better opportunity.
[2] Why green fields matter
In drought-era North China, a single rain-fed village could mean survival. Such places became magnets for both refugees and violence.
[3] Food before loyalty
Historically, many armies—bandit or official—secured allegiance by feeding people first. Hunger decided ideology faster than speeches.
[4] Encirclement after feeding
A classic bandit tactic: eat to recover strength, then strike when the host relaxes. It failed here because lao nanfeng treated generosity as procedure, not trust.
[5] "Kill them all" discipline
Against numerically superior but disorganized foes, Ming border troops favored immediate, total counterattack to prevent regrouping—hesitation meant casualties.