Scout fighting in the mountains was brutally dangerous.
Cheng Xu couldn't help worrying about the ten scouts he'd sent out.
Among them, only Shi Jian had ever learned the basics—he'd once run with salt smugglers and picked up some fieldcraft, and even then he'd only brought two or three experienced brothers along. The rest were first-timers. In terrain like this, mistakes didn't come back for a second try.
And Flat-Rabbit, of all people—please don't turn this into a joke at a moment like this.
Just as the worry peaked, four scouts emerged from the forest, escorting two prisoners. They looked… pleased.
Cheng Xu blinked. "Oh? Looks like the rookies came out ahead."
The four reported, grinning. "Instructor He, we brought back two enemy scouts."
Brought back.
Cheng Xu caught the phrasing immediately. If they were bragging, they'd have said we captured or we killed. "Brought back" meant the credit belonged elsewhere.
He lowered his voice. "Shi Jian caught them?"
"Nope," they said together. "Flat-Rabbit did. He's still ahead. Told us to send the prisoners back first."
"…What?" Cheng Xu stared. "Flat-Rabbit?"
The four chuckled. "That guy's ears are ridiculous. In the forest, he hears movement way before anyone else."
Cheng Xu fell silent.
Is he actually a rabbit?
No time for zoological inquiries. Two prisoners were two opportunities.
After a brief but persuasive conversation involving whips and sticks, the captives confessed everything. Lang Si had led four units of Wang Zuogua's men—around fifteen hundred total—to lie in ambush on the ridge ahead, waiting for the militia to enter the valley. Once they did, the rocks would fall.
Cheng Xu let out a strange little laugh. "Prepare the army. We're night-raiding that bastard Lang Si."
Night attacks were rare in this era. Poor diets meant night blindness was common; most soldiers preferred daylight where they could at least see who was killing them.
But the Gaojia Village militia wasn't night-blind.
Li Dao Xuan had always been particular about their food. They ate well, ate balanced, and from time to time—entirely without explanation—the cooks would grind up strange tablets into powder and mix them into the meals. As a result, very few of them lost their sight after sunset.
With the scout war already won, not launching a night attack would've been disrespectful to the situation.
Once darkness fully fell, Cheng Xu quietly led the army out.
The moon hung bright overhead, but the forest canopy swallowed its light. The militia moved carefully through the trees. Lang Si's sentries on the ridge never noticed a thing.
Partway up the slope, Cheng Xu met Shi Jian.
"Situation ahead?" Cheng Xu whispered.
"We've killed enough of their scouts that the rest panicked and pulled back into camp."
Cheng Xu smiled faintly. "So the outer perimeter is ours now."
Shi Jian nodded.
"And Flat-Rabbit?"
Shi Jian pointed uphill. "Still further ahead. In terrain like this, ears beat eyes. Their scouts can't get near him."
He hesitated, then added, "You don't think he's some kind of rabbit spirit, do you?"
Cheng Xu snorted softly. "If he were, Dao Xuan Tianzun would've dealt with him already. You think monsters can fool a god's eyes?"
"…Fair point."
They continued upward.
Soon, Lang Si's "camp" came into view.
Calling it a camp was generous. It was more accurate to describe it as a large number of bandits clumped together, hoping the night would pass quietly.
Lang Si clearly had no real experience with proper encampment. Over a thousand men sprawled loosely through the forest. A few patrols wandered around halfheartedly; everyone else lounged against trees or lay wherever exhaustion dropped them.
Some looked like textbook "jianghu heroes"—leaning against trunks, swords hugged to their chests, straw hats tipped low. A time traveler might've felt compelled to mutter something poetic about lone shadows and old rivers.
Cheng Xu almost laughed.
He raised a hand. The militia behind him sank silently to the ground. A thousand men, not a sound.
In discipline alone, they outclassed the bandits by several lifetimes.
Cheng Xu summoned the ten hundred-man captains, whispered orders, then grinned. "Prepare to move."
Down below, Lang Si sat beneath a tree, his mood sour.
Losing the scout fight meant the Bai Fortress militia already knew they were here. The valley ambush was dead before it was born.
He cursed loudly. "Our scouts are all seasoned greenwood men! How the hell did they lose in the forest to a bunch of manor guards? You idiots—did you wander the jianghu for sightseeing?"
The squad leaders nearby stood there, taking it in silence, faces burning.
Losing a straight fight could be excused—they weren't trained soldiers, after all. But losing at sneaking, listening, and ambushing? That was supposed to be their home turf.
One squad leader muttered, "Tomorrow at dawn, we stop playing tricks and just fight them head-on."
Lang Si rolled his eyes. "Fight what? We've got fifteen hundred, they've got about a thousand. That's not a sure win. We wait for First, Second, and Third Brothers to close in from the other sides. Four directions at once—that's how you guarantee the outcome."
He'd barely finished speaking when something dark flew through the trees.
It landed among them with a dull thump.
It looked like a small iron club, with a burning fuse hissing softly.
Several squad leaders frowned. "What's that?"
Lang Si didn't answer.
He dove.
"BOOM!"
The grenade exploded.
Iron pellets and jagged fragments ripped outward. The squad leaders didn't even finish processing the question before their bodies collapsed, thoughts ending mid-sentence.
At the same moment, explosions erupted throughout the forest.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
Dozens in an instant.
Night had arrived on time.