Bai Yuzhu stood aboard a medium-sized merchant vessel, staring up at the cavalry arrayed atop the cliff. His brow tightened into a deep knot.
He had thought taking a shabby little county would be as easy as storming a granary.
Who could have guessed he'd first be schooled by cannons and gunpowder, then see his flanking troops crushed by cavalry?
That one stung.
"Damn it," he snarled, "this little Heyang County really wants to humiliate me? Fine! I don't believe they've got endless gunpowder to burn. Today, I'll smash that pier if it kills me!"
He turned to his officers.
"Pass the word. Everyone rests for now. That last push rattled them—let morale settle. Once they've got their breath back, we go again. Next wave—all boats together. The front line rams the pier; the rest stay behind and use the lead ships as bridges. Charge straight across!"
The outlaws chorused assent.
The assault eased. The boats already wedged at the pier pulled back upstream.
Ordinarily, the Yellow River's current would sweep any vessel away, but this stretch curved into a backwater bend—a pouch-shaped inlet where the flow slackened just enough for ships to idle.
They drifted gently in circles, and when they slipped downstream, the oarsmen only had to pull a few strokes to hold position.
So now the two sides paused—one on land, one on water—each catching its breath.
Feng Jun frowned.
"The bandits dare to anchor there so brazenly? Do they take the magistrate's seal for decoration?"
Bai Yuan spread his hands.
"Well, the court is empty. General Wang Cheng'en's off in the capital, playing loyalist hero for the emperor."
Feng Jun forced an awkward chuckle.
"Still, since the bandits are resting, why not fire your cannons? Give them no peace!"
Bai Yuan sighed.
"The gunpowder's gone."
A fresh trickle of nosebleed slid from Feng Jun's nostrils.
"Gone? After only a few volleys?"
Bai Yuan shrugged.
"Flat Rabbit and the others threw it all as hand bombs. Much faster than loading cannons. One minute we had barrels—next minute, nothing left. I didn't even get to practice my marksmanship."
"…"
The silence was thick enough to chew.
Feng Jun's nerves twitched.
"Without gunpowder, how will we hold off the next assault?"
Bai Yuan glanced northwest, lips curling.
"Oh, we won't have to."
Feng Jun blinked. "What do you mean?"
"The Gaojia Militia—has arrived."
Bai Yuan laughed. "Magistrate Feng, let your men fall back and rest. Let's watch how Gaojia fights."
The Gaojia Village Militia rolled in like a tide.
At its head rode a commander in mountain-pattern lamellar armor, face masked—Cheng Xu himself.
Behind him marched fifteen hundred soldiers:
five hundred firearm troops, two hundred grenadiers, and eight hundred armed with traditional weapons.
For Wang Er, this was his first glimpse of Gaojia's full strength. His jaw dropped in awe—and maybe a touch of glee. So this is Gaojia's power?
As for Feng Jun, one glance made his scalp prickle.
So many in armor. So many carrying firearms.
If only a few villagers had weapons, that could be passed off as self-defense—civilians arming themselves against bandits. The court might turn a blind eye.
But this… this was an army.
He dabbed a finger in his own nosebleed, hesitated over what mark to draw this time, and ended up smearing it into a random red blot across his cheeks—a tragic bureaucratic war-mask.
Grinding his teeth, he shouted,
"Heyang Militia—withdraw and rest! The defense of Qiachuan Pier is now under Gaojia Village!"
Cheng Xu approached and raised his hand.
No need for extra words.
The Gaojia soldiers broke automatically into companies, each finding its station.
The firearm troops stayed low behind the stockade, forming precise ranks.
The grenadiers and archers climbed the palisades and towers.
Interestingly, the ten earliest Gaojia gunners—the ones who had first used three-barrel spirit-guns—didn't join the firearm line.
Each carried a bird firearm and scaled the towers with the archers.
Bai Yuan noticed.
"Heh? Instructor He, why aren't those gunners in formation?"
Cheng Xu grinned.
"They're using rifled firearms."
Bai Yuan nodded, enlightened.
Rifling meant precision. No need for volley lines or mass firing—they could fight like archers, picking targets freely.
"In that case," Bai Yuan mused, "they deserve their own unit name."
Cheng Xu smiled.
"Dao Xuan Tianzun has already given them one—skirmishers."
"Skirmishers?" Bai Yuan frowned. "That sounds like… deserters. Hardly flattering."
Cheng Xu chuckled.
"I thought so too, but Dao Xuan Tianzun said that as warfare evolves, skirmishers will no longer be a slur. Mark his words—it's the future."
Bai Yuan thought it over and nodded slowly.
"True enough. Once every firearm's rifled and reload speed improves, formations will shrink, ranges will stretch, and those big marching squares will look dumber and dumber. Every soldier will fight as a skirmisher."
And since Dao Xuan Tianzun was never wrong, Bai Yuan didn't argue.
Still… watching ten new sharpshooters join the ranks made him feel oddly lonely.
Once, his perfect headshot had turned heads.
Now, he wasn't the only one.
And while "showing off" might not be one of the Six Arts of a gentleman, Bai Yuan still held it in high regard.
Cheng Xu climbed the watchtower, scanning the river.
Corpses littered the sandbar; the bandits' boats rocked in the current.
He grinned.
"So, they attacked once and got slapped back. Now they're licking their wounds and waiting for round two."
Bai Yuan nodded.
"Since you're here, Instructor He, I can sit back and watch the show."
Cheng Xu shrugged with a laugh.
"Honestly, that's what I'm here to do too."
"…What?"
"Once you've got enough firearms, there's not much commanding left to do. I give orders before the battle—and after that, the soldiers fight by drill. The rest of us just watch."
Bai Yuan was silent.
Cheng Xu patted him on the shoulder.
"Come, Master Bai. Let's both enjoy the view. A battle that doesn't need commanding—it's quite a sight."
Bai Yuan drew his rifled firearm, smirking.
"Hmph. Speak for yourself. Even if I'm not giving orders, I'll still lend my marksmanship to the fight. I am, after all, a man of all talents—ha ha ha!"
Wang Er climbed up after them, quietly taking his place at the parapet, eyes fixed forward.