Datong.
Zhang Zongheng, Supreme Commander of Xuanfu and Datong, stared at the imperial gazette in his hands as if it might suddenly deny what it said.
But it didn't.
Laizhou's situation was unfolding exactly as the Dao Xuan Tianzun had revealed. Kong Youde had been ambushed, routed, and driven into a corner. Now—humiliated and desperate—he was preparing to surrender to the Manchus.
Every word matched.
Not a single deviation.
Seated across from him, Sun Chuanting—who had rushed over from Daizhou specifically to discuss border affairs—wore a complicated expression. He, too, had come after hearing the news.
"Governor-General," Sun Chuanting said slowly, "it seems the heavenly secret revealed by the Dao Xuan Tianzun… was entirely accurate."
Zhang Zongheng nodded heavily, his face dark.
"At this point," he said, "there's no longer any reason to question whether those words were truly heavenly secrets."
He paused, then continued in a low voice.
"In that case, his revelation that the eight great Jin merchants are traitors… must also be true."
Sun Chuanting's heart tightened.
"Governor-General, how do you plan to deal with this?"
Zhang Zongheng snorted coldly.
"Post men to watch them. Gather evidence of their dealings with the northern barbarians. Once we catch them red-handed—"
His eyes flashed.
"—I'll have them all executed."
Sun Chuanting nodded without hesitation.
"Excellent."
But before the word had even fully settled—
A general rushed in from outside, breathless, voice sharp with urgency.
"Report!"
"Jin merchant Zhang Fugui, who was scheduled to deliver fifty shi of grain and ten shi of salt three days ago, failed to arrive on time. My men went to search for him…"
The general swallowed.
"They only found Zhang Fugui's corpse. He—and his entire convoy—were taken by the rebels."
Sun Chuanting sucked in a sharp breath.
Zhang Zongheng slammed his fist down.
"What?!"
The outburst echoed through the hall. Then, slowly, Zhang Zongheng exhaled and sagged back into his chair.
"This is bad," he said quietly.
"Rebels are everywhere in northwest Shanxi—appearing and vanishing like ghosts. The smaller Jin merchants no longer have the strength to supply our border armies."
His voice grew heavier with each name.
"And the large ones—Fan Yongdou, Wang Dengku, Jin Liangyu, Wang Dayu, Liang Jiabin, Tian Shenglan, Zhai Tang…"
"They're all traitors."
He clenched his jaw.
"So tell me—what are we supposed to do now?"
Sun Chuanting felt a chill crawl up his spine.
The small Jin merchants who weren't traitors lacked the power to deliver supplies.
The powerful Jin merchants were traitors.
If they moved against the big Jin merchants immediately, the border armies would be cut off.
Food. Salt. Weapons.
Gone.
This was a deadlock.
Zhang Zongheng clenched his fists, at a complete loss for the first time in years—
—
Meanwhile.
Tie Niaofei and his group rode north, leaving Pingyang Prefecture behind.
Almost immediately, the world changed.
The roads grew empty.
No merchant caravans. No travelers calling out greetings. Only silence—and bones.
Human bones lay scattered by the roadside, bleached white by sun and wind, so common they barely drew a glance. Villages appeared now and then, but more than half of their houses had been burned to the ground.
The few still standing leaned crookedly, their walls scarred with axe marks and blade cuts.
For over a year, rebels had rampaged across the lands north of Pingyang. Only after the imperial court dispatched Zhang Zongheng and Xu Dingchen with a massive army had the situation been forced into uneasy restraint.
Major rebel leaders—
Zijing Liang (Wang Ziyong),
Chuang Wang (Gao Yingxiang),
the Dashing General (Li Zicheng),
the West Camp's Eight Great Kings (Zhang Xianzhong),
and Lao Huihui—
had all been driven into the Taihang Mountains.
What remained were smaller rebel forces.
Less famous.
But no less vicious.
One of them was known as Cao Cao.
Cao Cao—real name Luo Rucai—was from Yan'an Prefecture in Shaanxi. He dared to call himself Cao Cao because he genuinely believed he was just as cunning and resourceful as the ancient warlord.
Recently, he'd come up with a clever idea.
He stopped robbing peasants.
Northwest Shanxi had been ravaged for too long. Most cities—aside from strongholds like Taiyuan and Daizhou—had already fallen. The people were dead, scattered, or forcibly conscripted. There was nothing left to squeeze.
So Cao Cao changed targets.
He robbed Jin merchants.
These merchants were responsible for supplying the border armies. Whenever they appeared, they carried grain, salt, weapons, cloth—everything a rebel camp could dream of.
One raid could bring more loot than a month of pillaging villages.
At this moment, Cao Cao was camped in a small village near Lingshi County.
An official road curved past the village. Just earlier that day, Cao Cao had ambushed a small Jin merchant convoy right there, seizing huge quantities of grain and weapons.
He was in an excellent mood.
As he counted the spoils, a subordinate hurried over.
"Boss," the man said, "another convoy is coming."
Cao Cao's eyes lit up.
"Oh? Another fat lamb walking itself into the slaughter?"
The subordinate hesitated.
"This lamb… seems a bit too fat."
Cao Cao frowned.
"Explain."
"It's a massive convoy," the subordinate said.
"Grain, salt, cloth—piled high on fifty large carts. And it's escorted by three hundred cavalry."
Cao Cao squinted.
His eyes were narrow to begin with; when he did this, they nearly vanished.
"Oh," he said softly. "A very powerful Jin merchant."
"Yes," the subordinate confirmed.
Cao Cao sneered.
"That kind of strength only scares weaker rebel bands."
He waved his hand.
"To us, it's nothing."
He stood up.
"Give the order. Time to work."
Though Cao Cao had never risen to the rank of major rebel king, his strength among bandit leaders was solid. He commanded over five thousand followers. Even after excluding the old, the weak, women, and children, he still had more than two thousand able-bodied fighters.
They moved quickly.
Several hundred hid inside the village, slipping into ruined houses. Outside the village, men disappeared into earthen ditches, woods, and behind low hillocks.
In an instant—
The nameless village fell deathly silent.
Tie Niaofei and his group approached from the south.
More than fifty large carts stretched along the official road, winding forward like a slow-moving dragon.
Zheng Daniu grinned.
"Look—there's a village ahead. Wonder if they've got any local specialties."
Zao Ying replied calmly,
"No. There's no one left in that village."
"Huh?" Zheng Daniu's face fell.
"In northwest Shanxi, you can walk dozens of li without seeing a soul. These people really have it rough."
Then—
Zao Ying spoke again, her tone changing.
"You'll be seeing people very soon."
Zheng Daniu blinked.
"Huh? Really?"
Zao Ying continued riding at the same leisurely pace, eyes forward, expression relaxed.
But her voice dropped.
"There are ambushes in the village. Every house."
"Outside the village—in the ditches, the woods, behind the hills. They're everywhere."
She paused.
"These aren't ordinary rebels. Whoever's leading them knows formations. Knows how to hunt."
Zheng Daniu sucked in a breath.
"How can you tell?"
Zao Ying smiled faintly.
"Don't underestimate horse bandits."
"Every creature has its specialty. When it comes to hiding and ambushing merchant convoys—"
She glanced ahead.
"—we're the experts."
Tie Niaofei asked quietly,
"Boss Zao. How do we fight this?"
Zao Ying lowered her voice further.
"First," she said,
"we pull the convoy together—without alerting them."