Lao Nanfeng's roar vanished into the rain.
On a battlefield like this, sound had a short lifespan. Flintlocks cracked like splitting bamboo, n scread like they'd suddenly rembered unfinished business in life, and the rain hamred down with the enthusiasm of an accomplice.
Words didn't travel far.
Ma Xianglin, unfortunately, didn't hear a single syllable.
He continued charging through the rebel ranks alone, white horse plunging forward like it had personally offended the concept of fear. His silver armor flashed amid smoke and rain, every movent sharp, clean, and frankly—annoyingly elegant.
The nickna "Splendid Ma Chao of Xiliang" had never been poetic exaggeration. Ma Chao had been handso enough to cause resentnt across three provinces.
And Ma Xianglin, as Little Ma Chao, had inherited the full offense.
Even the missing eye couldn't ruin it.
If anything, it added character.
"Tch," Lao Nanfeng clicked his tongue, lifting his flintlock again. "Damn pretty boy."
He even lined up the barrel.
Cheng Xu imdiately pressed it down.
"Hold your fire," Cheng Xu said calmly. "This is a good chance to observe the Sichuan White Pole Soldiers in real combat."
Lao Nanfeng paused.
"…Observe?" he repeated.
"Yes." Cheng Xu's gaze stayed on the battlefield. "Know yourself, know your enemy."
The word enemy snagged sowhere in Lao Nanfeng's thoughts.
Enemy.
Right.
They were wearing court uniforms today—but tomorrow? Gao Family Village would carve out its own land. The imperial court and them were never truly on the sa side.
By that logic—
A grin crept across Lao Nanfeng's face. "Then… since it's chaos anyway, how about we just put a bullet in Ma Xianglin?"
He sounded almost helpful.
"One great general gone. Thick of battle. Rain. Smoke. No one could prove intent."
Cheng Xu shook his head imdiately. "No."
"He hasn't committed villainy. The Dao Xuan Tianzun would not permit killing a man like that."
Lao Nanfeng smacked his lips, disappointed. "…Fair enough."
He let the matter drop without another word.
Cheng Xu raised his voice. "All units—cease fire!"
The muskets fell silent.
"Cavalry battalion," Cheng Xu continued, "prepare to kick them while they're down."
Zao Ying, mounting her horse, sighed deeply. "In the old days, cavalry were always the vanguard."
She shook her head. "Only in Gao Family Village do we use cavalry for bullying."
By then, the Sichuan White Pole Soldiers had already crashed into the rebel army.
Ma Xianglin himself was doing what Ma Xianglin did best—charging too far ahead, leaving his back exposed, moving like he was personally offended by the concept of formations.
Behind him, however, order reigned.
Zhang Fengyi.
Plain-looking.
Sun-darkened skin.
Armor scuffed by real use.
Under her command, the White Pole Soldiers moved with terrifying precision.
The front ranks lowered their white poles—forming a bristling forest. Spears stabbed forward, then hooked back, dragging rebels off balance, yanking them into the mud.
Before those n could even scream properly, the rear ranks thrust through the gaps.
One breath.
One heartbeat.
Dead.
The rebels had already lost their nerve to gunfire. Now, caught in this disciplined, rciless formation, their courage finally gave up entirely.
They scread.
They wailed.
They scattered.
And scattering only made things worse.
Zao Ying's cavalry surged forward like wolves slling blood. Sabers flashed. Horses trampled. n ran crying for parents who weren't anywhere nearby.
By the ti the rain eased slightly, the rebel army was gone.
Not retreated.
Gone.
The Gao Family Village militia and the White Pole Soldiers finally linked up.
Ma Xianglin rode forward, reins loose, scanning the unfamiliar troops. His gaze settled on a tall banner fluttering in the damp air.
One large character:
Smaller characters beside it:
Puzhou Deputy Commander
He cupped his fists. "Is this General Xing's contingent?"
A woman rode out.
Xing Honglang.
She sat straight-backed in the saddle, expression cool, eyes sharp.
"That would be ."
Ma Xianglin froze.
…A woman?
The court had female generals—his mother, Qin Liangyu, and his wife. But beyond them?
He stared a little too long.
Xing Honglang snorted. "What? That look—are you looking down on a salt smuggler?"
Ma Xianglin blinked. "Salt smuggler?"
He genuinely had no idea.
Xing Honglang sighed and gave a quick, casual introduction. Only then did Ma Xianglin realize—
This woman had once been a Shanxi salt smuggler.
Had even followed Wang Jiayin.
Had only recently submitted to the court under Yang He.
Cold sweat slid down his spine.
Good thing she's on our side now.
If not—
This battle would've ended very differently.
"General Xing's strength is astonishing," Ma Xianglin said sincerely, cupping his fists again.
Xing Honglang waved it off. "Flattery aside—no wonder Puxian held so long. So these are the legendary Sichuan White Pole Soldiers."
Business done.
They entered Puxian together.
Only then did the Gao Family Village militia truly see the city.
No walls.
Where walls should have stood—piles of rubble, broken carts, smashed timbers, stacked into a desperate ring.
Zheng Daniu stared. "Why are the city walls like this?"
Zao Ying answered quietly. "They were torn down last year. Rebels breached the city."
Zheng Daniu went silent.
Ma Xianglin spoke, voice heavy. "Half the population was dragged away. The rest were stripped clean. They'd barely recovered when the rebels returned."
No one replied.
Then—
The puppet Dao Xuan Tianzun on Gao Chuwu's shoulder shifted slightly and whispered.
"Distribute rations."
Gao Chuwu nodded solemnly. "As you command."
Ma Xianglin frowned. "Who are you speaking to?"
Gao Chuwu grinned. "The Heavens."
Ma Xianglin decided not to pursue the topic.
Inside the city, the truth was undeniable.
Empty hos.
Sunken faces.
Children whose bodies seed made of angles.
Ma Xianglin sighed. "Even our Shizhu Tujia people aren't wealthy. We raised our own provisions when marching. I fear I can't help much…"
Before he finished—
Gao Chuwu knelt beside a skeletal child and pulled out a small wooden box.
"Here," he said cheerfully. "Eat this."
The child opened it.
Inside sat a perfectly rectangular block of at.
The child hesitated. "…What part of the pig is this?"
Gao Chuwu bead. "Luncheon at! Very tasty. Just heat it."
The child looked up seriously. "But it's evening. Dinner ti. Should I save this luncheon at for tomorrow?"
Gao Chuwu's eyes lit up. "Wow! You're a genius!"
He slapped his thigh. "That's exactly what I thought the first ti too!"
Everyone covered their faces.
This wasn't genius.
This was contagious stupidity.
And sohow—on a battlefield soaked in blood and rain—it was the most human thing they'd seen all day.
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