Chapter 2221 - Dark Clouds Gather

The twenty-seventh day of the seventh month in the Australian calendar. The heat was ferocious, as if fire were falling from the sky. Word was that laborers had died of heat stroke in the fields. At the Dalang Market square, more than half the food prepared for the next day's "Golden Basin Hand-Washing" assembly had spoiled and been dumped—much to the dismay of the minions, who had not tasted meat in ages. They muttered privately that the date had been poorly chosen. When their bosses overheard and barked at them, they fell silent.

Despite the heat, preparations for the assembly—or "Reorganization Assembly," as it was officially called—proceeded on schedule. A stage had been erected in the square, topped with a shade canopy. Along both sides ran rows of bamboo shelters, supposedly for visiting heroes and Australian officials to observe. After all, Sun Dabiao was a figure of some renown in the greenwood.

Inside Dalang Market, several hundred of Sun Dabiao's men milled about noisily. His actual core numbered only seventy or eighty; another hundred or so were "stay-at-home bandits" scattered in and around the market. Now he had sent men far and wide: anyone who had ever worked under Sun Dabiao's banner or had any connection was summoned. The promise was simple—show up, answer roll call, and receive two dou of rough rice plus a new set of clothes. "New" was a stretch: they were old garments, mended and re-dyed, that looked passable but had gone threadbare. The men grumbled that the stewards were skimming.

Yet for just a few words and a ragged outfit, Sun Dabiao had assembled over two hundred men. Dressed in their "new" uniforms and issued swords and spears, they looked the part. He made no attempt to hide the padding—since time immemorial, greenwood heroes seeking pacification had inflated their musters. Who would not want more names on the roll? At the very least, the first month's "grace pay" would be fatter. Besides, everyone said the Australians treated their soldiers generously—regular pay, provisions, and gear far beyond what Ming soldiers received. Just look at the Yao serving the Australians: not even regular Fubo Army, yet within days their faces were ruddy with health. More than a few were privately calculating: if the Australians really did absorb them, being fed and paid as soldiers might not be a bad life.

Sun Dabiao wore a contented air, occasionally strolling through Dalang Market. His manner was far friendlier than before—greeting everyone he met, practically helping old ladies cross the road. The townspeople were baffled: what medicine had Sun Dabiao taken?

By the evening of the twenty-seventh, the National Army Yangshan Second Squadron arrived from Yonghua but did not enter the market. They bivouacked outside the walls. Only the squadron commander went in to finalize details of the next day's assembly with Sun Dabiao. The encampment was entirely self-sufficient—firewood and water procured on their own. Of the provisions Sun Dabiao sent, they accepted only rice and vegetables; everything else—including the rare wine and meat—was returned. Many in the market clucked their tongues: they had heard of such discipline but never seen it.

Early the next morning, Dalang Market was abuzz with activity, packed with guests and gawkers. Cooks hired from across the county, drenched in grease and sweat, stood by roaring stoves, barking at their helpers and apprentices to "move sharper!" The air over the entire market was thick with the aroma of cooking. Poor folk who rarely ate meat could not help swallowing in secret.

On the high stage stood an Eight Immortals table, draped with an embroidered cloth. Atop it sat a golden washbasin—not actually gold, but a brass basin polished to a blinding gleam with brick dust.

Before the table stood an incense altar with a vase, a censer, and the customary offerings. Incense smoke already wreathed the air.

Sun Dabiao was seated in his inner chambers. The heat was fierce; he wore only an undershirt but was still drenched in sweat. Because this was a secret conference, not even a servant with a fan was present—only Bi Xuansheng.

Bi Xuansheng was dressed immaculately, projecting an image of zen-like calm—though in truth, his robes were soaked through with perspiration. It was all an act.

He was here today ostensibly on Feng Haijiao's orders—but in reality, he was under Zhan Zhekun's control. What play the inconspicuous "Staff Advisor" intended to stage at Dalang Market, even Bi Xuansheng did not fully know. His task was simply to ensure the local tyrant before him followed the script.

Yet Sun Dabiao was growing visibly uneasy. He could hold himself together in public, but in the privacy of his chambers, he was restless and agitated.

Bi Xuansheng, too, was inwardly nervous. He had witnessed Australian prowess firsthand. Still, if he meant to accomplish great things, he could not afford to waver. Not only must he stand firm—he had to bolster Sun Dabiao's nerve.

"Master Bi, is today's plan really reliable?" Sun Dabiao finally blurted out the question that had been gnawing at him.

Bi Xuansheng answered without hesitation. "Absolutely reliable."

"But I keep feeling unsettled..." Sun Dabiao rubbed his head. "You're a scholar; you see the big picture better than I do. Still, the Yonghua squadron has already arrived. When the County Magistrate comes with another squadron, I'll have fewer than two hundred real men..."

"Even if you really had four hundred men, could you swallow two hundred Hair-Clippers?" Bi Xuansheng said. "Open battle means certain defeat. Victory lies in cunning."

"But your plan..." Sun Dabiao slapped his thigh. "Farewell, my Dalang Market!"

"Dalang Market is no longer going to bear the Sun name. Why grieve?"

"True enough." Sun Dabiao sighed. "But I have so much ancestral property here. Even if today's plan succeeds, all of it will go up in smoke..." His brows trembled—clearly, the thought pained him deeply.

"Don't fixate on what's in front of you, Master. Once the Australians are driven out, Dalang Market will still be yours. And there's the county seat too. The Yao may have looted it, but since the Australians came, the market has recovered nicely—grain and goods shipped in from elsewhere... Add it all up—is that not a considerable sum?"

"I believe that part." Sun Dabiao remained gloomy, unmoved by the painted pie. "What I fear is that if the first strike misses, the whole scheme unravels..."

"Even if the first strike misses, Wang Chuyi and the Australians in Yangshan will be thrown into chaos." Bi Xuansheng radiated confidence. "It's half a day's ride from here back to the county seat—and that's on horseback. Never mind that Master Zhan has already positioned men to ambush them on the road. Even if they reach the county seat, it will already be in our hands."

Though he kept pumping Sun Dabiao up, the man's brow remained furrowed. Fearing he might spoil things, Bi Xuansheng reminded him: "When the time comes, Your Honor need do nothing—simply go through the motions of washing your hands in the golden basin. Others will handle the rest."

The sun climbed toward mid-sky. A minion came to report: "The county's troops are here!"

Sun Dabiao started. "How many? Is the County Magistrate with them?"

"The County Magistrate's palanquin is in the column—looks like he came. About a hundred-odd men, all armed. Judging by their look, it's the Yao troops from the county seat!"

The "Yao troops from the county seat" meant the Yangshan Provisional First Squadron. Though newly formed, poorly trained, and lightly equipped, their Yao composition gave them considerable notoriety in Dalang Market.

This Australian County Magistrate has some cunning, Bi Xuansheng mused. Sun Dabiao and the Yonghua Yao had been enemies for years, with blood on both sides. By bringing the Yao squadron, the Australians ensured that if anything stirred, the Yao would fight Sun Dabiao's men to the death.

"Quickly! Bring water—I need to wash my face and change clothes." Sun Dabiao called out in rapid succession. He seemed to remember what he had to do; he pulled himself together.

Wang Chuyi and the Provisional First Squadron had set out from the county seat before dawn. By traveling early, they had beaten the worst of the heat. As they neared Dalang Market, the sky grew overcast and the air turned stifling. You Ciren, who was leading the march, glanced up—probably rain coming—and ordered the column to quicken its pace. The Yonghua Yao were expert mountain walkers; despite the heat, no one fell behind. But because it was so hot, the armor and weapons had been taken off and carried on shoulder poles or in back-baskets. Wang Chuyi, You Ciren, and the other naturalized cadres could only shake their heads. If these Yao did not bear a blood feud with Sun Dabiao and Feng Haijiao, such a force would be utterly unreliable.

The column arrived outside Dalang Market. The Second Squadron commander was there to greet them.

You Ciren wasted no words. "Take your squadron into Dalang Market immediately. Secure every street corner and all four gates. Station yourself at the crossroads with one platoon, ready to move."

"Yes, Section Chief!" The commander saluted. "What about the square? I see quite a few of Sun Dabiao's men gathered there. Should I send a platoon over?"

Clearly, the commander was not entirely confident in the Yao squadron's fighting ability.

"How many? Are they armed?"

"Over two hundred. All unarmed."

The number matched their prior intelligence: Sun Dabiao's actual strength was under two hundred. The extras were surely conscripted peasants brought in to pad the roll.

Per the prior agreement, Sun Dabiao's men were to assemble unarmed at the square for inspection; their weapons would be collected in a warehouse under Sun Dabiao's name for separate inventory.

"Have you checked the weapons?"

"Inspected this morning. All piled in the warehouse as agreed."

"Don't send anyone else. You don't have many men yourself." You Ciren considered. "The Yao squadron should be enough to guard County Magistrate Wang. Stay vigilant; watch for anything suspicious—especially outside the walls."

(End of Chapter)