Chapter 2701: The Capital (Part 57)

Liao Sanniang's expression darkened, a frown creasing her brow. She regarded the large man sprawled on the ground, then turned to Little Bazi. "Fetch Old Feng. He has a cold heart—he'll know how to 'persuade' this brave hero."

After speaking, Liao Sanniang lifted her gaze to survey the road ahead. Both ends of the dirt trail lay empty; beneath the dappled shade of trees, the path twisted away in either direction toward unknown destinations.

The convoy had halted. Old Feng approached Liao Sanniang, took half a step forward, bowed, and waited for instructions.

Liao Sanniang glanced at the man lying on the ground. "Skulking after us like this, he's certainly up to no good. Brother, question him thoroughly. Find out what they're planning. We're halfway there and cannot afford delays—make it quick."

Old Feng inclined his head slightly. "Rest assured, My Lady."

He turned and beckoned to two guards beside him. "Lend a hand."

The two guards stepped forward. Together, the three of them hoisted the man and dragged him into the bushes along the roadside.

Liao Sanniang remained expressionless, watching them with cold detachment. Torture was the fastest method.

She raised her chin at Little Bazi. "Go invite Brothers Zhao and Liu here for a conference."

A moment later, a scream erupted from the bushes—only to be cut short halfway through, as if a gag had been forced into the man's mouth.

The figures of Old Feng and his companions were obscured by the dense shadows of the undergrowth; their actions invisible from outside. Only the ember of Old Feng's cigarette flickered in the darkness, marking their position.

Liao Sanniang did not wait long. Old Feng's efficiency was consistently high, and he never disappointed. He returned swiftly.

Liao Sanniang met his eyes with a silent question, curious what method he had employed.

Old Feng spat out his cigarette butt and smiled grimly. "Such filthy methods aren't worth soiling your ears with, My Lady. A man's urethra is his most tender part—thread a steel wire through it, and he'll forget his own ancestors." He casually tossed aside half a length of bloodied steel wire.

Liao Sanniang's brow furrowed in disgust. "Where are they from?"

Old Feng replied, "As Little Bazi suspected—a handful of deserters who've gathered local ruffians and bandits from the surrounding countryside. Thirty men in total, running this 'no-capital trade' wherever they go. We were simply unlucky enough to cross their path today. This one is a scout. Earlier, when we stopped at that roadside shop for water and rest, he noticed our deep wheel ruts and surmised the cart carried valuable goods. That's when he started trailing us. Originally there were two; one has been running back and forth to report. When we passed that fork in the road, the other went back to alert the main group, leaving only this one to shadow us. He confessed that the bandits have already set up an ambush ahead—split into two groups, front and rear. They plan to wait until we're caught in the middle, then charge from both ends and rob us by force."

Hearing this, Liao Sanniang felt a measure of reassurance. Rural bandit gangs typically numbered five to ten men. Fifty was a threshold; exceeding that number would accelerate their growth, swelling rapidly into hundreds or thousands—enough strength to raid prefectures and counties.

Operating at around thirty men meant they were still in a growth phase: a small-scale roving gang that had established a basic cadre and possessed the conditions to develop into a "thriving" organization.

Liao Sanniang brushed a stray strand of hair from her temple. "How far is the ambush site?"

"Just past the next intersection," Old Feng said.

Liao Sanniang hadn't expected the enemy to be so close. Her eyes narrowed, tension coiling involuntarily in her chest.

Behind her, Little Bazi grumbled in frustration. "Inside the city, we met swindlers trying to fleece us; outside, we run into random bandits. Why is our luck so rotten?"

Liao Sanniang gave a cold snort. "It's not bad luck—we've simply stumbled into a chaotic age. Such things are commonplace now. Being close to the capital, there are no large bandit armies here. But further away—in Shaanxi, Henan, Sichuan—government troops run rampant while local bandits riot unchecked. That is true lawlessness. Villages slaughtered in broad daylight, thousands killed without anyone calling it a major incident. What we must contend with from the start isn't merely a few kidnappers, but this chaotic world itself. Escort bureaus serve little purpose in peaceful times and struggle to survive in turbulent ones; in the end, we are but a trivial crack in the great river of history. But for just thirty bandits to think they can take us down—that is underestimating us far too much."

Liao Sanniang turned to face Zhao Liangjian. "Brother Zhao, what do you think?"

Zhao Liangjian was a lean, muscular man of about thirty, wearing a rolled-brim felt hat, a blue short jacket, and leggings wrapped in a blue-and-white fish-scale pattern.

He glanced up at the sky. "It's already the hour of Wei. We've come this far—if we turn back now, we'll never make it before the city gates close. We'd have to spend the night outside the walls. Besides, all the pretense of leaving the city would be wasted. Once interested parties learn our details, transporting silver out next time will be even harder."

Liao Sanniang nodded. "Indeed. The reason these deserters recruit local bandits is to collude like wolves with jackals—using local connections to hide their tracks, blending with civilians to enter, transforming into bandits when they leave, and spying on government intelligence. If we don't pass this intersection now, returning another time will only draw more attention and stoke even greater greed in their thieving hearts."

She then looked to Liu Chang. "Brother Liu, what do you think?"

Liu Chang was in his twenties, with a square, broad face. He wore a wan-character headscarf, dark blue clothes with the hem tucked into his belt, black leather boots, and ox-hide bracers studded with copper rivets. Hearing the question, he replied in a low, steady voice, "Whatever Lady Sanniang and Brother Zhao decide, I will follow."

Liao Sanniang continued, "Laden with silver, the mule cart cannot move quickly. Before long, when the bandits realize we aren't arriving, they'll gather and sweep toward us from the rear. We'd have no way to evade and would be forced to fight on their terms, losing the initiative. Better to strike first and break through. If we truly cannot defeat them, we won't linger in battle—we'll retreat temporarily and leave the silver cart to them. They're few in number; this cartload of silver cannot be carried away on shoulders or by hand, so it will become a burden that ties their hands. While they fight over the spoils, we can circle back and maneuver. Just don't carelessly lose any men—death ends everything."

Zhao Liangjian nodded. "We've covered most of the journey. Once we break through this pass, it's twenty li to the estate. Fifteen against thirty—we can fight."

Little Bazi spoke up from the side. "How do these bandits dare to be so brazen, robbing in broad daylight?"

Liu Chang shook his head. "Within the jurisdictions of various prefectures and counties, boundaries are clearly drawn. When bandit cases occur along borders, officials push responsibility onto each other since they answer to no common authority. Blame is impossible to assign, so they follow bad precedents and drift along. The government cannot control the thieves, which is why so many bandits gather and run together. The ones who suffer are always the common folk. As for the bandits themselves—they believe in seeking wealth through danger. They kill people like cutting grass and have hearts of iron. They are the most savage and lawless, impossible to judge by ordinary standards. Robbing a mule cart is nothing to them; it wouldn't be strange for them to murder officials and burn down yamens. Is there anything such men wouldn't do?"

Liao Sanniang addressed Old Feng. "Go question that man again in detail. Check if his statements are consistent. Most importantly, the numbers must be correct."

Before long, Old Feng returned and reported that there were no discrepancies.

Liao Sanniang surveyed the group. "The thieves are ambushing from front and rear. One group of eighteen or nineteen blocks the road ahead; another group of ten flanks from behind. We will split our forces. Brother Zhao and Brother Liu, escort the cart and proceed as if nothing is amiss. When you reach the ambush site, Brother Zhao, halt and call out the 'dart code.' The thieves won't understand the black slang, so shout it plainly. If the thieves emerge, you and Brother Liu will use the cart as cover, forming up with the fellows to fight them. If they don't come out, hold your position. Little Bazi and I will circle from the side and strike the smaller group from behind—playing the oriole stalking the mantis. As long as we break one route, the other group won't be able to stay hidden and will panic into retreat. At that moment, you strike from the flank. Once the thieves fall back, do not pursue—press on immediately."

Zhao and Liu stared at her, stunned. Zhao Liangjian spoke first. "The two of you are going to fight ten men?"

Liao Sanniang lifted the hem of her coat and patted the short gun at her waist. "I have a repeating pistol. Its flash and thunder steal souls—under its fire, I have no fear the thieves won't lose their nerve."

Zhao Liangjian and Liu Chang opened their mouths to object, but Liao Sanniang waved them off. "No more discussion—it's settled. The woods are deep and dense; too many people would be difficult to deploy and become a liability. Two of us are enough."

Seeing Liao Sanniang so resolute, and knowing her formidable skill, Zhao and Liu ceased arguing. They nodded and went to prepare.

Liao Sanniang called Old Feng over, retrieved another revolver from the bundle on her horse, and pressed it into his hand. "Brother Feng, among those transferred from Guangzhou, only you have trained with short guns. Take this and hold the line."

Old Feng's face creased with worry. "Lady Sanniang, it's dangerous out there. You should take them both."

Liao Sanniang glanced toward Zhao and Liu, then forced the pistol firmly into Old Feng's grasp. "Only when my own people are close—and you, Brother, are holding the line—can I be at ease."

Old Feng held her gaze for a long moment, then nodded silently without further protest. "Set your heart at rest, My Lady," he whispered.

Liao Sanniang gave him final instructions in a low voice: "When the fighting starts, if we're winning, don't use the gun. Fire only if we're losing."

Old Feng grunted his assent, tucked the pistol beneath his clothes, and returned to sit on the mule cart. He touched the weapon hidden against his chest, then pulled out a rolling paper, carefully sprinkled tobacco onto it, rolled a cigarette, and lit it. He blew a smoke ring; the hand holding the cigarette was rock-steady, without the slightest tremor.

Arrangements complete, Liao Sanniang said nothing more. She removed her wide outer cloak, revealing the dark blue, close-fitting combat suit beneath. On her feet were wedge-heeled soft combat boots—special issue from the Special Reconnaissance Team. Possessing them was a privilege.

Liao Sanniang adjusted her gear. A belt was cinched horizontally across her abdomen; a leather strap hung diagonally from her left shoulder, holding seven steel darts; and the revolver was tucked at her right hip.

She rose onto her toes, bounced twice in place, and performed a few stretching and twisting motions. Satisfied that everything felt ready and unencumbered, she walked to her horse, unhooked her double sabers, and hung them at her waist.

Liao Sanniang licked her lips. Her face was layered with frost, her voice cold enough to cut to the bone. "Bazi, we're going to kill people. Are you afraid?"

Little Bazi untied his pouch of mud pellets and tossed them aside. He retrieved a bag of iron pellets from the donkey's back, took one out, nested it in the leather pocket of his slingshot, and stretched it twice. Then he drew the elbow-length steel knife from his waist, wiped it on his clothes, bared his teeth, and said, "On the Jianghu road, fearing death doesn't make a hero. Just push forward and kill those mother-fucking thieves."

(End of Chapter)