Chapter 2181 - Shijian (Part 1)

At the front, Li Gangsheng held firm against the swarming regiment braves, while on the flank, Squad 9's devastating volley shattered Ma Huliang's attempted pincer attack before it could gain purchase. Unlike Yang Xiaodong's reckless courage, Ma Huliang possessed the survival instinct common to lesser men. The moment his comrades' blood sprayed across his face, he broke and ran.

The 1st Platoon's bayonet charge proved the final straw. Yang Family Village's regiment militia disintegrated like smoke. Hundreds of men scattered in chaotic terror—Provincial Graduate Yang himself nearly perished beneath the stampede of his own fleeing forces. Only Yang Erhu's desperate intervention, fighting through the panicked mob with a handful of loyal guards, saved his uncle from trampling.

Confronted with total defeat, Yang Jinghui's despair overwhelmed him. Unable to face the village elders in disgrace, he drew his sword to end his life. Yang Erhu, quick as lightning, seized the blade from his hands. "Master, steel your heart! This battle means nothing. The Kun may be formidable, but they are few. We need only weather their momentum!" Without waiting for a response, he ordered servants to bear the provincial graduate away from the killing ground.

When the 2nd Company's reinforcements reached the field, they found only the dead and dying—the ambushers long scattered.

Li Gangsheng felt no triumph. Though superficially decisive, the engagement had cost his platoon three dead outright and ten wounded, two critically—which in field conditions meant death merely delayed.

Several of the lightly wounded fell into the grim category of "unfit for combat duty." While spared evacuation to the field hospital, they would still leave the company for the Convalescent Team, reduced to menial tasks behind the lines.

The mathematics were brutal: eight casualties from thirty-four effectives—nearly a quarter of his strength gone. The hundred-odd enemy corpses littering the battlefield and the coming tally of prisoners meant nothing against such attrition.

Li Dong led the prisoner sweep through the brush-choked fields. Wounded militia and village braves huddled everywhere among the undergrowth, too injured or terrified to flee. Those unable to walk were abandoned where they lay—the army had no resources to waste on the immobile. They would survive or die as heaven willed.

The sweep netted fifty-three prisoners. Under urgent interrogation, they confirmed what the commanders had suspected: Yang Family Village militia. The revelation sparked immediate debate.

Wu Baliu, commander of the 2nd Company, pressed for an immediate punitive strike against the village. The ambush had endangered their entire line of communication, he argued—a threat that demanded immediate response. Wu Baliu bore the chip on his shoulder common to rapid promotions; his elevation to company command in the 10th Battalion shortly after the Guangzhou offensive had come with a rank still one grade below senior captain. This unsatisfying "victory" stung his pride.

Yang Zeng, commanding both the Sui River Detachment and the 8th Battalion, held firm to their original mission: break the siege at Shijian and secure the gateway to Guangning County.

"We advance by water and land with a single purpose—reaching Shijian with all speed," he stated flatly. "Dividing our forces for bandit suppression in unmapped mountain country courts disaster. Besides, village militia pose no threat to our river transport."

Though Huang Chao stood among them, he held his tongue on military matters, deferring to the field commander's judgment.

The plan held. The 2nd Company and Wuzhou Composite Squadron would press forward overland at double-time to lift the siege.

Unlike the West River's commercial bustle, the Sui River cut through wilderness. Vast mountains hemmed the narrow trails, forcing the column into dangerously extended files through hostile territory. The recent ambush weighed heavily on every mind—though the two critically wounded had been evacuated downriver by boat, everyone understood their grim prognosis. Another such encounter would shatter the platoon entirely. The weight of command drew Wu Baliu's and Li Dong's nerves taut as bowstrings, a tension that radiated through their subordinate officers and NCOs.

Yet the march continued without incident. Villages emptied at their approach, inhabitants fled to the hills. Those communities that stood their ground behind fortified walls sent out delegations with tea and refreshments, professing welcome for "the Great Army" while carefully displaying no hostility.

Wu Baliu interrogated locals at every opportunity. The pattern held consistent: Yang Family Village militia had indeed laid the ambush and now besieged Shijian. Many villages chafed under Yang Family Village's dominance but dared not speak openly against them. As for the Yao movements that most concerned the battalion commander and the Head of State, their intelligence proved sparse. Local Yao had joined bandit bands in opportunistic raids, a few villages banding together for plunder, but no signs of coordinated uprising. Director Huang's assessment appeared vindicated—the Yao were merely looting during the chaos, with no intention of general rebellion.

Wu Baliu drove his men hard. As dusk approached, they closed to within two kilometers of Shijian, the so-called South Gate of Guangning. The title flattered what amounted to an oversized village occupying a small alluvial plain hemmed by mountains, the river on one side, protected by wooden palisades. Yang Family Village forces besieging the town had erected barricades at the key chokepoint, controlling both the road and several hillside hamlets.

Xie Wendong, commanding the besiegers, had risen through violence and opportunism. Originally second-in-command of a rural bandit gang, he'd read the signs when Yang Family Village militia began their surge to power, crushing surrounding bandit groups. Under Provincial Graduate Yang's mixture of threats and inducements, Xie had murdered his own chief in an arranged "internal conflict" and delivered his mountain stronghold intact.

His fifty-odd surviving bandit comrades formed a faction within Yang Family Stockade—one that Provincial Graduate Yang simultaneously distrusted and exploited. Sending Xie to assault Shijian served multiple purposes: it cultivated his loyalty through opportunity for profit while keeping this dangerous element at arm's length.

Xie had expected easy pickings. Shijian had capitulated during the last round of troubles, opening its gates and surrendering wealth without resistance. He'd brought barely a hundred actual militia; the rest consisted of able-bodied men from Yang Family Village's client communities, following along to "get rich" and swell his numbers. They'd claim no share of valuables, but salvaged clothing, furniture, and cookware would make the expedition worthwhile.

Reality proved harsher. A National Army squad garrisoned the town, and they'd strengthened the defenses. Xie's initial assault dissolved under withering fire—the defenders fielded not just Nanyang rifles but captured Ming firearms, distributed to hastily conscripted town militia. The concentrated volleys shredded his attack before it reached the palisade walls.

Xie raged. He commanded a core of genuine desperadoes, but too few to matter. The bulk of his force consisted of ordinary peasants. Seeing Shijian's unexpectedly hard shell, none would risk their lives for uncertain plunder. The assault devolved into stalemate.

At his lowest ebb, his "strategist" Jiang Wenming proposed a solution: if they couldn't storm the town quickly, blockade it instead. Cut the roads, prevent relief from the county seat, and starve them into submission over the coming months.

Jiang Wenming embodied a familiar type—the failed scholar ruined by gambling debts, forced to the mountains to survive. His literacy, vicious cunning, and rudimentary martial skills with spear and club earned him the grandiose title of "talented in both civil and martial arts," making him the stronghold's de facto strategist.

Understanding that banditry offered no long-term future, he'd cultivated connections with Provincial Graduate Yang early on, handling the dirty work too unseemly for the master to acknowledge publicly. He'd orchestrated Xie Wendong's betrayal and submission to Yang Family Village.

Word of Provincial Graduate Yang's catastrophic ambush had already reached Xie through multiple channels. Yang Erhu's messenger had arrived first, urging immediate withdrawal before the Kun could deliver another crushing blow. Then Yu Heiqi, one of Xie's own men who'd fled the battlefield, brought detailed confirmation.

"How many Kun?" Xie demanded.

"No more than forty-something, and they routed us completely." Yu Heiqi still trembled with shock. "Their firearms—devastating!"

"Spare me the obvious!" Xie snapped. "I know Hair Rebel firearms are formidable. How many in their main force?"

"This lowly one... couldn't see. Dare not say." Yu Heiqi swallowed. "Only know the Hair Rebel main force travels by boat..."

"Get out!"

Xie wrestled with indecision. Flight offered the safest course—but Shijian's riches lay tantalizingly close, just beyond his grasp. More critically, he'd ferried several hundred jin of gunpowder from the mountain stronghold just yesterday, planning to float it downstream and blow a hole in the riverside palisade for a breakthrough assault. Retreat now would waste everything.

The calculation turned in his mind. The Kun' main force traveled by water—fighting the upstream current, they couldn't arrive before the day after tomorrow at earliest. The overland contingent numbered only a few dozen. He could spare men to hold the road barricades. Surely a few dozen couldn't break through proper fortifications.

He conferred with Jiang Wenming. They divided their forces: Jiang would hold the intersection with half the men while Xie prosecuted the assault on Shijian with the remainder.

"Press the attack, but withdraw if it fails," Jiang instructed. "Don't linger."

"I understand," Xie replied carelessly. "You just keep those Hair Rebel land scouts from breaking through. I hear they're elite troops."

"Elite or not, a few dozen men matter little. I'll hold fast behind the barricades without sallying. Without artillery, they cannot dislodge us."

Jiang spoke with genuine confidence. Beyond gunpowder, they'd hauled considerable firepower from the stronghold—multiple lychee cannons and even an old Ming army iron gun, ancient stock dragged from storage. To take Shijian, Xie had committed his entire arsenal. Combined with the wooden barricades and hastily improved earthworks, holding against a few dozen attackers posed minimal risk.

Wu Baliu's vanguard reached the position before nightfall. His scouts reported enemy fortifications across the road, complete with artillery emplacements. Suspecting heavy forces, Wu refused to underestimate the threat. With darkness falling and the terrain unfamiliar, he elected to wait for dawn rather than risk a night assault.

"Tomorrow the 2nd Company takes the main attack. Your squadron provides support." Wu gestured at the crude topographic sketch. "The terrain constrains our deployment..."

"I request our squadron execute the main attack," Li Dong interjected. "Let the Fubo Army provide fire support."