Chapter 2708: The Capital (Part 64)

The forest branches grew at uneven heights. Short weapons moved with agility, while thrusting a long spear became cumbersome—swinging or maneuvering proved nearly impossible in the dense undergrowth.

Short spears were rigid. The key to generating power lay in the wrists. The arms drove the wrists, the body supported the arms, and the legs braced the body—the whole frame synthesized into a single, unified force.

When double sabers engaged a spear, if one saber merely blocked while the other attacked, it meant pitting one arm's strength against the enemy's two arms and waist power combined. The spear would not be pushed aside; instead, it would thrust straight through the center.

The spear shaft was long. After each attack, the enemy would retreat to maintain distance.

To defeat long with short, one must embrace danger. With decisive spirit, the saber must seek the spear—pressing forward relentlessly, with no thought of retreat.

In spear techniques, "Center Level" (Zhongping) reigns supreme. The four-edged tip of the short spear thrust straight at her chest.

Liao Sanniang held her left saber vertically, deflecting the short spear outward.

Her right saber executed a "wrapping head and coating brain" (chantou guonao) maneuver. The blade did not actually coil around her head and neck; instead, she flipped her hand before her body, sweeping outward toward the spear shaft. Twisting her waist to generate power, both sabers combined force to block and trap the shaft.

With a sharp clack, the two sabers knocked the spearhead aside. Seizing the opening, she surged forward to press her advantage.

The enemy reacted with extraordinary speed. The instant his tip was deflected, he circled it back around. The spear shaft whipped back, slapping against Liao Sanniang's upper left arm with a crack.

A slap from the spear shaft could not cause real injury.

By then, Liao Sanniang had already slipped past the spearhead's striking range and invaded the inner circle of the shaft. The short spear became useless.

Liao Sanniang's right hand gripped the saber with the edge facing upward. Half-flipping her wrist, her right saber chopped at the enemy's left neck.

The saber was fast. The arc of motion had to be small. There was no power in merely placing the blade; lethality depended on dragging the edge back.

A single slice—the cut went deep to the cervical vertebrae. The left jugular artery was severed. Blood sprayed like a fountain, instantly filling the air with a heavy metallic scent.

Two sabers to defend. One saber to advance.

In the space of a breath, two men lay dead.

The tide of battle had turned. The third man, clutching his Japanese saber, retreated but dared not expose his back to flee.

Liao Sanniang approached at a leisurely pace, sabers hanging loose at her sides. She regarded her opponent and tilted her chin in provocation.

The enemy opposite was drenched in cold sweat. His legs trembled slightly; he dared not attack.

Liao Sanniang suddenly extended her left saber, touching his Japanese saber and pressing inward on the blade tip.

The enemy's nerves were wound tight. Under crushing tension, he hooked his saber spine outward against Liao Sanniang's left blade.

Liao Sanniang seized the centerline. Turning her body and stepping forward, her double sabers slid along the Japanese saber's blade, stabbing diagonally. The right saber pierced into her opponent's chest cavity, the tip twisting.

The enemy was timid, bereft of both strength and skill. The kill came effortlessly.

The corpse crumpled. Liao Sanniang shook her head in disappointment.

She counted silently: Nine.

A bowstring thrummed in her ears. A figure, harried by Little Bazi's pellets, leaped from the bushes and ran toward her.

Liao Sanniang turned toward the sound. It was the man who had spoken during the ambush earlier.

Seeing the ground carpeted with corpses, the man screamed involuntarily.

While he stood dazed, Liao Sanniang flashed out from behind a tree and flicked a dart from her hand. It struck his leg, and the man collapsed.

Liao Sanniang approached. Her left saber slashed his ankle; her right saber knocked the waist saber from his grip.

The man was terrified. Enduring the pain, he struggled to rise, fell to both knees, and said with a trembling voice, "Spare my life, Grandma. Spare my life, Grandma."

Behind her, Little Bazi appeared, slinging his slingshot diagonally across his back and drawing a sharp knife to stand at her side.

Liao Sanniang walked up to the bandit. "You have great skill," she said, "killing and raping so many women."

The bandit kowtowed repeatedly, bruising his forehead. He pleaded in a trembling voice, "This small one dares not. This small one was originally a local hooligan who only joined this Greenwood group yesterday. I just wanted to scrounge some loose silver for spending money, so I pretended to be wicked—blowing hot air and bragging wildly. This small one is cowardly. Let alone killing people, I don't even dare kill a chicken." He continued kowtowing after he finished speaking.

Liao Sanniang laughed. "Oh, so that's how it is. I didn't expect to find a vegetarian do-gooder among bandits."

The bandit nodded frantically. "Yes, yes!"

The expression on Liao Sanniang's face softened into something gentle. She said softly, "Good. I believe you."

As she spoke, her double sabers suddenly patted the bandit's shoulders—left saber on the right shoulder, right saber on the left shoulder. The blades faced inward, crossing in an "X." She scissored the sabers together, and his arms spread outward in a "T" shape.

Both arteries on the sides of the bandit's neck were severed simultaneously. A sheet of crimson flooded his vision, a mist of blood mingling with the fragmented backlighting into a dim gold. In his fading consciousness, a golden phoenix spread its wings before him, clad in armor, with quills of steel and feathers of iron.

She counted silently: Ten.

The kneeling corpse slumped forward.

Liao Sanniang turned. Crossing her double sabers before her chest, she flung her arms back. The blades shed their filthy blood, forming two parallel lines of crimson on either side of her body.

Little Bazi walked to her side. "Adoptive Mother has fine methods," he said. "Truly a brave hero like in the legends."

Liao Sanniang smiled with self-mockery. In twenty knife fights, she remained unscathed. Only six had been true life-and-death struggles; the rest were either organized formation battles or relied on firearms—gathering everyone's fame onto herself alone.

Only she knew the truth: she was strong because she relied on Qiwei and had Lingao at her back.

Old Manager Sun was old and shrewd. He recognized that Lingao's political system was different, that women's status would rise. He needed to win the support of female Senators, regardless of whether Qiwei remained a martial escort business in the future.

Qiwei disciples had already entered the Intelligence Bureau, but supporting the household required not just men—it also required conspicuous women.

Du Wen needed a woman who could defeat men. Old Manager Sun needed a "Red Line Lady" (Hongxian Nu) who could steal the box for Qiwei. There was only one woman who walked the external escort routes; Liao Sanniang happened to be in the right place at the right time.

Lingao's political scene churned with undercurrents whose directions remained unknown. A prominent woman would be swept into it involuntarily.

Many things could not be said or figured out.

Hearing Little Bazi's words, Liao Sanniang felt something stir within her. She glanced at him. "Legend? Hero?"

Little Bazi raised both thumbs in praise. "Adoptive Mother is naturally a heroine."

Liao Sanniang smiled with self-mockery. "Yes. Lingao needs legends. Qiwei needs stories."

She paused, then added with indifference, "Every story needs a hero."

On the main road, the Escort Bureau clashed with the roving bandits.

From the middle of the formation, Zhao Liangjian shouted, "Form the Mandarin Duck Formation (Yuanyang Zhen)!"

The ten guards of the Escort Bureau took a step back, raised their weapons, and arranged themselves into the Mandarin Duck Formation.

Escort convoys could not carry Wolf Brush spears (langxian). The Escort Bureau's Mandarin Duck Formation was therefore simplified in both formation and weapon mix.

At the very front stood two rattan shield bearers with waist sabers, providing cover for the long spearmen behind. If the spearmen advanced too deep or overextended, the shield bearers would immediately charge forward to cover their withdrawal.

Behind the shield bearers stood two Pear Flower Spears (Lihua Qiang), partially replacing the Wolf Brush. Three fire tubes were tied to each Pear Flower Spear. The fire tubes functioned like fireworks, spraying poisonous smoke and fire sand. Each tube could discharge for several seconds; when one finished, the fuse automatically ignited the next. They were designed to spray into the eyes.

Pear Flower Spears lacked the branches of the Wolf Brush and could not block, isolate, or trap weapons—but they possessed blinding and shielding effects. They assisted the long spears in attacking, covered the shield bearers, and could also attack independently.

Behind the Pear Flower Spears stood four long spears, the primary attackers, specializing in thrusting and protecting the Pear Flower Spears.

Bringing up the rear were two tridents (chaba)—called "three-tine steel forks" in the North—used to parry long spears, sabers, and staffs.

The late Ming army's Mandarin Duck Formation had added three-eyed guns or muskets, increasing its lethality.

Old Feng concealed himself within the formation, using a short gun to pick off enemies. It was worth two three-eyed guns and possessed even greater power.

The remaining two men, one with a fork and one with a shield, sealed the rear of the formation to prevent enemies from circling behind.

The Mandarin Duck Formation operated as a unified whole. The weapons supported one another like the Five Elements—generating endlessly, compensating for weaknesses, flowing without cease.

At any local point, it created a temporary advantage of many against few, killing swiftly and disintegrating enemy morale.

The fire tubes of the two Pear Flower Spears ignited. The spears swept horizontally, spraying poisonous smoke and fine fire sand a meter before the spearheads, blocking the row of enemies in front.

Several bandits facing the Pear Flower Spears at close range caught smoke and fire in their eyes. The stinging proved unbearable; they coughed and wept, hacking at the fire tubes on the spears with their weapons.

Four long spears lurked beneath the Pear Flower Spears, darting out in turn like serpent tongues. A cluster of spears thrust in and out, rising and falling, constantly rolling forward. With each extension and retraction, three men were instantly stabbed down.

Some bandits realized what was happening and shouted, "Run! Run away! Wait until their fire tubes burn out, then fight up close!"

It was too late. The guards never advanced alone. Relying closely on one another, they pressed forward steadily.

Ten guards formed an efficient killing machine, ruthlessly harvesting the lives before them.

Covering each other, the guards bit into the bandit group, refusing to let them disengage. Following the wall of Pear Flower smoke and bathed in acrid gunpowder fumes, they crashed violently into Martial Yama's bandit squad, cutting the seemingly fierce group in two at the waist. The enemy formation collapsed in the blink of an eye.

Japanese pirates (Wokou) were fierce and skilled at leaping. In battle, they wielded Japanese sabers and bounded about. When Ming troops faced them, their courage would be stolen by a single slash, the will to fight vanishing instantly. For combat agility, Wokou mostly wore light infantry armor or none at all. The Mandarin Duck Formation had been specifically designed to counter highly skilled groups fighting in loose skirmishes. Common roving bandits shared similar habits with the Wokou—adept at private brawls but incapable of formation warfare. The organized beat the unorganized, the disciplined beat the undisciplined, the coordinated beat the uncoordinated, the trained beat the untrained—the formation proved invincible.

Martial Yama, watching his squad scatter from behind, stood stunned. Moments later, he snapped awake and bellowed, "Archers! Loose arrows! Loose arrows!"

Liu Chang, hidden among the crowd, heard Martial Yama's shout. Following the direction of the cry, his gaze cut like lightning. He spotted the reflection of cold metal in the roadside bushes and realized archers were hiding behind the trees.

Liu Chang prepared before the enemy could act. Standing sideways facing the roadside, his right index finger and thumb formed a bird's beak, pecking into the quiver at his left waist. He caught an arrow, clamping the nock with two fingers and twisting the tip to align it.

The arrow shaft was inserted diagonally into the bow. His right hand pulled back, seating the nock groove onto the string with the main fletching facing outward.

Moments later, two archers emerged from behind the roadside trees. The distance was not far—about forty meters. Both archers drew their bows, aiming at the Escort Bureau crowd.

Among the eighteen martial arts, archery reigns supreme. In a shooter's eyes, there exist only enemy shooters.

Liu Chang fixed his eyes on the two archers. With a few swift steps, he climbed onto the mule cart. His field of view opened instantly, his shooting range exceeding everyone else's.

Liu Chang's leap to high ground involved large movements, drawing attention. An archer opposite spotted him, turned, and raised his bow to aim at Liu Chang.

Archers shooting at each other was like gambling with life itself.

In traditional archery, drawing the bow employed only the thumb—a "single finger hook." The thin bowstring created intense pressure on the thumb and could slice the finger, so a thumb ring (banzhi) was needed to hook the string and protect the digit.

Liu Chang wore a slope-shaped thumb ring made of deer antler on his thumb.

The thumb ring, anciently called She, assisted the launch.

Liu Chang's index finger pressed over his thumb, clamping the arrow nock.

Both arms raised high, elbows above his head. Front hand pushing, rear hand pulling. Back muscles engaged. High lift, flat draw. Drawing the bow near full.

(End of Chapter)