The general, who had been leading the charge, paused and beckoned to his guards. "Clear the way ahead. I want to see if it's truly a dragon's den or a tiger's lair inside."
The guards advanced only a few steps when the whistling sound of arrows split the air. Instinctively, they raised their weapons to defend themselves. Arrows that struck their armor were manageable; the armor offered some protection, and injuries wouldn't be severe. However, arrows that hit the horses caused immediate chaos. Severely wounded horses bolted, throwing their riders. They crashed into other horses, causing them to panic and buck, their riders falling. The fallen soldiers were not killed by arrows, but trampled to death by the stampeding horses.
While these soldiers were somewhat protected by their armor, the county yamen's "shrimp soldiers and crab generals" were not so fortunate and fell in droves.
By the time the arrow rain finally stopped, nearly half of the men beside the general were gone. Everyone was flustered. This was the first time in many years they had encountered such a situation. They hadn't even seen a single bandit, yet their losses were so heavy.
A guard beside the general couldn't help but speak, "General, this situation doesn't feel right. Should we retreat?"
"Let's advance a little further. Is every step going to be a trap? Besides, we've come all this way. If we retreat now out of fear, wouldn't people laugh us to scorn?" The general was also having second thoughts, but he feared being ridiculed.
High on the mountaintop, the first and second chiefs watched the mountain stronghold ablaze with lights and felt a surge of apprehension. "How many troops have come?"
The guards beside the general remained silent after hearing his words. They, too, felt frustrated, having such an inauspicious start. They feared becoming laughingstocks if they left today.
Soon, they reached the hall where the bandits were said to be gathered. This time, they had learned their lesson. They found a log to break down the door and then tossed it into the hall. Seeing that the log landed safely on the ground without any reaction, they cautiously entered with torches. However, after searching everywhere, they found nothing but crude furniture.
The general looked pointedly at the dusty and disheveled county magistrate. "It seems your county has a mole. Otherwise, how could such confidential information have leaked, allowing them to escape beforehand?"
The county magistrate broke out in a cold sweat. The day's events had completely shattered his worldview. Fortunately, when the arrows rained down, he had quickly crouched down, hiding among the crowd, and narrowly escaped with his life. Hearing the general's words now, he stammered nervously, "That shouldn't be possible. I didn't tell anyone about this."
The general's anger flared. "Are you implying we leaked the information? Don't you think about it? We traveled thousands of miles from the capital, with no time to rest on the road. The capital is thousands of miles away from here, how could we know them, and how would we tip them off?"
The county magistrate waved his hands repeatedly, stammering, "I... I didn't mean that."
The general let out a cold snort. Having suffered such heavy losses this time, he was determined to impeach the magistrate before the Emperor, otherwise, how could he shirk his own responsibility? These were elite soldiers, and they had suffered such great losses without even seeing the shadow of a bandit. If the Emperor found out, he would surely deem the general incompetent, and would he ever be assigned important tasks again? No matter what, he had to find someone to take the blame.
They then dispersed to search the stronghold for any remaining individuals who might provide information on the bandits' movements. As expected, a short while later, everyone returned. The stronghold contained nothing of value except for furniture they couldn't move.
The general punched a nearby stone table, blood seeping from his hand without him noticing. This was the most frustrating experience he had encountered in his many years of military service.
However, soon a detachment of soldiers arrived and reported, "General, behind a rockery, we found traces left by our men. Following those traces, we discovered a secret passage."
Upon hearing this, the general immediately ordered the messenger to lead the way. Upon reaching the entrance of the secret passage, they searched the vicinity for mechanisms. Finally, they found a button on a pillar not far away. The general tentatively pressed it. A rumbling sound was heard, but after a long time, the entrance to the passage didn't open, leaving everyone in doubt.
"Not good, there's oil on the ground! Quickly, extinguish the torches!" someone shouted. Everyone rushed to look at the ground. Unknowingly, they had been surrounded by oil. The group reacted swiftly, but it was too late. Flames erupted.
"Retreat! Quickly, retreat!" the general shouted, abandoning all else and ordering everyone to run towards the stronghold's gate.
Some managed to escape, but others, reacting too late, were engulfed by the flames. They quickly dismounted and rolled on the ground, trying to put out the fire, only to be trampled by frightened horses.
At this moment, the general had only one thought: to get out quickly. He chose to selectively ignore the cries of pain from behind.
Emerging from the stronghold's gate once again, the general had lost all his previous vigor. Gazing at the stronghold consumed by flames, he felt tears welling up. After waiting for a while, and certain that no one else would emerge, he turned and left.
At the foot of the mountain, a rough headcount revealed that out of the three thousand elite soldiers he had brought, only eight or nine hundred remained. He felt a dizzying sense of disorientation.
He was caught in a dilemma, unsure whether to continue pursuing the bandits. If he didn't, he had suffered such heavy losses that he couldn't explain it to the court. If he did, those people were cunning and treacherous; what if they led him into another trap, rendering his efforts futile?
"Big brother, we have no home anymore," said the second chief, standing on the mountaintop, looking sadly at the stronghold engulfed in flames.
The first chief was also heartbroken. However, he patted the second chief's shoulder to comfort him. "At least we're alive. Let's think about our next steps. We've accumulated quite a bit of wealth over the years, and many of us have families. We can't live a life of bloodshed forever. Staying here isn't a long-term solution. Let's divide the wealth among everyone."
He paused, then added, "Fortunately, I was prudent. I bought household registrations for everyone in another county beforehand. Take this silver and disperse. Go to other places, change your names, and live peacefully."
The second chief was astonished. "Big brother, what do you mean? Are you letting everyone go their separate ways? Have we reached that point?"
The first chief spoke earnestly, "Soon you'll have children too. Would you want your children to be bandits for generations to come?"
The second chief was speechless. Truthfully, he didn't care about himself, but he truly didn't want his children to follow the same path. He wanted them to live in the light of day, to have the opportunity to participate in the imperial examinations and become respected individuals if they had the talent. If not, they could still live prosperous and peaceful lives, which was far better than being hunted by everyone.
Without delay, the very next morning, the first chief brought out the household registrations and distributed them to everyone. Then, he divided the gold, silver, jewelry, and grain that had been moved from the stronghold.
Naturally, there were some who objected, vowing to continue following him. However, most remained silent, clearly also desiring to live as ordinary people. The first chief understood this perfectly and felt no resentment.