6. Sparring

“Li Damu, take charge of the remaining members of our group, gather wild vegetables, and hurry to make bows, arrows, spears, and javelins!”
After Wang Bo had rambled on about a host of matters, everyone responded in unison. There was no other way; without a single person suited for management, Wang Bo had to personally oversee and arrange everything himself, fearful of missing anything. These were matters that concerned everyone’s very lives and survival!
Once the arrangements were settled, he kept Chen Rong and Xu Chu behind. He instructed Chen Rong specifically: save the liver of the animals hunted each day, and give it only to those suffering from night blindness, prioritizing the young and strong. Seeing Chen Rong’s astonished look, he explained that eating liver could alleviate night blindness.
He taught Xu Chu to organize their defenses: two waves, each with four groups. Two groups at the edge of the woods, one by the cave, one atop the cliff, three people per group. Two would carry spears openly, while one, with a knife, would hide in the trees. Each was equipped with a bamboo whistle; any unusual situation was signaled by the length, frequency, and urgency of the whistle. The other wave would patrol around the cave and woods, coordinating with Zhou Xiu and the others to gather up the scattered Yellow Turban soldiers. The two waves would switch every two hours… Xu Chu, eyes shining with admiration, went off to carry out his orders.
For Wang Bo, who had past-life experience, these arrangements were nothing extraordinary. Though in his previous life he had only managed a couple dozen people and never served in the military, such things were mostly common sense for anyone who thought carefully. He had never eaten pork but had certainly seen pigs run, after all! As an enthusiastic fan of military dramas in his past life, Wang Bo handled these matters with ease. Yet, to this group of impoverished commoners living at the bottom of society, his actions seemed miraculous, earning Wang Bo ever more fervent reverence and admiration.
The next day, he led the remaining women, children, and frail members to build a simple defensive line outside the cave, using branches and vines. They cut brambles and piled them several feet wide along the perimeter, dug dozens of traps of varying sizes, leaving only two openings big enough for people to pass: one leading into the woods, one to the mountain path.
After completing these basic defenses, he sent Li Damu to gather wild vegetables and herbs nearby, drying all but what was needed for that day for future use, and always keeping an eye on the camp and surroundings.
Li Damu had behaved fairly honestly since surrendering. Wang Bo had Xu Chu assign people to monitor him day and night; nothing suspicious was found, but Wang Bo remained cautious, always keeping two men close by.
Their names were Liu Yu and Lü Shan, both sharp and strong fellows. At this moment, under Wang Bo’s orders, they were suffering through deep squats and sit-ups.
Wang Bo also kept up his exercise for a while, then sat on a grass mat, panting heavily, his mind drifting once more.
After the team was founded, the next step was to find a base somewhere in these mountains. Using the Yellow Turban banner, they would gather refugees and scattered soldiers, training them into an army, striving over the winter to unite as one and, come spring, begin their great migration. Just like the “Long March” of his previous life—turning utter defeat into a shining road to victory. The thought made his heart surge with excitement. If he succeeded, he’d be on par with the greats! Ha ha ha!
Just as he was reveling in his plans, Yang Feng, whom he hadn’t seen for a day, appeared before him. Wang Bo rolled his eyes, watching Yang Feng pacing hesitantly nearby, and asked, “How did you sleep last night, Brother Yang?”
“Feng slept well, slept well…”
“I see your face is pale, eyes sunken. Could it be…”
“Brother Wang!” Yang Feng suddenly dropped to one knee, clasped his fists, and declared, “Since meeting you, Brother Wang, I have observed your extraordinary presence, keen mind, and wisdom surpassing all others. Truly, you are Heaven’s gift to the Yellow Turbans! Feng wishes to acknowledge you as his leader, willing to follow you through fire and water without hesitation!” At his side, Ping Han’s thunderous voice boomed, “Ping Han also wishes to follow our lord!” He bent and knelt with a thud.
Wang Bo hurriedly helped them up, saying, “Brother Yang, Brother Ping Han, you are too formal. We are all fugitives struggling to survive! Such bold words are only clear to outsiders! They may not be entirely true! What virtue or ability do I have? Please don’t mention the matter of allegiance again.”
“Not so! Brother Wang, you are broad-minded and unbound by convention! But ranks must be respected, elders and juniors distinguished. If there is no hierarchy, how can our lord command the respect of the crowd? It would harm rather than help the revival of the Yellow Turbans! Please do not undervalue yourself, my lord!”
“Very well! Brother Yang, since you are sincere, let us wait for Xu Chu, the Niu brothers, and the others to return, and then we shall all become sworn brothers, regardless of our surnames!”
“Excellent!” Ping Han clapped his hands in delight, and Yang Feng smiled, agreeing.
That night, at Yang Feng’s strong insistence, they set up a simple altar and, with Zhang Jiao’s tablet as witness, several of them became sworn brothers.
After exchanging birth dates, Zhang Feng was the oldest, born in the first year of Emperor Heng’s Yongxing era, and was designated as the eldest brother. Wang Bo made up an age of twenty-eight, later claiming that he grew up with an old Daoist and did not know the exact year, so after some calculation, they determined his birth year to be the Dingyou year, the third year of Emperor Heng’s Yongshou era, ranking him second.
Following were Niu Da, twenty-seven; Li Damu, twenty-four; Zhou Xiu, twenty-three; Wang Qi, twenty; Xu Chu and Ping Han, both youngest, taking the last seat. Both were born in the first year of Emperor Heng’s Yongnian era, but Xu Chu was two months older, to Ping Han’s great annoyance.
After the ceremony, the eight brothers looked at each other for a long time, and Wang Bo added, “We brothers do not ask to be born in the same year, month, and day, but only to die together in the same year, month, and day!” Then all eight clasped hands and shouted, “We do not ask to be born in the same year, month, and day, but only to die together in the same year, month, and day!” Their eyes grew moist, a deep brotherly affection filling their chests.
Yang Feng swept his gaze around, then knelt, leading the other seven to shout, “Greetings, my lord!” After helping them up, Wang Bo said, “United, brothers can break gold!” They all laughed together.
Wang Bo’s nose stung; he wanted to cry, but felt immense relief at finally having friends and brothers he could rely on.
Since being thrown into this era of chaos and war, Wang Bo had always been anxious and lonely, lacking any sense of belonging, unable to confide in anyone, sometimes doubting whether he could hold on before collapsing. But in this moment, he finally felt a sliver of security and a sense of fulfillment, finally beginning to feel part of this era.

With the feeling that “life is truly wonderful,” Wang Bo relaxed completely and slept until the sun was high, missing the morning routine he had long maintained.
Upon rising and washing, he wondered why his diligent bodyguard Xu Chu was neglecting his duties today. Yang Feng entered with a smile, saying, “Second brother looks well; you must have slept soundly last night?”
“Not bad! Thank you for your concern, brother! With such brothers, my heart is at ease, and sleep comes easily!”
“Come, let’s go see a fine spectacle together!”
“What spectacle? So mysterious?”
“You’ll see when you get there!” Yang Feng replied with a smile.
Before they reached the training ground, they heard shouts and cheers, mixed with playful jeering.
A large crowd had gathered at one corner of the field. Those on the outside stretched their necks, some even jumped, while shorter ones darted around anxiously, unable to see in. When they noticed Wang Bo and Yang Feng approaching, they quickly bowed and pushed others aside to clear a path.
In the center were Xu Chu and Ping Han, engaged in a fierce contest.
Obviously, Ping Han was no match; he panted heavily, face flushed, hands gripping a thick, slightly curved, wet wooden staff, defending desperately but stubbornly holding on.
Xu Chu, on the other hand, casually wielded his stick with one hand, striking Ping Han again and again, the other hand on his hip, and, more annoyingly, wore a provocative expression, constantly making faces at Ping Han.
“Stop!” At Wang Bo’s shout, Ping Han angrily tossed aside his nearly bent staff, grumbling, “No good! Let’s try the horse battle!”
“Ah! You can’t match me in fists or weapons, and now want a horse battle? Sorry to disappoint you, but there’s not a horse alive that can carry me! If you want, you can ride while I stand and let you hit me! How about that?”
“You…”
As the two started bickering again, Wang Bo said, “Eighth brother, don’t be upset! Zhongkang has natural strength; few in the Han could rival him! Why pit your weakness against his strength?” Then he turned to Yang Feng, “Brother, you are skilled in martial arts. Would you care to demonstrate? It would show our seventh brother that there is always someone stronger.”
Yang Feng pondered and replied, “Ping Han was famed for his strength in the army, yet now he is so outmatched! Clearly Zhongkang is extraordinary! Though I have experienced many battles and am somewhat versed in martial arts, I cannot defeat Zhongkang! If Ping Han and I join forces—he to withstand, I to exploit openings—we might stand a chance. Still, I doubt we could win.”
“Brothers sparring, win or lose, it matters not! It will help us know our shortcomings, which is greatly beneficial!” Wang Bo said excitedly.
So the three prepared themselves: Yang Feng and Ping Han versus Xu Chu.
With an ally, Ping Han was relentless, swinging his stick at Xu Chu. Xu Chu smiled and raised his staff to block, but soon grew serious, as Yang Feng exploited every opening, using the staff like a spear, targeting lower attacks, prodding and thrusting. When Xu Chu blocked Yang Feng’s moves, Yang Feng would quickly disengage.
For a moment, even Xu Chu was flustered; though Yang Feng’s attacks did little harm to his sturdy frame, and only left a bruise or two, Xu Chu was determined not to lose face, dodging and focusing mainly on avoiding Yang Feng while using his staff to block Ping Han.
Unable to fully exert his strength, Xu Chu yelped in frustration and was briefly on the defensive.
Yang Feng and Ping Han seemed to have the upper hand, but it wasn’t easy. Even when Yang Feng’s staff met Xu Chu’s, though Xu Chu held back, the shock left Yang Feng’s hands numb and aching, and Ping Han, attacking with full force, was even worse off.
After five rounds, Xu Chu adapted to their rhythm and grew calm, his defense more organized.
Ten rounds in, Xu Chu, seeing Ping Han drenched in sweat, resumed his silly smile, and while forcing Ping Han back, would intentionally clash his staff against Yang Feng’s.
Yang Feng, knowing he couldn’t match Xu Chu’s strength, had to retreat, often forced to defend before he could attack.
A few more moves, and the exhausted Ping Han finally called “Stop,” dropping to the ground, panting and muttering.

Yang Feng too exhaled deeply, smiling wryly as he left the ring, praising, “Zhongkang is formidable! I concede! In time, you will surely be a fierce general in battle!”
“Good!…” The crowd erupted in cheers.
After the contest, Xu Chu, the seventh brother, finally earned Ping Han’s true respect. Wang Bo, glancing at his own frame, sighed: Xu Chu was a born prodigy! Barely grown, he could defeat a peak-condition Yang Feng in just a dozen moves, even when Yang Feng had help. Yang Feng, after all, was a famed Black Mountain captain, not known for martial prowess, but his reputation was well-deserved!
The days passed in busy order; each task was carried out smoothly, faces now bright with new hope, the old pallor and hunger all but gone.
Arrows, spears, and javelins were piled high, jerky salted and preserved, wild vegetables dried in abundance. Hard wood bows were difficult to make, but with the captured ones, they’d managed to finish just over a dozen yesterday, reaching forty in total. Grain was scarce, enough only to supplement wild vegetables for a little over ten days.
They had gathered only a few dozen refugees and scattered Yellow Turban soldiers, but all were strong, as the weak rarely survived such chaos.
After Yang Feng’s selection, they were assigned: hunters to Niu Da, the strong to Xu Chu, the rest to Chen Rong. New arrivals, after initial doubts, fell silent upon seeing the camp, and no one complained—survival was the priority now.
From their mouths, Wang Bo learned that the local county troops had grown rare, and battles were now only sporadic. Likely the wave of fleeing Yellow Turban soldiers was over; whether they had been killed or escaped into the mountains was unknown.
Wang Bo realized the main government forces were about to leave or had already left. Historically, “General of the Earth” Zhang Bao was eventually surrounded and killed, with many elite troops under him. Old Huangfu would surely concentrate his forces to win this enormous merit.
He sought out Yang Feng to discuss his assessment. Yang Feng moved his lips but stayed silent.
Wang Bo understood and comforted him, “General of the Earth has a great reputation; the court will not rest until he is gone! Even with thousands of elite troops, he cannot withstand the court’s main force united. We have only a few dozen fighters, just escaped from disaster, and even if we joined the battle, it would be useless! Do not brood, brother, fate is unpredictable. To kill enemies, we must first grow strong ourselves; in the future, we shall slay many foes to avenge the Great Teacher’s blood! For now, we must rest and gather strength for the days ahead!”
Yang Feng exhaled heavily, pounding his fist: “So be it! Only, I fear the young ‘Saint Maiden’ will not escape this calamity!”
“Commander Liao Hua is brave and loyal, and our Yellow Turban followers remember the Great Teacher’s kindness. They will fight to protect her; she might yet escape. Tomorrow I’ll send men down the mountain to investigate—if there is news of the ‘Saint Maiden,’ we will bring her to camp and ensure her safety!”
Yang Feng fell silent.
As they spoke, Niu Feihu came rushing in: “My lord! While fetching water, I saw a band of enemy troops surrounding a nearby village, burning, killing, and looting, chasing villagers into the hills. It was horrific…” His eyes reddened and his voice choked.
Wang Bo frowned and said coldly, “These must be government troops murdering innocents for merit! Are they still there?”
“They haven’t left!”
“Kill!” Yang Feng shouted. Wang Bo stepped out of the cave, asking Niu Feihu, “How many are there?”
“I didn’t dare get too close, but I think no more than fifty!”
“Summon Xu Chu and Li Damu! Gather all able-bodied men, bring spears and weapons, and follow me to fight!”
“Yes!” Niu Feihu sped off.
A group of thirty, led by Niu Feihu, rushed to the scene. On the way, Wang Bo instructed them to approach quietly, wait until the spears were thrown, then charge in for close combat.
Niu Feihu, Li Damu, and Wang Qi rode ahead to scout; Wang Bo and Yang Feng followed with the main force. There weren’t enough horses for everyone, so some doubled up, but their pace was swift. Luckily, the distance was short and there was no risk of exhausting the steeds.