Volume One: The Monarch's Edict Chapter 37: Perhaps Merely a Rabble

As soon as the command from the Eighteenth Route was issued, the entire assembly fell silent; the noisy whispers were replaced by shock. Some of the “warlords” openly showed their distaste, feeling that associating with such a force was shameful.

Liu Xiaoyi stood beneath the great banner, arms folded, as quiet as a wisp of air.

“Senior Brother Feng, who do you think this person is? There’s never been any news of him in Sanshan City—could it be a place name from Yanliang?” The bright-eyed man beside Cui Ying spoke.

He was a knight from the Heavenly King Path, a figure of considerable pride in Yanliang, for his sect had thrice aided the Iron Dynasty in quelling rebellions, and the custom of training troops was long held within their halls.

When traveling abroad, word suddenly came from the capital that the emperor had died and chaos was imminent. Feng Nanjue began gathering ambitious men and drilling them according to the methods passed down in his sect. By the time they marched from Central Province to Salt City, he had eight hundred elite soldiers under his command.

He did not accept those of poor character, nor those of weak will, nor those without heart for their country.

With such strict standards, it was little wonder he looked down on Liu Xiaoyi’s force.

“They’re nothing but mountain bandits and rabble. If you’re recruiting numbers, Brother Cui, you should at least choose those with better appearances.” Feng Nanjue’s words were exactly what Cui Ying expected, yet he did not take offense; after all, the other was a leading figure among his generation, and Cui hoped to use this relationship to rise further within the sect.

Cui Ying wished to rely not on his family’s power, but to make his name in this age of chaos, to prove to his father that he could stand as a hero on his own.

“But the young man leading them is interesting—definitely not a mere bandit.” Feng Nanjue’s curiosity about Liu Xiaoyi was warranted. Though he looked road-weary, he stood there sharp and imposing, clearly a master swordsman.

“Then, Senior Brother, how do you propose we arrange our troops? The wealthy merchants have invested heavily—we must protect them.”

“Brother Cui, wealth is not something we should covet. Too much greed, and our cultivation will stagnate!” Feng Nanjue frowned. This disciple from the general’s household had many virtues, but was too eager for fame and fortune.

Cui Ying nodded repeatedly: “If we want to fight back, we must strike at Chen Zhou City. There are two fortresses there; they’re surely aware of the news.”

Departing from Salt City, the first battle would be against a sturdy-walled ancient city. In antiquity, a river once flowed there, but over time, the waters receded, leaving only a dry riverbed and thousands of boats.

Chen Zhou City gained its name from this, once a vital trade route for merchants who, as the river dried, switched to pack horses for overland transport. Over time, a city grew there.

The two horse-breeding fortresses stood on either side of the riverbed, ten miles from the main city. Each year, they produced thousands of fine pack horses.

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“Chen Zhou City is strong in cavalry. Currently, only Tang Qiu and Wang Ping have cavalry units, so it’s most fitting they lead the vanguard,” said Feng Nanjue.

Beneath the command platform, over fifteen thousand troops stood ready, awaiting orders. The dozen or so leaders all hoped to make their mark in this turbulent time, willing to sell everything, even their homes, to lead an uprising—whether out of hardship and true rebellion, or ambition and insatiable greed.

The four armies under the great salt merchants were the best equipped, with weapons and armor forged by renowned craftsmen, their purpose clearly aimed at the trade routes of Yanliang Province.

Having been merchants for so long, their lives had grown bland, and they now sought excitement.

Each of the eighteen leaders had different motives. Tang Qiu, excited, sought out Liu Xiaoyi, his spirits fired by the grand scene before him.

“You have three hundred men—add mine, and shall we try attacking a fortress?”

Tang Qiu came from the Tang Manor, a prominent family near Salt City, with a thousand acres of fertile land and a thousand servants, many of whom were retainers charged with keeping the peace.

When the Salt City hero’s invitation arrived, the young master immediately sold off assets, forged blades and armor, and brought his retainers.

Who doesn’t dream of glory? Since childhood, Tang Qiu favored sword and spear, had trained hard, and hoped to win a general’s post.

Liu Xiaoyi laughed bitterly; his bandits were good at pillaging, but attacking a fortress was certain death.

“Tang, how are the fortress garrisons? What’s their equipment?”

“Well…” Tang Qiu couldn’t answer. Though Tang Manor traded with the two fortresses, it was only business; he knew little of their strength.

“Let’s see how Cui Ying arranges things. The General in charge of the eastern campaign surely has more reliable information.” He glanced at the alliance leader atop the platform, who was frantically handling messages brought by orderlies.

As it turned out, among the eighteen leaders, there were friction and rivalries. Now, gathered with their troops, discord emerged.

The armies hadn’t moved, yet their formation was already in chaos. One moment, Cui Ying was full of confidence; the next, his face darkened as he shouted, “Gentlemen! Gentlemen! Are we to tear each other apart before leaving Salt City? Is this any different from common rabble?”

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“Alliance Leader Cui, the feud between Ten Mile Slope and Cangshan has lasted decades. Now that we meet, it must be settled!” Huang Shuqi stood forward, fists clasped.

Beside him, a one-eyed giant rose and saluted as well.

“We from Cangshan live by robbing the rich to aid the poor. ‘Bandit’ isn’t a pleasant name, but we came to join the great cause. Yet Huang Shuqi mocks us—we can’t tolerate that!”

Li Ba, chief of Cangshan’s main fortress, had led his brothers in the hills for years, truly doing much to rob the rich and help the poor—mostly targeting merchants passing Ten Mile Slope.

After decades, they had offended all the locals around Ten Mile Slope, with many conflicts against Huang Shuqi.

No sooner had the words left his mouth than another quarrel erupted in front, even escalating to blows.

The combatants were a young man and woman, both around twenty. The woman wore crimson attire and wielded a jade sword, its hilt adorned with a stone clear as water, with a pool shimmering inside.

The man brandished a wolf-headed saber, stood nearly seven feet tall, and they fought fiercely, neither yielding.

“I’ve long heard of the young man pursuing the Salt City magistrate’s daughter—whenever they meet, they fight. Seeing it today, it’s true! Ha! Excellent!”

The surrounding soldiers not only did not intervene, but clapped and cheered.

Cui Ying was nearly beside himself with fury. The magistrate’s daughter was not only beautiful but skilled; past twenty and still unmarried, for every suitor had been battered into bedrest.

Then she met Zhao Ge by chance in the neighborhood, and he fell for Duan Hongling at first sight. Since then, he pursued her relentlessly, even selling his home and raising troops to follow her here.

After a few words, Duan Hongling, unable to contain her anger, slashed with her sword; Zhao Ge blocked with his saber, laughing, “As long as you fight me, you don’t truly hate me!”

Cui Ying clenched his fist and slammed it against the parapet. What a crowd of characters!