Before long, the Manchu soldiers who had struggled up the hillside were completely routed.
The infantry following behind hesitated, uncertain whether to press forward and fight a decisive battle against the so-called "Ming Divine Firearms Battalion." But at that moment, fierce shouts erupted from their flank—Lao Nanfeng had never intended to stake everything on a single plan.
Most of the ambushers arranged on the hillside were newly trained musketeers. However, Lao Nanfeng's most trusted men—the old Guyuan veterans—were concealed along the flanks. These men fought with ferocity and ruthless efficiency, and every one of them delighted in competing for merit.
Although, after joining Gao Family Village, they had been repeatedly taught that "spoils of war belong to the collective" and that "military merit is a collective honor," the habits ingrained during decades of service as imperial soldiers had not faded. Charging at the forefront of battle, earning titles like "first to break the enemy line" or "first to seize the field," was etched into their very bones. They understood that even if merit was counted collectively, those who performed exceptionally would still catch the eye of the Tianzhun and of Lao Nanfeng.
To gain the Tianzhun favor meant being noticed by the divine, which could bring various special rewards—sometimes even a single rare and unusual snack, valuable enough to make one rich. To gain Lao Nanfeng's favor meant not only promotion within the army, but advancement within the Flower World Star Agency as well, perhaps even a substantial supporting role in a film. One need only look at Chen Qianhu to see how impressive such prospects could be.
With a thunderous roar, the Guyuan veterans burst out from their flanking ambush.
Their style of combat was utterly unlike that of the Gao Family Village musketeers. The village militia fought cautiously with firearms, placing defense first and valuing survival above glory. The Guyuan veterans thought the opposite: what was mere survival compared to earning distinction? Playing it safe with muskets meant no one could tell who killed whom—how, then, could they compete for merit? Only by charging forward could they truly catch the Tianzhun attention.
A group of them surged toward the Manchus, muskets in hand.
As they ran, they fired.
"Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!"
White smoke billowed. After firing a single shot, they did not bother to reload. Instead, they slung their muskets onto their backs and, with a swift motion, drew their sabres.
"Charge!"
"Charge while you're young—wealth will follow in your wake!"
"Every scar is honor, every victory a step toward rank and glory!"
"Charge!"
The Manchus whirled around, eyes wide with shock. "Damn it—Han border troops!"
There was no doubt about it. Only the Han border army could fight like this. Everyone else they had faced had been soft and spineless.
With a resounding crash, the two sides collided.
The instant they met, the Manchus sensed something was terribly wrong. What had these border soldiers been eating? Every one of them was powerfully built, brimming with vigor—nothing like the pale, half-starved troops they were accustomed to facing. And their equipment—damn it all—it was far superior.
Steel rang sharply as blades met. A Manchu sabre chipped on impact.
The Manchu soldier froze, staring in disbelief.
The Guyuan veteran laughed loudly and brought his blade down in a single stroke, cleaving the Manchu's head clean off and sending it flying.
The iron smelted by Gao Family Village was of such quality that it could be used to cast muskets; blades forged from it were naturally formidable. A chipped blade was already a fortunate outcome—some of the more brittle Manchu weapons snapped outright the moment they collided with the village steel.
Already shaken and reduced by musket fire, the Manchus now found themselves outmatched in weapons, equipment, and physical strength alike. Against the Guyuan veterans, they stood no chance.
The clash turned swiftly into a massacre.
In a short time, nearly half of the Manchu soldiers lay dead upon the grassy slopes.
The remainder broke and fled in chaos, retreating northwest.
Some of the glory-hungry Guyuan veterans gave chase, but Lao Nanfeng struck the retreat gongs. One never pursued a desperate enemy too far; overextension invited disaster.
The militia regrouped.
Lao Nanfeng then stood before the still-dazed people of Wangjiayao Village. "You are Squire Wang, correct?"
The Wang family patriarch hurried forward and bowed deeply.
"I don't care for scrambling over merit," Lao Nanfeng said.
Squire Wang blinked. "Huh?"
Lao Nanfeng laughed heartily. "I'm a modest man by nature, with no fondness for claiming the spotlight. So when the imperial court asks later, just tell them that you, together with your household retainers and village militia, killed these Manchus. Understood?"
Squire Wang sucked in a sharp breath. "What?" Never in his life had he encountered imperial soldiers who refused to take credit.
He had no way of knowing that Lao Nanfeng had no need of imperial rewards or recognition. The Heavenly Lord's favor was more than enough. Reports of merit were made to the leadership of Gao Family Village, not to the court. From the imperial perspective, it was always safer to avoid attention than to invite it.
Lao Nanfeng went on, "Gather everyone from the surrounding villages and tell them to flee south, deep into the mountains."
Squire Wang asked hesitantly, "Didn't you just help us drive off the Manchus?"
Lao Nanfeng shook his head. "That was only a small detachment. Four major Manchu armies are converging on Yingzhou."
Squire Wang was struck dumb. Only then did he realize that Wangjiayao Village lay a mere dozen miles from Yingzhou, separated by nothing but flat plains. Manchu cavalry could reach them in no time at all. This was indeed a distance that demanded immediate flight.
Without further hesitation, Squire Wang dispatched messengers to summon the surrounding villages and urge everyone to flee south into the mountains.
Even as fierce fighting continued throughout Datong Prefecture…
In southern Shanxi, within Yuanqu County, in a place known as Zhima Ditch—
There lay a peculiar mountain settlement nestled deep within a ravine. The village was vast, with countless wooden houses stacked layer upon layer, more than twice the size of an ordinary village, almost large enough to be called a small town.
This place housed three "pacified" rebel leaders: He Zonghan, Liu Haoran, and Gao Jiaji. All three had once been notorious bandits in Shanxi. A few years earlier, when rebels from Shaanxi crossed the river into Shanxi, the trio seized the chaos to rise up as well. Taking advantage of the turmoil caused by the massive Shaanxi rebel forces, they looted, burned, and committed every manner of atrocity.
Later, the Shaanxi rebel army split in two—one part returning to Shaanxi, the other crossing into Henan. Suddenly isolated and unable to continue their rampage, the three found themselves trapped.
Left with no other choice, they petitioned the authorities to surrender.
At the time, Dai Jun'en had just arrived in Shanxi to assume office as governor. Dai Jun'en was a kind-hearted man, lacking the ruthlessness to order the slaughter of surrendered rebels, as Hong Chengchou had once done with He Renlong. He accepted their surrender and arranged for the three, along with their former subordinates, to clear land, farm, and settle in Zhima Ditch.
At this moment, He Zonghan was sipping a thin bowl of gruel, his brows knitted in frustration. "Damn it all," he muttered. "Eating this watery slop every day—what joy is there in that? Life was far better when we could plunder and burn at will."
Liu Haoran sighed deeply. "Big Brother speaks the truth. Alas."
Gao Jiaji spoke up, his eyes glinting. "Elder Brothers, I miss those days too. I say we rise up again."
He Zonghan frowned. "Rise up now? Is that even possible? Chuǎng Wang and his forces have already gone to Henan. We're isolated here in Shanxi."
Gao Jiaji chuckled softly. "Heh. My two elder brothers—your third brother went out for a stroll yesterday and picked up some news. I heard the Manchus are attacking Xuanfu and Datong Prefecture, stirring up chaos in the north. All the imperial troops in Shanxi have been drawn north. Xing Honglang's forces in Hedong Circuit used to number three thousand and kept us firmly in check, but now only five hundred remain. This is the perfect chance for us to plunder Hedong Circuit."