The instant the Manchu cavalry scouts appeared outside Beilou Village, the once-quiet hamlet plunged into absolute chaos.
"Manchus!"
"The Manchus are here—run!"
Shrill screams tore through the air.
A villager repairing his roof slipped in panic and tumbled straight down, landing in a miserable heap. Another, who had been hoeing the fields, abandoned his work entirely, grabbed the tool, and sprinted home while shouting at the top of his lungs, "Wife! Run! Run now!"
A man weaving bamboo strips yelped in pain—he'd sliced his hand in his haste. He stuffed the bleeding finger into his mouth and bolted for home as if death itself were chasing him.
In the blink of an eye, Beilou Village dissolved into utter pandemonium.
The Manchu commander watched the scene unfold and finally let out a long breath.
"No threat here," he said with relief. "Charge! Kill all the men! Take the women and children back!"
"Woooo—!"
The cavalry surged forward.
Their charge only deepened the villagers' panic.
Some villagers clutched crude weapons, looking as though they might stand and fight. Others fled headlong in the opposite direction, clearly abandoning their fellows to buy themselves a few extra heartbeats of survival.
In that moment, every shade of human nature was laid bare—fear, cowardice, desperation, selfishness.
The Manchu cavalry had seen it all before.
They had watched this same scene play out in countless villages they had pillaged.
"Hahaha!"
"Cowardly Han dogs!"
"Kill! Kill them all!"
Afraid their prey might slip away, the cavalry spurred their horses harder, charging straight into the village.
The very instant they crossed the village boundary—
A "villager" who had been flailing about in feigned terror suddenly threw back his head and roared:
"Fire!"
From the shattered windows of the village's ramshackle houses, dozens of black musket barrels snapped into view.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
A choking cloud of smoke erupted.
Manchu cavalrymen were thrown from their saddles in droves, bodies crashing to the ground.
"Damn it!" the Manchu commander roared. "An ambush!"
"It's them again!"
"The Ming Divine Machine Camp!"
"It has to be the Divine Machine Camp!"
"Retreat! Retreat now!"
Just as swiftly as they had arrived, the cavalry fled.
They scattered like frightened birds, racing back toward Yingzhou.
The "villagers" made no move to pursue. Instead, they calmly sent men to finish off any fallen Manchus who were still breathing, then casually led away the riderless warhorses.
Cheers erupted.
"Another Manchu unit wiped out!"
The courtesan poked her head out from a house, eyes shining with excitement.
"It's all recorded! Full combat footage—every bit of it!"
Lao Nanfeng nodded. "Good. Make sure the report includes this line: 'Battles like this are now occurring daily throughout the Xuan–Da Command region.'"
Her expression shifted. "Daily?"
Lao Nanfeng's face grew serious.
"Thirty thousand Manchu troops crossed the border, but they didn't move as one. They split into four routes, then broke apart even further. Small cavalry bands are raiding everywhere. We can't guard against all of them. We can't stop them all."
"Oh…" she murmured.
Lao Nanfeng gazed toward Yingzhou.
"I wish we could draw out their main force and smash Huang Taiji head-on—one decisive battle, Gao Family Village Militia versus the full Manchu army. But they won't give us that chance. They don't care if a few small units get wiped out. They just keep spreading, robbing, burning."
She sighed softly. "Then… what can be done?"
He shook his head.
"A problem we Han have wrestled with for over a thousand years. And still no perfect answer."
She fell silent.
She was only a courtesan. Matters of war and strategy lay far beyond her world.
"For now," Lao Nanfeng continued, "we defend where we can. Total eradication isn't possible yet. In the end, we'll have to see what methods Dao Xuan Tianzun uses next. Enough of this gloomy talk."
Suddenly, he turned and barked,
"You—Zheng Dazhuang! Damn fine acting! When we get back to Puzhou City, report to me. I'll give you a major role."
Zheng Dazhuang was ecstatic.
"Thank you, Brother Nanfeng!"
He pointed at another soldier.
"You too. Report to me in Puzhou."
The soldier beamed.
The rest grew anxious.
"Brother Nanfeng, was my acting not good enough?"
"I wielded that dung scoop with real emotion!"
"When I pretended to cut my hand, I actually cut myself on purpose! Brother Nanfeng, you saw that!"
Lao Nanfeng blinked.
"You actually cut yourself?"
"Yes!" the man said earnestly. "Look—still bleeding."
Lao Nanfeng sucked in a breath.
"Damn it! Your acting is trash, but your dedication is impressive. Fine. You're in too."
The soldier nearly exploded with joy.
Lao Nanfeng suddenly turned to the courtesan.
"By the way, which department did you say you were from?"
"The News Department."
He muttered, "If news gets its own department, then acting should too. Hah! When I get back, I'll establish a Performance Department and have Miss Cai Lin teach everyone how to act!"
She looked at him, half-exasperated, half-amused.
"General… you were just slaughtering Manchus moments ago. I watched you personally stab one to death. And now you're thinking about departments and acting?"
Lao Nanfeng laughed heartily.
"Fighting? What's there to think about? I was born on a border fortress. I've been killing northern barbarians since I was a child. My body knows what to do. While my hands are killing, my mind's thinking about pretty women dancing."
He began humming lazily as he walked.
"♪ Can't ever fly away… from this world of flowers… ♪"
He strolled past a Manchu corpse without even looking—
Then suddenly chuckled.
"You bastard. Playing dead?"
The Manchu sprang up, blade slashing toward Lao Nanfeng's leg.
"♪ Turns out I'm a drunken butterfly… ♪"
Still singing, Lao Nanfeng sidestepped. His hand shot out, crushing the Manchu's wrist with a sharp crack. He forced the broken arm inward, making the man watch as his own blade plunged into his stomach and twisted.
"♪ Spring flowers in the mirror, autumn moon in the water— ♪"
He stopped abruptly.
"Damn it! Wrong lyrics!"
He kicked the corpse savagely.
"You cursed Manchu—made me mess up my song!"
The courtesan's face went deathly pale.
Only then did she truly understand.
Chang Wei beating Lai Fu was nothing.
Chen Qianhu wasn't frightening at all.
This man—
this general of Gao Family Village—
this was true ruthlessness.