Journalists were, by nature, creatures of boundless curiosity—and the Chief Correspondent was no exception.
"What seems amiss?" she asked immediately.
Jiang Cheng raised his hand and pointed toward the empty cargo ship ahead. "We're already far from Xiaolangdi. Any merchant vessel operating in this stretch of the river must display its flag."
The Chief Correspondent blinked. "Why does distance from Xiaolangdi matter? Why do they have to show their flag out here?"
Jiang Cheng explained patiently, "Because the Xiaolangdi river bandits have already been wiped out by our Gao Family Village Militia. Near Xiaolangdi, the waters are safe, so ships don't need to fly their flags. But once you enter unsafe territory, any ship that wants to survive must display its flag clearly, so the bandits know who they belong to."
He continued, "Some merchant companies are powerful enough that the bandits won't dare provoke them. Their flag is a warning—stay away. Like our Five-Colored Dao Xuan Tianzun Flag."
He gestured toward the mast.
The Chief Correspondent followed his finger and looked up. Sure enough, a brilliant, five-colored flag fluttered proudly at the top of the tall pole.
"The moment our flag goes up," Jiang Cheng said calmly, "any river bandits will flee as far as they can. They know we're the ones who eradicated the Xiaolangdi bandits. Nobody wants to provoke that kind of force."
The Chief Correspondent nodded, understanding dawning.
Jiang Cheng went on, "Then there are weaker merchant companies. They pay protection money to bandits along the route in advance. When they show their flag, it's basically saying: I've paid my dues—we're on the same side. Don't rob me."
"I see," the Chief Correspondent murmured softly.
Her gaze returned to the empty ship gliding across the water ahead. She lowered her voice. "So this ship… not showing any flag at all… that really is strange."
She hesitated. "Could they be bandits themselves?"
A sailor nearby swallowed and asked cautiously, "Commander Jiang… should we open fire?"
Almost at the same moment, Hand Grenades were hurled.
Several struck wooden planks and bounced away; others arced through the air before detonating.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
The explosions thundered across the river—but only a few scattered screams followed. There was no widespread wailing, no chaotic panic.
The Chief Correspondent sucked in a sharp breath. "Ah?"
It was obvious: the moment the grenades flew, the enemy had already withdrawn into the cabins—or perhaps into specially prepared hiding compartments.
But the seventy Special Operations Team soldiers were momentarily at a loss.
They weren't trained for naval combat. Simply standing steady on the rocking deck was already difficult, let alone fighting effectively.
At that moment, the strange vessel slowed slightly, subtly altering its course—as if intending to pass right alongside the Gao Family Village ship.
A sturdy man with bronzed skin stepped onto the bow of the opposing ship and shouted loudly, "We're a merchant vessel from downstream! We're not familiar with these waters. Could you point us toward Gudu Ferry? Have we already passed it?"
The flagless ship's movement was deliberate—its course unmistakably aimed at Gao Family Village's cargo ship.
Before any new orders could be issued—
A volley of arrows burst forth.
Arrows screamed through the air like a black storm.
Sailors cried out as several were struck, but thankfully, all had donned concealed armor for this journey. They had anticipated the possibility of Lao Huihui turning hostile.
The arrows struck armor with dull thuds. Most injuries were minor.
The distance between the ships closed rapidly.
In the blink of an eye—
Another rain of arrows descended.
Thud!
An arrow slammed into Jiang Cheng's chest, knocking him backward onto the deck.
The enemy was clearly well-prepared.
They had targeted Gao Family Village deliberately.
They had even taken precautions against flintlock rifles—thick wooden planks reinforced with thin iron sheets had been erected all across their deck. Archers hid safely behind these crude but effective shields.
The range had closed to well within arrow distance, completely negating the advantage of Gao Family Village's flintlock rifles.
The sturdy man cupped his hands and laughed loudly. "Much obliged, brothers! Running this route for the first time really had my head spinning. We heard there are plenty of fine goods brought from the coast to Gudu Ferry, so we planned to load up a ship and haul it back to Yongji Pier."
Thwack! Thwack!
Flintlock bullets slammed into the reinforced planks—but couldn't penetrate them.
The Chief Correspondent turned pale. "Commander Jiang!"
Arrows fell in sheets.
The eighty Militia sailors scrambled for cover as the sharp bang bang bang of flintlock fire echoed across the river.
Jiang Cheng shouted hoarsely toward the enemy ship, "This is a Xiaolangdi cargo vessel! Where do you come from? Do not approach any closer! Another step forward will be considered a provocation!"
Li Daoxuan frowned slightly.
The two ships continued passing one another—one upstream, one downstream.
This stretch of the Yellow River wasn't wide, and both ships occupied the center channel. From a distance, it looked almost like a head-on collision.
The Special Operations Team soldiers received the order and quickly escorted the Chief Correspondent back into the cabin.
On deck, sailors lit grenade fuses and hurled them again.
Jiang Cheng, who had just been knocked down, pushed himself upright with both hands, sitting back up. The arrow still trembled where it had struck his chest.
Beneath his merchant robes, concealed armor had saved his life—the arrowhead had barely pierced it, leaving only a shallow wound.
Jiang Cheng let out a grim chuckle. "From Yongji Pier, you say?" he shouted. "Then you should be flying the Five-Colored Dao Xuan Tianzun Flag!"
The strange ship continued drawing closer.
He called out again, "Gudu Ferry is upstream! You need to keep sailing in that direction—"
Li Daoxuan smiled faintly. "Leave the professional work to the professionals. Just make sure you protect the boys."
Jiang Cheng turned sharply. "Prepare for battle!"
On board were eighty Xiaolangdi Militia sailors and seventy Special Operations Team soldiers guarding the Chief Correspondent.
The instant the order was given, the eighty Militia sailors snapped into full combat readiness.
Jiang Cheng hesitated for half a breath.
In theory, opening fire without clarifying intentions wasn't proper.
"Only villains strike without words," he muttered. "Civility before combat—that's the code of the rivers and lakes."
Then his expression hardened. "But they're clearly prepared. They're coming straight at us! Hand Grenades—throw them!"
Before his words even finished—
A swift arrow shot out from the cabin behind the sturdy man.
It was blindingly fast.
Jiang Cheng wasn't a martial artist with lightning reflexes—he had no time to dodge.
He shook his head grimly. "They're not ordinary river bandits either. If they were, they would've seen our Five-Colored Flag long ago and fled. But look at them—they're advancing without hesitation. They'll be alongside us in moments."
Sound carried far across the river.
The enemy had heard everything.
This group was cunning—terrifyingly so.
They had deliberately rushed forward, betting that Gao Family Village wouldn't attack without cause. They used the excuse of asking for directions, dragging out conversation while closing the distance inch by inch.
Jiang Cheng roared in fury, "Damn it! Good thing I was prepared! Fire! Fire back!"
The sturdy man on the opposing ship burst into laughter. "So it is the ship flying the Five-Colored Flag! Brothers—charge! Kill every last one of those Xiaolangdi dogs!"
The pain was intense—
But not fatal.
"They even prepared defenses against Hand Grenades," Jiang Cheng said, alarm flooding his voice. "How do they know so much about us?"
His gaze darkened.
"Where… do these strange enemies come from?"