Chapter 413 – Entering Xiangyang (Part One)
Jiang Pengji had mentioned before that most of the Common People in this era suffered from night blindness. If the Green Garment Army didn’t have torches for illumination at night, they were practically blind. To the troops, a group of blind fools looked like nothing more than moving human targets.
“Where did they go—”
“Did you find them?”
“Not found! The bandits have escaped?”
“Go look over there—”
“Where are the bandits? Report back immediately with any news!”
The Green Garment soldiers arrived, holding up torches that turned the area into broad daylight, but apart from the hundreds of corpses, there was no trace of the enemy. The soldiers were anxious and, in the midst of their anger, they felt an uncontrollable fear of the elusive enemy.
Meng Hunyun saw the Green Garment Army arriving in batches and suddenly smiled, ordering his men to remain in ambush, cock their crossbows, and aim.
Buzz—buzz—buzz—
In the darkness, deadly arrows howled out.
This time, they weren’t aiming for the torches; they were aiming directly at the heads of the Green Garment soldiers holding them.
Thump—
The fallen didn’t even have time for a brief scream; a chilling silence spread from their feet, leaving them limp on the ground.
“They are here—”
Someone noticed the stir and was about to shout a warning, only to meet the same fate as his comrades.
The improved crossbows provided the troops with a vast advantage in range, and with the pitch-dark sky enveloping the moon, they lay in wait in the shadows, far enough that the Green Garment Army couldn’t reach them at all.
You could say the troops had a solid upper hand.
Countless ambushes had led to a pile-up of corpses in every alley. The blood flowing out formed little “streams,” trickling between the cracks of the stones. The night wind wafted in, bringing with it a thick scent of rust, telling tales of the brutal battle that had unfolded here.
The Green Garment soldiers kept coming, and bodies kept dropping, the number of souls lost increasing.
Under the powerful threat of death, many had lost their composure and sanity.
They had once been honest Common People, tilling the fields with their hoes, but now spurred on by others, they wielded hatchets and burden poles, turning into violent mobs. Yet, their merry lives had lasted only a few days before the reaper arrived, taking one person after another from their midst.
Soon enough, it would be their turn!
Looking at the empty quiver beside him, Meng Hunyun spat, drawing out his great knife with a whoosh.
His gaze turned ferocious as he jumped down from the eaves, shouting, “Charge!”
“Ah—”
A scream echoed as a Green Garment soldier’s head was split in two, brain and blood spraying everywhere.
Meng Hunyun pulled out his knife and without missing a beat, swung at another Green Garment soldier, more of his troops rushing in from behind.
In an instant, the alley turned into a chaotic melee, the screams rising and falling without pause.
Engaging in close combat was nowhere near as swift as ranged shooting, but it was undoubtedly much more brutal.
The troops knew how to cooperate in battle, while the Green Garment soldiers were like headless flies, lacking even protective gear.
Even though the Green Garment Army outnumbered the troops, the battle was still overwhelmingly one-sided.
Nearby Common People, hearing the cries of battle, couldn’t possibly sleep soundly.
After the earthquake, Xiangyang was already in tatters; many had perished, the impoverished populace with empty bellies as the county officials remained indifferent. By the time Xiangyang fell, and the Green Garment Army committed their numerous crimes, the locals were left in a state of alarm, on edge.
Every household shut their doors tight, day or night, unwilling to step outside even an inch.
Now, as the Green Garment soldiers clashed with an unknown force, many could only shiver in their homes, barricading their doors with everything they had.
Fifteen minutes later, the sounds of battle gradually grew quieter, but the smell of blood thickened in the air.
At that moment, excited shouts rang through the streets.
“Enemies beheaded, those who surrender shall not be killed!”
“Enemies beheaded, those who surrender shall not be killed!”
“Enemies beheaded, those who surrender shall not be killed!”
The triumphant cries passed like a relay through the mouths of each troop, echoing across the entire Xiangyang.
Meng Hunyun, now blood-crazed, pulled his knife from the heart of a fallen enemy with a swish.
Not just him, most of the troops were already lost in the frenzy, forgetting the time.
This exhilarating news reached their ears, pulling some of them back to their senses.
Regaining focus, many felt their arms throbbing with fatigue, muscles stretched and skin taut with pain.
Some of the troops panted heavily, experiencing a thrilling sense of survival.
A few even sat down exhaustedly, indifferent to the blood of others beneath them.
Though most were injured, compared to death, these little wounds were nothing.
At this moment, few Green Garment soldiers remained standing, most either dead or gravely wounded and struggling for breath. Those still on their way, upon hearing that the Ninth General had been beheaded, were first at a loss, then dropped their weapons and ran for their lives.
Of course, a thousand or so were ultimately captured; these were the “prizes”!
Meng Hunyun steadied himself and instructed his men, “Clean up the battlefield and bandage our injured brothers. As for the fallen… remember to collect their bodies so they can be buried peacefully later.”
These troops were not just Jiang Pengji’s private soldiers, but children Meng Hunyun had raised with his own hands.
He had spent years nurturing these men; losing even one felt like a knife twisted in his heart.
But as a soldier, he understood one truth—being a general meant dying in battle was an honor.
With a blank expression, Meng Hunyun flicked his blade, letting the blood drip to the ground before sheathing it.
He needed to meet up with Young Master quickly, stabilizing the situation before any surviving remnants of the Green Garment Army launched a counterstrike.
At this moment, the fifty or so men Jiang Pengji had taken with her had already seized the county office, guarding its entrances and crucial passageways.
Upon seeing Meng Hunyun and his men approaching, everyone bowed in respect.
Meng Hunyun asked, “Is Young Master safe?”
Two Guards looked at him with admiration, saying, “Young Master is unharmed, waiting for you inside!”
Meng Hunyun nodded, taking a deep breath as he stepped through the door.
The county office was still brightly lit; candles had yet to burn out, but the cold, blood-drained corpses still lay scattered on the ground, uncollected.
Without sparing them a glance, he stepped over the mangled limbs and continued forward.
Jiang Pengji sat at the head of the table, with the Ninth General’s head placed to one side, his eyes wide open, forever unseeing.
The room, stained in blood, contrasted sharply with the lavish décor, and on the table lay untouched feasts and fine wines, an absurd mismatch.
The Audience in the live stream continuously tried to engage with Jiang Pengji, with comments racing across the screen, yet she remained unmoved.
Ever since stabilizing the county’s situation, she sat there as if waiting for someone.
Meng Hunyun strode forward and suddenly knelt before Jiang Pengji, his voice thunderous.
“Your subordinate, Meng Hunyun, pays respects to my Lord!”
