The sounds of fierce battle shook heaven and earth.
The entire forest seemed to have fallen into chaos from all directions. People were everywhere, battle cries surrounded them. Arrows fell like rain on one side, boulders crashed down like thunder on the other, and wild boars even charged through the fray.
The rampaging wild boars, with their thick hides and flesh, could still charge forward despite being riddled with arrows, knocking down seven or eight people at once.
The forest in darkness was like an ocean whipped into furious waves.
Tie Ying, who had not yet approached, reined in his horse. Although not afraid of such a scene, he was shocked.
“What’s happening?” he asked. “Where did these reinforcements come from?”
A man ahead was equally shocked: “We’ve been guarding the entrance the whole time and haven’t seen any imperial troops.”
Is it real or fake? A bluff? Tie Ying spurred his horse to turn in place, his hand on the long sword at his waist, his expression grave: “I don’t believe they could have many reinforcements. Even if they do, I can still capture her alone—”
He was about to urge his horse forward when another call came from behind.
“The garrison troops from Chen County have assembled and seem to be heading this way.”
The nearest garrison troops were in Chen County. Tie Ying was startled; Chen County was some distance from here.
“How could the news have leaked so quickly?” he asked in alarm. “Wasn’t it said that no one escaped?”
“No one indeed escaped from here,” the man reaffirmed. “And even if someone had escaped to report, there wouldn’t be enough time for them to go back and forth.”
That meant the nearby garrison troops were also monitoring Chu Zhao’s movements?
If the garrison troops also arrived—
It wasn’t that he feared these imperial soldiers; he feared exposing the heir’s involvement.
Currently, the imperial court and the Prince of Zhongshan had not openly broken ties; they were waiting for an opportunity, or rather, evidence—
After all, there was no proof that the heir had instigated Chu Lan to kill the imperial grandson earlier, and Chu Zhao couldn’t push her uncle out to die either.
If Xiao Xun were caught surrounding and attempting to kill Chu Zhao now, the imperial court could immediately announce to the world that the Prince of Zhongshan was treasonous and send troops to attack.
Perhaps this was also a trap deliberately set by Chu Zhao and the imperial court, using herself as bait to lure the Prince of Zhongshan—wasn’t the incident of falling into water at Chu Garden the same tactic?
Hooves scraped the ground as the horse turned.
“Let’s go!” Tie Ying commanded.
The people around him acknowledged and waved their torches. Moments later, the horsemen rolled away like dark clouds, disappearing along with Tie Ying.
…
By the time a faint blue light shrouded the forest, the sounds of battle had ceased, with only the mountain fires still crackling and burning.
Chu Zhao and A-Le moved among the wounded, trying to save as many lives as possible. Their faces and bodies were covered in blood.
When Xiao Man came running over, she almost didn’t recognize them.
Chu Zhao had already seen her and rushed over with open arms: “Xiao Man, I’m so glad you’re alright.”
Xiao Man was caught off guard by the embrace. Although they had been together day and night for some time, they didn’t talk much and weren’t close!
“You, you—” Xiao Man reached out to push her away, but seeing the smile on the blood-stained face of the girl, her words turned into a mutter, “How could anything happen to me!”
She snorted and turned her head away.
“This was nothing, just a small matter.”
Chu Zhao nodded repeatedly while holding her: “Yes, yes, Xiao Man is too impressive.” As she spoke, tears fell.
She must have been frightened, and indeed it was very dangerous. Chu Zhao had never experienced such a shock. Although the night of unrest in the capital had also been dangerous, compared to this time, it wasn’t much.
She must have been terrified, scared to the point of crying while hugging her—she could only hug her and cry…
Xiao Man couldn’t help but look back.
Chu Zhao noticed and asked, “What are you looking for?”
She followed Xiao Man’s gaze. In the forest with flickering torchlight and hazy darkness, many people were moving about chaotically, some familiar, some not.
But Chu Zhao’s gaze inexplicably fell on one particular figure.
Not very far away, the person stood by a large tree. The flickering firelight made the figure appear to fade in and out, as if both real and illusory.
Although… but… this seemed to be a woman?
Besides Xiao Man, A-Le, and herself, had another woman arrived?
“That is—” Chu Zhao couldn’t help but ask.
Who?
But just as she spoke, the firelight flickered, and the figure disappeared, as if turning away to attend to something, instantly vanishing into the crowd of people moving through the forest.
“What?” Xiao Man asked beside her, her voice seemingly impatient.
Chu Zhao withdrew her gaze and looked at her: “Where did you find all these people?”
Xiao Man responded with an “Oh”: “These are… hunters I met in the forest.”
…
As the morning sunlight scattered, creating flickering light and shadows, birds, unaware of human suffering, resumed their peaceful activity, hopping and chirping crisply among the trees, completely unconcerned with the bloodshed covering the ground.
Ding Dachui led his remaining people to join with the survivors from the other two strongholds. These men, who had glared at each other red-eyed when they first met, now had red eyes again—not from staring at each other, but from exhaustion.
They weren’t attacking each other either, but instead huddled together after surviving the calamity, supporting one another, all gazing toward a group of people not far away.
There were about a dozen or so people in that group.
These dozen people looked strange.
There was a girl, people who carried the air of imperial soldiers, and others who couldn’t conceal their rough, untamed nature. No matter how one looked at it, these people shouldn’t have been together.
Was this the big business the new boss had mentioned?
Ding Dachui looked down at the ground beneath his feet, stained red with blood. Last night’s robbery had been too intense; nearly half of the people from their three strongholds had been killed or wounded—they had finally caught a fat sheep.
But that girl who had thrown herself into the new boss’s arms, crying, how was she now standing with these fat sheep, spouting nonsense?
“I was rushing out to find the officials, and then I met them—they said they were hunters from the mountains. When these kind people heard we had encountered bandits, they righteously stepped forward to help, filled with indignation at the injustice—”
She had used all the formal phrases she knew, then bowed to Ding Dachui and the others.
“Thank you, fellow countrymen, for saving us.”
The scene fell silent.
The thanked “countrymen” didn’t repeatedly say it was nothing, that it was what they should have done.
Chu Zhao and Old Bai’s gazes fell on the weapons in the “countrymen’s” hands—knives, spears, swords, halberds, everything. These mountain hunters certainly had complete hunting equipment.
Deep mountains, at night, so many hunters—how could that be possible?
Chu Zhao and Old Bai didn’t need to guess their identity.
Mountain bandits.
Real mountain bandits.
How interesting—fake bandits had tried to kill her, but real bandits had saved her.
Although Chu Zhao didn’t know how Xiao Man had persuaded these mountain bandits to save her, it certainly wasn’t out of some righteous impulse to help.
But since Xiao Man wasn’t willing to explain, there was no need to press her.
After a moment of silence, Chu Zhao bowed solemnly: “Thank you, fellow countrymen, for saving us. We will repay this great kindness, and reward you generously.”
Upon hearing the words “generously reward,” Ding Dachui and the others focused their gazes.
“My family is very wealthy, and my parents cherish me like a treasure. You haven’t just saved me, but my entire family,” Chu Zhao continued loudly. “Beyond money and material goods, whatever you need, my parents will certainly provide. Even so, it would be difficult to repay your life-saving kindness to me and my companions.”
As she spoke, she bowed deeply again.
These were sincere words.
If not for these mountain bandits, her life in this lifetime would have ended here.
So she wouldn’t question why they came or what they sought; she only needed to thank them.
Old Bai and the others also bowed, shouting in unison: “Your great kindness and virtue will never be forgotten.”
Though few, their unified shout was rather intimidating.
Ding Dachui and the other mountain bandits were startled. Hearing these grateful words and seeing these people’s solemn bows, they didn’t know how to respond.
The new boss had disappeared somewhere. During the charge in the darkness, they could still see her—when charging forward, she had been at the front, cleaving a path; when they had faltered, she had appeared behind them, cutting off any thought of retreat.
The new boss’s people mingled among them—someone poked him from behind.
Ding Dachui was a quick-witted hunter—bandit. He immediately stammered, “You’re… you’re too kind.”
His gaze involuntarily turned to the girl called Xiao Man.
That girl also looked at him and suddenly raised her eyebrows.
“Big business,” she mouthed silently.
Ding Dachui’s expression changed as he seemed to understand. This situation wasn’t unusual.
First, plant someone amid the fat sheep, then when the sheep encounter danger, rush in to attack. Although most of the time it was taking advantage of the chaos, there was also the tactic of pretending to be good people, winning the trust of the fat sheep, and then—
Simply put, it was casting a long line to catch a big fish.
Looking at the brutal scene, this girl and her companions had been fiercely besieged by so many people. Greater danger meant greater benefit.
Perhaps the new boss’s sudden robbery of their several strongholds wasn’t simply to occupy this mountain, but for this very moment.
Such deep planning—
It must truly be big business.