“Qiao Mu is right, this time we truly must fight the dead,” Tang Xiaohua added.

“I understand, I understand.” Qiao Mu glanced at Tang Xiaohua, withdrew her gaze, and looked at Feng Jiu’er.

“What matters most now is how we tell whether a person is truly dead or alive.”

“If even one who isn’t dead hides among the crowd, won’t we be fighting endlessly? Do you have a solution?”

“If we cut off their heads, will they still stand up?” Yang Sheng asked in a deep voice.

No matter what, they had once been his brothers. Yang Sheng was always a man of deep feeling, and everyone could imagine his state of mind.

“That won’t happen,” Tang Xiaohua shook her head.

“Good, then we’ll just cut off their heads directly, that removes any future worries.” Yang Sheng nodded blankly and turned around.

“I’ll go inform the brothers.”

“Yang Sheng.” Feng Jiu’er looked at the man who had turned away.

Yang Sheng stopped in his tracks and turned back to look at her.

“I have a way — one that can also spare the brothers from having to fight the dead,” Feng Jiu’er said softly.

“Jiu’er, what solution do you have?” Yang Sheng blinked, his eyes rimmed slightly red.

If possible, he truly didn’t want anyone to die, especially not people who had once been his brothers.

Even though Lei Shenbao had a hundred thousand men under him, and Yang Sheng didn’t know them all personally, in his heart, every one of them held some place.

If possible, he also wished to leave a path to survival for these five thousand guards.

Unfortunately, all five thousand had been controlled by Chen Hong, turned into her puppets.

They couldn’t be saved — but at least leave them a whole corpse, so they could still be sent back to their hometowns later, right?

Now that everything was hopeless, that he couldn’t even manage to leave them whole, his heart truly ached.

“Pass the word down — just leave a sword mark on the left side of each corpse’s face,” Feng Jiu’er said in a low voice.

Having gone through so many large and small battles, flesh clashing against flesh, Feng Jiu’er had grown numb to it.

Besides, how many of their own brothers these fearless guards would go on to injure or even kill remained unknown.

Feng Jiu’er certainly felt no sympathy for these guards — the one who had wronged them was Chen Hong, not her.

What she cared about was Yang Sheng, not those people.

“Mm.” Yang Sheng nodded with some heaviness, but at least felt slightly relieved.

“Sister Hua.” Feng Jiu’er turned back to look at Tang Xiaohua.

“Roughly how long after the dead fall will they rise again to keep fighting? Is there a window of time in between?”

“There is,” Tang Xiaohua nodded. “Those who aren’t truly dead, no matter how severe their wounds, will get up immediately.”

“Those who are truly dead will stay down for about the time it takes half a stick of incense to burn.”

“Good.” Feng Jiu’er nodded and withdrew her gaze.

“Yang Sheng, Qiao Mu — notify Yu Jingfeng and Long Shiyi, get the word passed down quickly. We’re about to make landfall.”

“Understood.”

“Yes.”

Qiao Mu and Yang Sheng each responded and turned to head in different directions.

A quarter of an hour later, the leading boats reached the shore together.

Following close behind, the rest of the boats, along with the various large and small vessels that had rushed over upon seeing the signal, gradually docked as well.

Before all the soldiers heading to battle had even landed, fighting had already broken out along the riverbank.

Just as Tang Xiaohua had said, those guards were like soulless puppets — even when fallen in pools of blood, they could still stand back up.

Feng Jiu’er had many people, but the boats were still far too few, so the brothers could only go ashore in batches.

As one group tired, the next would take over.

Dealing with these five thousand puppet guards took the better part of a day.

—

Fortunately, before nightfall, all the puppet guards had finally fallen.

Facing these black-clad guards, the brothers still felt lingering fear in their hearts.

Fighting the dead was truly the first strange thing they had ever encountered.

Having dealt with the five thousand puppet guards, Feng Jiu’er led the brothers toward the hill Yang Sheng had mentioned.

Chen Hong understood their purpose well; finding the herbs would likely also reveal Chen Hong’s whereabouts.

But unexpectedly, just as night fell, a fire broke out in the mountain forest.

The brothers of Longying, the Longwu Army, and the Yue Family Army were all rushing to put out the fire, which left Yang Sheng’s men deeply grateful.

Feng Jiu’er did not yet know about this situation, as she had not stayed behind.

Feng Jiu’er, Yu Jingfeng, Qiao Mu, and the Yue Jianfei couple took a group of brothers and departed.

They had agreed — this time, they absolutely could not let Chen Hong escape again.

The village wasn’t large; Chen Hong fleeing backward or to the left wasn’t realistic.

Behind the mountain were more of Feng Jiu’er’s people, and not few in number — Chen Hong surely knew this.

Moreover, as long as she remained in Lì City, there was no way for her to escape.

So the only route left for her to flee was truly to go by water.

Heading north, crossing the Song River, she’d still have a chance.

After all, Chen Hong could predict that Feng Jiu’er wouldn’t dare bring troops across the Song River for the time being.

Feng Qiongcang had spent recent years destroying rebel forces among the common people. If not for the fact that he couldn’t easily intervene south of the Song River, troops wouldn’t dare openly appear in this area either.

All through the night, many soldiers took part in putting out the fire, while Long Shiyi led men searching all over Huangsong Village for Chen Hong’s whereabouts.

Chen Hong was truly cunning — for her own sake, she had long since had people seal off Huangsong Village.

Those villagers who wanted to escape found it very difficult no matter how hard they tried.

Because the village held more people than other places, the search effort exceeded expectations.

As dawn broke, the temperature by the riverside was very low, and a light breeze brought a chill.

A few fishing boats, after being inspected, left the riverbank and headed out toward the outer river.

Huangsong Village had two harbors, where fishing boats of various sizes were moored.

After the battle, far fewer boats went out to fish, but occasionally a few could still be seen.

Today, the weather seemed to have turned a bit colder, and a few fishing boats headed unhurriedly toward the outer river.

As if they didn’t know that the village had just erupted into chaos with the fighting.

In front of Huangsong Village lay a great river, with the Song River basin to the right.

Where there was plenty of water, there were plenty of fishermen too.

The best fishing spot was surely where the Song River met the great river — the fish there were most plentiful and plump.

Several boats had just left the shore, not yet reaching the river mouth, when they encountered a large ship.

The ship was massive, blocking their path, forcing the fishing boats to stop.

Soon, the fishermen aboard the small boats all came out of their cabins and stood on deck.

“What’s going on up ahead? Can’t we even go fishing now?”

“Who are you people? What right do you have to stop us?”

“Get out of the way! We’re honest fishermen — I don’t care which side you’re from, we have to go out today.”

Ahead, several people stood on the docked large ship.

“We mean no harm. Please submit to inspection,” a man’s voice rang out, firm and resonant.

“No harm? Our village has nearly been destroyed by you people!” someone on a fishing boat shouted.

“You people keep fighting each other endlessly, day after day — we just want to earn a living, get out of the way!”