Qiu Zhen turned things over in his mind: now that Zhao Dong had made his preparations, the tactic of blasting walls with saltpeter had run its course. Once a stalemate set in, the rebel army — short on both funds and provisions — would inevitably come off worse. They simply could not afford a drawn-out siege.

The Tiefú people were stirring as well, looking for their chance to strike back at the rebels. If he got bogged down against Great Wei’s forces, he might find a fire breaking out behind him, handing the Tiefú an easy advantage.

Turning all this over, Qiu Zhen’s gaze settled once more on the Qianxi Grain and Forage Depot marked on the map.

That camp was positively bloated with wealth now. If he could swallow it whole, his foundation would be solid.

Take that place and every problem he had would solve itself at a stroke.

But then there was Han Linfeng, who held the Qianxi Depot — and he was no easy opponent. Qiu Zhen could not help reaching up to touch the wound on his shoulder.

Han Linfeng truly was a man born to clash with him. Since the attempt in Huicheng had fallen just short and the man had slipped through his fingers, he would need to prepare with the utmost care next time — to leave absolutely no room for failure.

Qiu Zhen was a firm believer in fate. When he had been a young child wandering the streets, a destitute old fortune teller had read his destiny and told him that his life was marked by the sign of the fierce owl — a man who could turn disaster into fortune.

But an overlord of that nature required the nourishment of blessings and wealth, the old man had warned, or his end would most likely be wretched. Young as he was, Qiu Zhen had pressed further and asked how he would ultimately die.

The old man had stroked his beard and pondered a while before saying that he would most likely meet his end upon his sickbed — and had refused to elaborate further.

Qiu Zhen had turned this over in his mind ever since, and had concluded that it simply meant dying old and bedridden from illness.

This exchange from his youth had stayed with him always. Now that he had survived countless near-deaths to become the rebel commander, he believed more than ever that the old man had been a sage hidden from the world.

Han Linfeng? No matter how formidable the man was, had he not slipped out of several death traps right from under his nose? Why should he fear him?

Though merely killing the man on the battlefield would not be satisfying enough…

The thought that Han Linfeng had received Cao Sheng’s funds set his mind turning. He said to his trusted men, “You say Cao Sheng wants to submit to the court — but I hear the reward for his capture posted in the city has never been lifted. That tells me the court has no intention of taking him in. Is it possible that Han Linfeng and Cao Sheng have been secretly colluding all along, and that is why Cao Sheng has been funneling money to him?”

His trusted men naturally knew the truth — that Cao Sheng was still alive. Hearing the commander put it this way, one of them immediately picked up the thread. “It could well be that Cao Sheng was the one who brokered the connection between Han Linfeng and You Shanyue… That old fox You — he made his promises to you but still hasn’t produced a single tael of silver. Truly infuriating.”

Qiu Zhen gave a thin smile, curling his lips. “If that is indeed the case, all the better. Do you think the court would look kindly upon a minor branch Shizi who is secretly in league with the rebel leader? How long do you think he’d manage to keep his head?”

His subordinate understood at once, and lowered his voice. “Shall we write an anonymous letter and report him? Though who should we direct this to?”

Qiu Zhen already had someone in mind. Wang Yun had been stripped of his post, but the Wang family of Changxi had deep roots and many branches — plenty of Wang family loyalists were still in Huicheng.

Several of them were even court-appointed garrison inspectors, tasked with periodically overseeing the military camps and reporting on the conduct of the officers and soldiers to the Son of Heaven.

With Wang Yun removed, the Wang family would certainly be desperate to find some pretext to reclaim the military authority they had lost.

Han Linfeng was also close with Zhao Dong. If Han Linfeng could be implicated in treasonous dealings, it would naturally drag down General Zhao Dong as well. The Wang family would surely make the most of such an opportunity.

With that, he waved for a subordinate to grind the ink and write the letter. Once the informant’s letter was finished, it would be sent to the garrison inspector’s residence in Huicheng.

With that hidden fuse laid, he would wait quietly for it to be lit. In a few days’ time, there would surely be some noise to enjoy.

Let us see whether Han Linfeng could dodge this silent, buried thunderbolt.

At this thought, Qiu Zhen could not help smiling coldly.

Just then, several subordinates entered the tent and asked, “Commander, since the military funds have still not arrived, should we delay the assault on Jingzhou?”

Qiu Zhen answered without hesitation. “No need to wait. Break camp immediately and march for Jingzhou.”

His subordinates exchanged uncertain looks. “But… isn’t this moving a little too fast?”

Qiu Zhen gave two cold laughs, his tone carrying a deeper meaning. “If you want to bag a fat hare, you have to lull it first — let it grow careless before you sweep it up along with the grass. Strike at nothing, catch everything.”

Only by encircling Jingzhou first could he ease the vigilance of the rear.

No one would guess that his true target was not Jingzhou at all, but the Qianxi Grain and Forage Depot deep in the rear.

And so the rebel forces under Qiu Zhen’s command, after resting and regrouping in Jiayong Prefecture, moved out and advanced steadily toward Jingzhou.

* * *

In the pre-dawn chaos of breaking camp, no one noticed a woman dressed in a camp cook’s clothes — her head wrapped in a cloth, her face low, carrying a sickle as though heading out to chop firewood and gather grass.

Once she passed beyond the camp perimeter, the woman’s previously slow, shuffling steps became light and quick. Seeing no one behind her, she broke into a run — and in her haste, tumbled headlong down the slope behind a nearby hill.

When she caught her breath and pulled down the cloth from her face, it was unmistakably Cao Pei’er.

In the pre-dawn hours, she had taken advantage of the guards’ inattention to slip over to the laundry lines and steal a set of the camp kitchen women’s clothes, change into them, and then — pretending to go out for firewood — slipped away while the sentries were distracted.

By now, Cao Pei’er was of no consequence to Qiu Zhen. Naturally he did not watch over her as strictly as he once had.

She had spent the night before weeping until her heart went cold and hard, and in that coldness she had resolved to leave.

She wanted to find her father, to beg his forgiveness. As for how to find him — her thoughts had turned to Han Linfeng, the transport supervisor of the Qianxi Grain and Forage Depot.

When they had been in Huicheng, Qiu Zhen had told her himself that Han Linfeng appeared to be the one secretly helping her father.

With nowhere to turn and no one to rely on, Cao Pei’er could only try her luck in Liangzhou first and see what came of it.

With that thought settled, she tucked the sickle into her waistband, patted the flatbread and few taels of silver she had slipped into her breast pocket, and prepared to get up and walk toward Liangzhou.

But after just a few steps, she heard voices drifting from behind her — it sounded like the maidservant who usually attended her. “That’s strange — where has the commander’s wife got to? When I went to bring her breakfast, the tent was empty.”

A sentry’s voice replied, “What, you think someone actually kidnapped that great hulking woman? Now if someone like you went missing, the lads would definitely go looking — ha ha ha ha!”

The maidservant laughed along with the joke. “Listen to you. Though I suppose you’re right — the commander’s wife is head over heels for him. You couldn’t kick her away even if you tried.”

The sentries snickered among themselves. “She’s only got her father being Cao Sheng to thank for any of it — she ought to take a good look at herself. What makes her think she’s worthy of our commander? And last night she still had the nerve to go barging in out of jealousy… If I were the commander, just looking at her would be enough to make a man lose all his spirit — ha ha ha ha…”

As the laughter and mocking voices gradually faded into the distance, Cao Pei’er sat motionless behind the hill. For one long moment, something frightening passed across her face — not the most beautiful of faces even in the best of times.

She chopped a few bunches of grass, then wrapped her face in her cloth, tucked the bundle of grass under her arm, and turned back — walked straight back into camp.

Back in her tent, she put away the cook woman’s clothes. The maidservant who had been out searching for her came rushing in and nearly collided with her.

“Oh, my lady — where did you go? I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

The maid glanced carefully at Cao Pei’er’s swollen, red-rimmed eyes, knowing she must have cried the whole night through, and wondering uneasily whether she was about to find something to take her frustrations out on.

But Cao Pei’er only stared at her in silence for a long moment, then without a word took the tray from the maid’s hands, sat down at the table, and began to eat with large, deliberate bites.

* * *

Qiu Zhen, for his part, had no idea about the scene his neglected wife had made in the small hours of the morning. He had already led the rebel forces out and was advancing on Jingzhou.

The garrison at Jingzhou was waiting with every preparation made, ready and waiting for Qiu Zhen to come and attempt the city.

But Qiu Zhen had not come for the wine — he had other intentions entirely. He ordered his men to set up empty tents and go through all the motions of digging fire pits, and had them construct fortifications around the camp to create the appearance that the entire main force was assembled beneath the city walls.

Meanwhile, a hand-picked elite force of a thousand men had already set off in the direction of Wild Boar Ridge.

His real target was the Qianxi Grain and Forage Depot, protected by Wild Boar Ridge as its natural barrier.

Though the depot was separated from him by Jingzhou and ringed by Wild Boar Ridge, Qiu Zhen had spent years fighting guerrilla campaigns and knew the surrounding terrain intimately. He personally led his top general Li Xin and the elite troops, cutting through Wild Boar Ridge and driving straight for the Qianxi Grain and Forage Depot.

For this raid to burn down the grain depot, he had made thorough preparations — not only saltpeter explosives, but also planks for bridging the ditches.

No matter how heavily guarded the depot might be, it was still only a rear-area encampment.

The depot had oil-filled fire trenches, but every plank they carried had been coated with lime paste, making them fireproof — lay the planks across the trenches and men could walk straight over. The soldiers who would rush the camp also wore sacks coated with lime paste for insulation against the heat, allowing them to cross the fire trenches unharmed. Beyond the trenches, the elevated platforms could be brought down with thrown saltpeter tubes. Once it came to close combat, sheer numbers would decide the rest.

The men of the Qianxi Grain and Forage Depot, by the most generous count, could not number more than five hundred.

Qiu Zhen had committed everything to this. Not only had he come himself, but he had brought his most capable general along, and every soldier in this force was an elite — enough to wash the grain depot in blood in a matter of moments.

As for Wild Boar Ridge, the rebels knew every inch of the terrain. The paths were complex and heavily branched, yet they moved through them as easily as level ground, advancing at speed. Many of these soldiers had been drilled by Cao Sheng himself — each one an experienced campaigner.

Midway through the march, however, Li Xin — peering through the mountain mist — noticed what appeared to be many overlapping figures clustered among the sparse trees on the ridge opposite.

His heart lurched. He immediately waved the column to a halt, reported to Qiu Zhen, and dispatched scouts to investigate ahead.

Several scouts galloped forward. Before long, they came trotting back with helpless expressions. “There are indeed a lot of figures up ahead, Commander — but when we got close, they turned out to be straw dummies, skewered on sticks and planted along the mountain paths to frighten people.”

Li Xin narrowed his eyes and thought it over. This must be Great Wei’s soldiers noticing a vulnerability in Wild Boar Ridge and coming up with this clumsy remedy. The terrain was too steep and densely forested to garrison properly, so the soldiers had taken the lazy way out — stuffing a batch of straw figures and planting them at key points along the hazardous paths. From a distance, they were reasonably unsettling.

Li Xin had fought alongside Qiu Zhen at the battle of Ghost Tree Forest and naturally remembered how skilled the people of the Qianxi Grain and Forage Depot were at making straw dummies. It had been Han Linfeng’s straw dummies that had fooled them so badly that time.

When Qiu Zhen walked up close, he saw at once that the construction of these straw figures was identical to the ones at Ghost Tree Forest — a few bunches of dry grass stuffed into a uniform, and the thing was done.

That Han Linfeng must have enjoyed some success with the trick and grown attached to it — he could not even be bothered to vary his methods. Truly a man who intended to ride one tactic all the way to the grave.

Li Xin gave two snide laughs, drew his blade, and knocked the nearest straw figure flat with a single stroke. He turned to Qiu Zhen. “Commander, he’s just afraid someone might come up through Wild Boar Ridge and doesn’t have enough men to guard the mountain. Does he think we’re the crows in a grain field, to be scared off by straw men?”

Looking at these familiar straw figures brought back the humiliating memory of himself wedged in a rock crevice at Ghost Tree Forest. Qiu Zhen gave several cold laughs and waved for the column to press forward.

The scouts sent ahead continued knocking over straw figures and scouting the path, confirming there was no sign of any ambush. The elite column moved on like a great serpent coiled through the deep forest, winding swiftly forward.

By the time they reached a section of Wild Boar Ridge known as Tortoise Shell Plateau, night had already begun to fall.

The name said it all — the terrain there was flat and broad, shaped like an enormous tortoise shell, and made for ideal camp ground.

Evidently, this was where the Great Wei soldiers who had planted the straw figures had done their work. The soldiers themselves were long gone, but the ground was still scattered with bundles of dry grass, along with straw dummies toppled this way and that. A fire pit had been dug in one corner — judging by the residual oil stains, it had been used a few days ago.

The nights in the mountains had been cold lately — camping out here would be miserable — so the Great Wei soldiers had apparently left behind nothing but their straw figures and retreated long since.

Qiu Zhen gauged the hour. A little further and they would be through Wild Boar Ridge.

They would arrive at the Qianxi Grain and Forage Depot in the dead of night.

A surprise strike at this speed would blast the sleeping depot soldiers out of their dreams in terror.

After all, every eye in the world was fixed on Jingzhou, where Zhao Dong held command. The Qianbei Camp, which might otherwise have come to reinforce Qianxi, had already broken camp and marched for Jingzhou.

The Qianxi Grain and Forage Depot was now a turtle in a jar — waiting only for him to bring fire and oil and render it properly.

Recalling the earlier intelligence that Maoxiang Money House had apparently been sending silver carts to the Qianxi Depot, Qiu Zhen felt a surge of excitement.

This raid would not allow them to carry away much — they could only burn the grain, cutting off Zhao Dong’s supply. But that silver — every last tael of it — he intended to take with him.

With that decided, he brushed aside General Li Xin’s suggestion to rest briefly at the plateau. He ordered the column not to waste a moment and to keep moving.

Since this was a covert strike, even though night had fallen, no campfires were lit — they moved by moonlight alone.

One soldier, halfway along the march, felt the pressing urge to relieve himself. He slipped quietly out of formation and found a secluded tree root where he could take care of business.

The spot happened to have several straw figures lying scattered about. One of them stood directly in front of him.

The need was too urgent for ceremony — he undid his trousers and let the stream go. But as the sound of it filled the air, he found himself staring straight into the straw figure’s face.

The moonlight was bright, washing everything silver. The soldier was nearly done — when a sudden shiver ran through him from head to toe. Those eyes on the straw figure… were they moving?

His expression twisted in mounting horror, and he was just drawing breath to cry out when, from the corner of his eye, another straw figure to his side abruptly lurched upright, stepped behind him, and clamped a hand over his mouth.

The one standing before him rolled its whites of its eyes, and drove an ice-cold dagger into his heart.

The last words this soldier heard before he died were: “You dare urinate on me? You’re looking to die.”

Night pressed down, deep-forest shadows swayed, and from somewhere along the serpent’s trailing tail, men had been quietly, steadily vanishing — no one knew quite when it had begun.

As the column pushed through Tortoise Shell Plateau, a soldier came running up to Li Xin in a panic from the rear. “Commander — there’s… there’s something wrong in the mountains. I think it’s haunted…”

Li Xin glared at him and kicked him flat. “What kind of nonsense are you spouting? Do you want to shake the men’s nerve? Say another word like that and I’ll have your head.”

The soldier’s face crumpled miserably. “Commander Li — I had over twenty brothers behind me just now, but when I looked back, every last one of them was gone. They hadn’t moved ahead of me — I’d have noticed. And yet, somehow, they’re all just… gone. Maybe it’s so dark… maybe they lost their way?”

A chill ran up Qiu Zhen’s scalp.

Column discipline on a night march depended on maintaining proper spacing between men — precisely because, when moving fast, anyone who got separated would have their neighbors to catch the gap. Under normal circumstances, twenty-odd men could not simply step out of formation and advance without a trace.

If the soldier was telling the truth, where in the world had those men gone? Even if wild animals had been dragging people off in the dark, twenty bodies could not simply vanish from thin air.

Qiu Zhen raised his head and looked slowly around. He realized he had already crossed through the flat ground of Tortoise Shell Plateau and entered a low mountain valley. The head and belly of his serpentine column had already descended into the gorge.

And the straw figures on the slopes surrounding the valley… had multiplied without his noticing, now dense and thick, scattered absolutely everywhere.

Under the dark canopy of night, these human-shaped figures created a deeply unsettling presence.

But Qiu Zhen had no time to dwell on it. Those twenty-odd missing men had probably been led astray by whoever was at the head of their section — the whole tail of the column wandering off course.

The timing was too tight to stop and search. He pressed ahead toward the Qianxi Grain and Forage Depot.

But just then, a scream of agony erupted from the rear again, followed immediately by a man’s terrified voice: “A ghost — a ghost — ahhh!”

This time the cold traveled straight up Qiu Zhen’s spine. He abandoned all thought of secrecy and barked the order: “Light the torches — now!”

When the torches blazed up and lit the surroundings, everyone turned to look at the rear of the column. Dozens of bodies lay sprawled across the ground, chests and bellies torn open by wounds still welling dark blood.

Could there truly be a blood-drinking demon in these mountains?

Fear was spreading through the entire column. Every man was turning in desperate circles, staring wildly in all directions — when the straw figures scattered all around them suddenly came alive. Each one ignited a bundle of dry-grass wrapping and hurled it into the rebel formation below.

The column had marched into a deep ravine. The bundles dropped and detonated with thunderous blasts. The great serpentine column was blown apart into several broken sections.

Even as rebel soldiers howled and shrieked in the pandemonium, some still managed to shout that it was haunted. But Qiu Zhen’s mind was perfectly clear.

He had fallen into Han Linfeng’s trap again.

These were not straw dummies scattered across the mountain — they were enemies dressed as straw dummies. His men had first had their courage broken by their comrades disappearing without explanation, and then been terrified all over again by an entire mountainside of moving figures.

What came next was even more overwhelming. In truth, the explosive packages thrown by the straw figures were not especially powerful.

But catastrophe struck when, in the chaos, one of the rebels accidentally ignited the saltpeter explosives his own unit was carrying with a lit torch.

The stuff Qiu Zhen had personally refined was nothing short of pure. After one sky-splitting boom, many rebel soldiers were launched bodily into the air, only to come apart and scatter as fragments.

The entire ravine filled with thick, roiling smoke, bodies strewn everywhere. When the blasts finally fell silent, the rebel soldiers scrambled over one another in flight — only to be surrounded on all sides by the swarming straw figures, cut down where they stood.

Qiu Zhen had not expected Han Linfeng to turn his own methods against him, using saltpeter explosives — his greatest weapon — to pay him back in kind.

Understanding the battle was lost, he gave up on his men entirely and tried to use his knowledge of Wild Boar Ridge’s terrain to slip away in the confusion.

But the moment he turned to retreat, a sword came slicing at him, followed by a burst of sword-flower flourishes exploding before his eyes.

Looking more carefully, Qiu Zhen saw that a tall straw figure had come at him, blade in hand — and the sword strokes were wickedly precise, aimed squarely at his face.

Within moments, his handsome features had been carved with several deep gashes.

After a few exchanges, the grass covering the figure’s face began to fall away — and there was none other than his sworn enemy, Han Linfeng.

Was this man toying with him like a cat with a mouse? Why was he specifically targeting his face?

Qiu Zhen was furious. He shouted, “Han Linfeng — what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Han Linfeng brushed the dry grass from his face, revealing his handsome features, and fixed his gaze on Qiu Zhen’s blood-seeping cuts with a look of dark, deeply aggrieved satisfaction. “Nothing much — just doing a little work on your face.”

Having been beaten by Han Linfeng multiple times now, Qiu Zhen had no appetite for a prolonged fight. He fell back step by step while his personal guards surged forward to cover his retreat.

But Han Linfeng had no intention of letting Qiu Zhen leave alive this time. As the man retreated, Han Linfeng drove a sword thrust hard toward his chest.

Unfortunately, Qiu Zhen was too slippery — he twisted aside at the last instant, and the blade struck off-center.

Qiu Zhen seized the opportunity and let out a great shout, pitching himself straight backward.

Behind him was a cliff face. He tumbled down through the dense undergrowth and disappeared from sight.

The night ambush ended swiftly. The remaining rebel soldiers were captured to the last man, roped together with grass cord in long strings, and marched down the mountain.

Afterward, Han Linfeng took men to search the cliff for Qiu Zhen’s body, but the terrain there was too treacherous for a thorough search. The scoundrel was apparently blessed with extraordinary luck — he had slipped away again.

In this engagement, the Qianxi Grain and Forage Depot forces had fought from a position of full preparation against an unsuspecting enemy. With ease, they captured close to a thousand rebel soldiers and eliminated over two hundred, winning a decisive victory.

* * *

When word reached the rebel camp, morale plummeted instantly.

Someone in the command tent said furiously, “We were already short on food and clothing. Now we’ve thrown away this many brothers for nothing — and these were men from the elite First Heaven Company. How are we supposed to take Jingzhou now?”

Once someone started, the rest joined in with a torrent of complaints and arguments.

Qiu Zhen’s purges earlier had cleared out Cao Sheng’s closest partisans and loyalists, but the men who remained were far from all fully committed to him. It was only because Qiu Zhen now held sole military authority — and there was no one strong enough to defy him — that they held their tongues and complied.