Before dawn, along the eastern and northern shores of Liangshan Marsh, the prefectures, counties, and villages were restless and uneasy. The county seats had shut their gates; atop the walls, the soldiers and constables on watch had all risen, staring out into the darkness. In villages and stockades without walls, where people clustered together, local headmen and constables had been roused from sleep by messengers. They woke the villagers and farmhands, who came out bearing knives and spears. Many households were startled awake and lit lamps, only to be urged to snuff them out again — the points of light flickering on and off. Then everyone stood guard in the darkness against whatever lay outside. In the night wind, only the barking of dogs occasionally carried through.
Liangshan had fallen. The bandits had begun to scatter and flee. This news spread outward at the fastest possible speed in the early morning hours. Before this, even the best-informed people had only known that the Wurui Battalion began its assault on Liangshan on the twentieth of the sixth month — and that within two days, Liangshan had fallen.
The distance was too great for ordinary villagers nearby to fully grasp Liangshan’s strength. To most of them, news that the government troops had returned in defeat was nothing unusual, and news that the Liangshan bandits had scattered seemed equally to be expected — neither force was something they could presume to judge. Only the bandits fleeing after the battle had any real bearing on their daily lives.
And indeed, along the ridges and shores stretching east and north of the marsh, the defeated Liangshan forces were making landfall and fleeing in different directions. Among them were large organized bands, as well as pairs and trios of friends and kin. On the north shore of the marsh, the night wind fanned the flames — three great ships, pursued by government warships, were already ablaze, and one of them finally struck a reef not far from shore and could go no further.
Behind them, the government ships pressed the pursuit — arrows, javelins, and casting nets flew. The lead commander led his soldiers down onto the ships, and fighting broke out in a tangle across the shallows and the trees along the shore. On the Liangshan side, several leaders fought desperately, shouting for everyone to charge into the woods. Under cover of night, several hundred people fled toward the surrounding fields, villages, and wild forests.
In some places, people came ashore in small boats along banks thick with weeds and loose stones, helping their wives or family members down, packs on their backs. They clutched the blades in their hands, or else threw their weapons into the water, looked back once at the night, and finally left — praying in their hearts that they would not be caught on the road ahead.
On the eastern shore of the marsh, a run-down little fishing village still lay submerged in the darkness of night. A thin, small girl born to a fisherman’s family had already risen, carrying a wooden bucket to fetch water at the tiny dock by the village. When the night wind blew, she crouched there, closed her eyes, and breathed in the cool morning air — and then a strange disturbance reached her.
She opened her eyes wide and looked ahead, but she could make out little. Then… a massive silhouette came surging through the waves, suddenly appearing before her.
The girl froze for a moment, then turned to run — and then came a thunderous crash as the warship smashed the wooden dock and drove up onto the shore, shattering the stillness of the night.
One ship, then another, then two, then three… the restless air began to fill with firelight as crowds came down off the ships, beginning to overwhelm the small, run-down fishing village. Fire appeared in some of the houses; dogs barked, and then arrows shot down from the ships, striking true through the throats of the dogs. Beneath the first ship driven up onto the shore, the girl who had come for water had both her legs broken; her whole body lay crushed in a pile of wreckage, sobbing, still trembling. The leader who came down from the ship looked at her, hesitated a moment, then shook his head.
“Girl, I’ll free you from this,” he said, drawing his blade and driving it into her throat. Blood sprayed out, and the girl finally stopped moving.
Wave after wave of people came down off the ships amid endless restless noise. Soldiers drove the startled villagers, herding some of the family members and leaders into houses to rest briefly. The dead girl’s remaining family came out of their house; her father, shoved around by Liangshan soldiers, began to weep, then picked up a nearby wooden pitchfork to fight to the death. He was cut down instantly, pitchfork and all, in a single stroke, then kicked aside into a pile of debris, blood soaking the ground.
“A bunch of trash! Trying to hurt my brother!” the leader bellowed, glaring at the remaining family members and the villagers being herded about. “Grandfather here has spared your worthless lives — don’t you dare push your luck. Anyone who keeps pestering me, Grandfather will kill just like that one!”
Nearly four thousand people gathered briefly near this fishing village, then regrouped according to the newly reorganized leadership structure. As dawn approached, on the wind came the voice of Song Jiang.
“…I, Song Jiang, Song Gongming, have spent my life trying my utmost to make friends and honor loyalty. Whenever a brother was in trouble, I gave my all to help, without fail. I too once aspired to serve the country, but unfortunately treacherous men held sway at court and framed me, leaving me no choice but to take to the greenwood. I only wished to keep one clean patch of earth at Liangshan, so that we children of the rivers and lakes could live here and have a way to survive… But tonight, everyone has seen what happened atop Liangshan. That man pressed us mercilessly, unwilling to leave us any way to live… I, Song Jiang, swear here and now that as long as I live, I will not share the same sky as that man…”
“…I gathered with my brothers at Liangshan in righteousness — coming and going as I pleased. It remains so today… That Liangshan has come to this state is my own incompetence, and no fault of the brothers on the mountain who turned against us — they faced life and death, forced by that devil, with no other choice… But the brothers here today are the ones Song Jiang trusts most. We must not repeat past mistakes… From this day forward, I promise all of you, I will cut a bloody path through this predicament together with my brothers, and I will make that mind-twisting devil answer for this injustice…”
The words carried on,段 by段, swallowed by the wind. Before long, several dozen captured government soldiers were brought up onto a platform, and one by one the men went up and killed them — hacking and stabbing with blade and spear until blood covered the ground and the corpses were nearly hacked to pieces. The fishing village and the warships beside it burst into roaring flame. Among the villagers gathered off to the side, weeping, some cried out too.
“…If you want someone to blame, blame the government troops! We’ve been driven to the point of having nowhere else to turn! But even so, we of Liangshan hold to righteousness — today we take only your money and grain, not your lives! For everything else, go demand it from the government! There are fish in the water and the rice in the fields will soon ripen — we’ve left you a way to live. From now on, mind yourselves well, and don’t collude with the authorities to do evil, or the day we heroes of Liangshan return will be the day your heads roll!”
On the twenty-second of the sixth month, Liangshan — which had once gathered nearly sixty thousand people in righteous union across the marsh — had been completely scattered. Yet even though the slaughter atop Liangshan had been horrifying, aside from the four thousand who fled in organized fashion under Song Jiang, several thousand more had also chosen to flee amid the collapse. Among them were groups like the one Lin Chong organized, leading those around him to cover their escape, as well as various scattered bands led by minor leaders large and small. Over the following days, this spread unrest and a tense, murderous atmosphere across the land around the marsh.
This strange, sweeping victory was, in a sense, exhilarating after all. With this fact as its foundation, the informed people in the surrounding prefectures and counties largely came to sense just how formidable this young man from the capital was. Whoever he was, to bring a group of people here, work some scheme, and cause Liangshan to collapse so thoroughly — that alone inspired an awe verging on reverence in anyone, not to mention that he carried the trust of the Right Chancellor, making him surely one of the most outstanding figures from the capital. Under this influence, the surrounding prefectures and counties dared not drag their feet. Over the following days they searched and cordoned off the area, capturing quite a few Liangshan stragglers.
And beyond the reach of official authority, the villages and strongholds here in Shandong already possessed their own means of self-defense — partly out of concern for their own safety, and partly because, once a wall falls, everyone gives it a push. Though the collapse of Liangshan did lead to numerous clashes and many lost lives, the resilience of the local communities proved to be the highest of all — it wasn’t as simple as showing up with a blade and stealing a melon from a farmer’s field; one had to be ready to be beaten to death for it. During this period, only a few larger bands of stragglers caused real trouble for the surrounding area, and the one with by far the greatest impact was the group of over three thousand led by Song Jiang.
Over two or three days, these three thousand-odd men fled at breakneck speed, looting money and grain and burning houses wherever they passed, though they killed comparatively few. They then spread word that the government had driven them to this desperate extremity, applying pressure on the authorities from this angle. During this time, they were once cornered by government troops, but the Wurui Battalion numbered only some twenty thousand men and, divided as it was, lacked the strength to hold the blockade. After a fierce clash, the three thousand-plus men — now hardened into desperate outlaws — finally broke through.
On the third day of Song Jiang’s rampage, at noon, on a barren ridge in the wilderness, Lin Chong stood leading his horse and carrying his spear, taking leave of the more than two hundred men around him.
“All my life… I’ve known nothing but wielding spear and staff — my character and virtue both lacking, which is why I was driven to lose my family and forced up Liangshan. All you brothers thought too highly of me, and Lin Chong feels the shame of it in his heart. Now that Liangshan has scattered, there’d be nothing wrong with joining another mountain with you all — but there are matters I must attend to first, so I’ll go on ahead alone. If, someday, Lin Chong returns and can find word of you all, I will surely come to reunite with you, brothers…”
In Liangshan’s final days, the scheming of Song Jiang and Wu Yong, and the fracturing of the entire mountain, had been more or less understood by senior leaders like Lin Chong. That they hadn’t summoned him was because of the wariness stirred up by that remark from Ning Yi — he could understand it, and in truth, even if they had called him, he wouldn’t have gone along. This time, having broken out alongside a group of trusted brothers, now that the immediate disaster had eased, he was leaving — and everyone, in truth, understood why. He had once gone to the Su family’s estate; that man would not let him go, and he had no wish to implicate these brothers further.
His resolve to leave was firm. The others tried to persuade him to stay for a while, then bid him a reluctant farewell.
And as Liangshan’s collapse and the chaos of the bandits spread, something else was spreading too — carried, from that morning of the twenty-second, by the mouths of some who chose to leave.
“…Song Jiang, all his life, whether facing friend or foe, has always acted with honor and could face anyone with a clear conscience. Even against enemies, he could meet them in open battle, fair and square. We in the greenwood beg our meals out of desperation, but principle and righteousness must still be upheld… Yet this bloody-handed butcher Ning Liheng today knows only cruelty — killing without restraint, his schemes vicious and treacherous. We brothers of Liangshan originally gathered out of loyalty and honor, but under this man’s scheming and coercion, brother turned against brother, kinsman against kinsman — truly the most tragic thing in this world… Yet if not for this man’s vicious scheming, none of this would ever have happened! For one man to manipulate and incite people’s hearts to such a degree — if this continues, what honor can remain among us of the greenwood at all…”
“…Song Jiang does not know whether he can defeat this man. All of you have brothers and family, and if you wish to leave now, Song Jiang understands, and will provide travel funds accordingly. I only ask that you spread word of this man’s evil deeds, and of what happened at Liangshan, through your own mouths. If this man remains, there will be no honor left in the greenwood — anyone could become a puppet in his hands. This… all of you must guard against.”
These words carried no formal “call to arms” — they simply spread through the greenwood and the rivers and lakes from that day on, in the name of “Protector of Righteousness” Song Jiang. His name might not carry as far through the martial world of the Wu Dynasty as that of the Sage Duke, Fang La, but the reputation for benevolence attached to titles like “Protector of Righteousness” and “Timely Rain” still carried enormous weight. Over the following days, the news spread only gradually, the coming storm still quietly brewing — only a few people truly understood the power such rumors could hold.
“Since we’ve already dealt him a blow that’s made his life a living hell, we’d best be prepared for him to strike back.” The moment he learned of this news, Ning Yi fell silent for a long while, then broke into an easy laugh. “‘Heart Demon’ Ning Liheng — heh, that’s a pretty striking nickname. I wonder if I’ll end up on the same level as Fang La as some kind of great demon lord one day…”
In truth, at this moment when both of them were fully focused on dealing with Song Jiang and his men, both he and Song Jiang somewhat underestimated the ripples this matter would ultimately set off. Seen from the opposite side of Ning Yi’s position, this was, without exaggeration, the beginning of a “martial world calamity” that would stretch on for more than a decade…
For now, all of this was still only quietly brewing, its first signs spreading along with word of the final stages of Liangshan’s annihilation. In these same days, some visitors from Lüliang Mountain had also just quietly arrived within Shandong’s borders, and then…
“…I’ll f***ing kill you — why don’t you all just die?! Hurry up and die! Why didn’t you say sooner you were trying to kidnap someone like this?! I traveled all this way with you bastards, and you’re all sick of living, coming here to die! Kidnap him?! Sixty thousand men died in front of him! God damn it… forget the rest of my pay, go buy coffins! When I get back to Lüliang Mountain I’m going to laugh at every single one of you, you bunch of bastards! I want to go hooome, home, home, home, home—”
Such words rang out somewhere, no one quite knew where. Under that same sky, on the surface of a small river entering Shandong, a figure stood upon a light skiff, drifting downstream with the current — clad in a red skirt, wearing a wide-brimmed hat, an ancient sword upon her back, like an immortal treading the waves, passing through the dawn and stepping into the twilight—