Qiao Tianya led his men out of the inn, but the two they were pursuing were already gone. Fei Sheng mounted from behind, pointing west. “Since he’s alert, he must know we can’t linger here. He won’t stay in town long—he’ll likely bypass the roads and head toward Cizhou.”
According to what Qiao Tianya knew, Shen Zechuan should still be in Cizhou. He tucked the silver ingot back into his chest pocket, about to speak, when Ji Gang’s voice came from behind.
Ji Gang, cloak wrapped tightly, drained the medicine in his hand in one gulp. “No need to pause for me tonight. Mount up—we head to Cizhou immediately. Whatever happens, we must inform Chuan’er first.”
Concerned for Shen Zechuan’s safety, Qiao Tianya gestured for the imperial guards to hold the horses. Ji Gang mounted, straightened his back, snapped the reins, and charged toward the town gate.
Kunling’s legs ached unbearably, yet he said nothing, gritting his teeth as he followed the man’s horse. As Fei Sheng had anticipated, they did not linger in the town, quickly leaving and taking a detour.
“Bear with me a few more hours,” the man shouted over his shoulder while urging the horse, “we’ll reach Cizhou before dawn!”
Kunling panted, nodding. “All these side paths… they won’t catch us, right?”
“But the rain has stopped,” the man replied, showing no sign of exhaustion despite the long ride. “Our trail is no longer concealed—they’ll pursue faster!”
Kunling tugged at his robe on his knees, gritted his teeth. “Run! Brave man, keep going! Once we reach Cizhou, danger will be over.”
Yet off the main road, the path was muddy, and the horses could not maintain speed. They trudged painfully, Kunling watching the man’s back with gratitude. “Thanks to you, brave man. Once in Cizhou, if you insist on serving Lei Changming, I’ll pick you the finest horse.”
The man laughed heartily. “Sir, you overpraise me. This is my duty. I am but a fighter; some matters require a learned man like you. I respect you greatly. Tonight, that is enough for me.”
Kunling, deeply moved, felt this man was a true hero. His thoughts turned to Shen Zechuan, who had faltered at a critical moment. He wiped his eyes on his sleeve. “With brave men like you, Zhongbo still has hope! May I ask your name?”
The man glanced back. “Piao Po. A rough name, not worthy of your ears. My parents are simple folk; they tend a few acres. When I was born, there was a drought, and they gave me this name.”
Kunling hurriedly said, “Brother Piao Po is a hero. A name is but a label—I am honored to hear it!”
It was too dark to see the road clearly. Perhaps Piao Po had chosen a hidden path—there were truly no pursuers behind. Kunling pounded his legs, occasionally glancing at the sky, and finally saw faint morning light and the distant walls of Cizhou.
“Sir,” Piao Po suddenly pulled his horse, guiding Kunling. “Tell the city to open the gates—we’re going to see Lord Zhou!”
They broke from the trail, splashing through puddles, arriving at Cizhou’s walls. Kunling clung to his horse’s neck, exhausted, straightened his beard, and croaked hoarsely, “It’s me!”
From the battlements, a general looked down in surprise. “Mr. Chengfeng!”
“Hurry, fetch the lord!” Kunling slid from the horse, handing the reins to Piao Po. “Tell him I’ve returned!”
“Open the gates directly,” Piao Po said.
Kunling nodded, gasping. He bent over, resting on his knees. “Let me catch my breath, then we enter. Only meeting the lord can prevent suspicion, or the city guards will delay us.”
Soon, Zhou Gui arrived in haste, spotting Kunling above. “Chengfeng, what’s going on? Quick, open the gates!”
The city gates creaked as soldiers lifted the crossbeam and pushed them open. Morning light spilled through the gap. Kunling wiped his sweat and stepped in. Zhou Gui hurried down to meet him.
But Kunling’s expression changed abruptly. “Close the gates!”
The guards at the gate hesitated. In that instant, Piao Po sprang into action. Grabbing Kunling by the collar, he dragged him backward. Kunling stumbled, half-kneeling, and shouted to Zhou Gui, “This man is a traitor! Shoot him—do not let him escape!”
Zhou Gui stepped forward. “Seize him!”
The once-docile horse reared, kicking, toppling the guards at the gate. Piao Po vaulted onto the horse, charging through the gate while dragging Kunling, whose body dangled precariously from the saddle, legs scraping the ground.
The force!
This strength rivaled Xiao Chiyu’s.
Kunling struggled in vain, his back hitting the iron fittings of the saddle, chest nearly crushed. He looked skyward, straining against Piao Po’s grip, kicking his legs, shouting, “Zhou Gui… shoot… shoot arrows! He has reinforcements!”
Piao Po clicked his tongue irritably, hoisting Kunling higher, and yelled to the soldiers spilling from the gate, “Fire! Zhou Gui, you shoot! Let’s see who dies first—me or Mr. Chengfeng!”
Zhou Gui, a civil official, pushed his guards aside, shouting, “Stop at once!”
Kunling’s face flushed crimson as he clawed at his collar. Piao Po leaned close, smiling. “Sir, you’ve been so sharp. All along you thought me a hero—why the sudden betrayal?”
“The troops of Dantai and Dantai Long!” Kunling panted. “They’re from the eastern three-three prefectures, unfamiliar with Cizhou roads!”
Piao Po laughed loudly, settling his horse. “I see! You played your part convincingly. But now that I’ve reached Cizhou, do you think tricking me into the gates would end it?”
He tilted his head, spitting contemptuously.
“No time!”
From behind, the missing pursuers emerged. Though lacking uniform armor, their numbers were terrifying. Clad in various garments, wielding swords and spears, they swept out from the woods, and Kunling’s gaze could not reach the end.
“Months ago, I had Lei Changming tell you we needed grain,” Lei Jingzhe roared, throwing Kunling to the ground while holding his horse. He signaled to Zhou Gui. “Do you think two thousand troops can intimidate me? I repeatedly sent envoys urging your surrender, but you delayed! Zhou Gui, you’re aiding rebels. Today I cleanse Cizhou of evil for the people!”
Seeing the overwhelming force, Zhou Gui felt his courage falter. He clutched a companion for support, stammering, “I can open the granaries… but spare the citizens!”
Lei Jingzhe cracked his whip; the bandits laughed. His horse’s hooves trampled around Kunling, herding him roughly. “This granary is mine now! You talk of conditions?!”
Zhou Gui staggered. “Last year, during famine, we fed half a granary to your Luoshan bandits. Without it, many would have starved! Can’t you spare the people?”
“What nonsense,” Lei Jingzhe’s face darkened. “Last year’s grain? I had Lei Changming pay for it.”
Indeed, Lei Changming paid—but at cheap rates for coarse rice, far less than the value of the good rice taken. The payment barely covered even the town’s beggars.
Zhou Gui, shocked by such audacity, pounded his chest. “Are you even human?! Today, you shall not enter the city!”
Lei Jingzhe had run out of patience. Knowing Lei Changming’s deception would soon be revealed and that the imperial troops might be en route, he growled, “Zhou Gui, I just want to enter the city for a few days. Must you attack a stone with an egg?!”
Kunling, trembling in the mud, let out a cold laugh, waving his sleeve at Lei Jingzhe. “A few days? You cannot control the city! When Lei Changming comes, dozens of Cizhou daughters will die! I spit on your so-called virtue! Letting you in is death—better I die with my people!”
Whips lashed at Kunling’s back, tearing his flesh. He had hoped to capture the man at the gate but found the troops pressing close. Grieving for his misplaced trust, he vomited onto the ground.
Lei Jingzhe spurred forward, charging Zhou Gui with his men. “We enter the city! Once appointed by the court, we are Cizhou’s defenders, purging rebels!”
Zhou Gui saw the ferocious horses and flashing blades, feeling dizzy yet standing firm. “I may die today, but you shall not enter!”
Sunlight pierced the clouds, golden rays surging like a tidal wave. Zhou Gui watched, wide-eyed, as the blades neared his gates. At that moment, a shrill bowstring twang split the air, skimming the ground, an arrow hurtling toward Lei Jingzhe’s head.
The Overlord Bow stood firm in the wind. Xiao Chiyu, amidst stunned onlookers, held the drawn bow, his thumb lock showing a gleaming, lethal gaze behind the string.