Chapter 4

"Your Highness, I'm so scared."

"Darling, don't be afraid, they have more people."

"Your Highness, it's dangerous outside. Let's go back this time."

"Going back would still be worse than death." The young woman's eyes showed despair. The wind blew, lifting the dust-covered hem of her clothes, making her look particularly pitiful.

They spoke in a very low voice, and Wang Ju couldn't hear them, but he glared at them fiercely.

Don't joke around. If these crazy bandits discovered the ambush, who knows how many people would die.

Pian'er curled her lips and made a dismissive gesture. However, the two of them closed their mouths.

The young woman scanned Wang Ju with her eyes. How old is this little brat, twelve, thirteen, or fourteen? He was tanned from staying in the mountains and looked thin due to malnutrition, so she couldn't really tell. But he was probably around that age. What could he do at this age?

He really is an outstanding young man.

Wang Ju stared outside.

Several horses charged down from the mountaintop and quickly galloped to the mountain path near Wang Ju. The leader suddenly pulled the reins.

Wang Ju was startled.

Before the ambush, he had checked two or three times, but they weren't on horseback. Did they discover the villagers' ambush?

At this moment, his heart was in his throat. It was very quiet around, almost letting him hear his own heartbeat. He turned to look at Zhu Qing beside him. Zhu Qing was even more scared, with large beads of sweat on his forehead.

But there was no movement. The two of them carefully peered through the leaves at the mountain path.

Five horses, with five men on them, each holding a saber. The leader held a phoenix-mouth saber, and two others carried black-painted bows. They were whispering, but it was unclear what they were saying. Zhu Qing let out a breath, but the danger still existed. If they observed carefully, they might discover the ambush...

All of them were masked. This was common knowledge, as they were so detested by the people, not only by the commoners but also by officials and gentry, and even by the people on the other side of the mountain, so they couldn't be exposed. However, one of the men, feeling the heat, lifted his mask and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

Wang Ju and Zhu Qing saw the two characters under the mask: Zhenwu!

Trouble is here.

The villagers in the village also carried knives, but they were simple knives. However, simple knives were the worst type of knives in the Song Dynasty, so they were omitted in Zeng Gongliang's "Comprehensive Essentials of Military Affairs." The true standard military knives in the Song Dynasty were hand knives, hanging knives, curved knives, crescent moon knives, halberds, eyebrow-tipped knives, phoenix-mouth knives, and pen knives. The last seven were long-handled knives, while the hand knife was a short-handled knife, which was the same as the saber.

The villagers in the village also carried bows, but they were mulberry wood bows. However, the black-painted bows were not mulberry wood bows; they were one of the four standard bows of the Song army, along with the yellow-white birch bow and the hemp-backed bow. These four types of bows were all true composite bows!

However, the knives and bows couldn't prove anything. If there was a way, even the villagers could obtain them.

But this tattoo... it's from the Zhenwu Camp soldiers.

No wonder...!

Zhu Qing understood, and Wang Ju understood. No wonder the court couldn't suppress this band of bandits, no wonder they always won in battles, and every attack was successful, and every robbery was precise!

Because they were originally the court's imperial soldiers. Without a hideout, they were bandits when out and soldiers when in. Where could they be suppressed?

To conduct private trade with the Western Xia, they had to bribe these soldiers. Therefore, they knew every transaction in detail. If they couldn't rob, they would take a bribe; if they could rob, they would rob. And because they knew everything, every robbery was precise.

The five men never thought that a group of villagers would dare to ambush them in the bushes on both sides of the mountain path. After their whispered conversation, the leader looked at the mountain path, which was rugged and strewn with nearly a hundred single-wheeled carts, and many villagers were fleeing down the hill. Some saw the five tall horses carrying bandits rushing down and hurriedly fled into the forest.

"Ha ha ha..." The leader of the bandits laughed heartily.

Then he drew his phoenix-mouth saber and spurred his horse, which galloped down the hill even faster. This was inevitable. The mountain people were fierce, and if they weren't killed once, they would develop a "lucky" mentality and resist. If they were thoroughly intimidated, everyone would flee at the sight of them, and they would successfully rob with minimal losses each time.

But this time they were a bit unlucky, as there was an unusual person among the villagers!

Several mounted bandits charged down, followed by a large group of foot soldiers.

Sweat appeared on Zhu Qing's forehead again.

Wang Ju's forehead also glistened with sweat. He quietly watched outside, not daring to speak for fear of alarming the people on the mountain path. He then turned to look at the side, where Wang Quan was, and further away, his second uncle Wang Wei and the other villagers.

They were also very nervous, but they didn't realize that these bandits were actually soldiers.

This required some knowledge. The villagers in Wang's village lived in a closed and backward environment, and almost no one could read. Even if they saw the tattoo, they wouldn't think much of it.

The mountain wind blew, and the thorny grass continuously slapped their faces, causing some itching and pain, but no one paid attention.

Wang Ju looked at Zhu Qing again. Perhaps Zhu Qing was regretting it now. After all, it was just some private goods. If there were no other valuable items, just salt, it wouldn't be worth more than a thousand strings of coins.

If they had fled quickly just now, the loss would have been only a thousand strings of coins.

But now, regardless of the outcome of the battle, his employer might be in trouble.

A large group of bandits went down, and he said in a low voice, "Mr. Zhu, the arrow is on the string, and it must be released. At this point, we can only fight. Otherwise, if these bandits discover our ambush and organize, everyone will die without a trace."

Zhu Qing swallowed hard.

"Surprise them, and we can still win. If we can't surprise them, how many will survive? Maybe some, but not me, and not you."

Don't think about the trouble afterward; first, we must survive.

They spoke in a very low voice.

However, his second uncle and the old clan leader Wang Quan still turned to look at them. Although they couldn't hear what they were saying, any disagreement at this moment would be disastrous.

Zhu Qing remained silent.

"Heaven and earth are vast, but life is the most important," Wang Ju said solemnly.

Whatever trouble comes later, we must get through this first.

"Kill... kill!"

Wang Ju looked outside and soon growled two words, making a decisive gesture.

...

Several dozen bandits continued to run, but their speed slowed down.

The poor villagers were in a panic, not knowing how to run, but they finally reached the bottom of the mountain. They only needed to kill a few dozen to achieve their main goal, which was the hundreds of stones of blue salt. If they were lucky, there might be other more valuable items.

The Western Xia had poor resources, but they weren't completely barren. They had livestock, fur, felt, medicine, especially the rhubarb from Ganzhou and blue salt. They also had jewels, wool, incense, and other items from the Uighurs, as well as the swords and fine bows produced by the Western Xia. A fine bow from the Western Xia was worth hundreds of strings of coins, almost dozens of times more than a Song bow.

If these cursed private goods contained the items mentioned, the harvest would be even greater.

The leading bandits continued to charge down the mountain, and the main group of bandits had already reached the single-wheeled carts.

The private trade couldn't be exposed, and they couldn't be exposed either.

They had to immediately move the goods.

The harsh sound of the cart wheels grinding started again.

Unlike the villagers, they had fewer people, so each person had to push a cart, and some, who were stronger, had to push two carts. After one trip, they had to come back for the second trip.

It was an uphill road, which consumed more energy. But compared to the profits from the goods, this hard work was nothing.

At this moment, a dense shower of feathered arrows shot out from the bushes on both sides of the mountain path.