Chapter 332: The Old Eighth Team Arrives
Chapter 332: The Old Eighth Team Arrives
Luochuan County.
The captains of the seven teams under Bu Zhan Ni’s command were gathering together.
After the infighting between the Second Team’s Dian Deng Zi and the Seventh Team’s Ye Bu Shou left both teams routed, Bu Zhan Ni had appointed two new captains. They now had seven teams once again.
Their designations were: First Team: Yan Qianer; Second Team: Double-Winged Tiger; Third Team: Li Jinwang; Fourth Team: Scorpion Block; Fifth Team: Old Zhang Fei; Sixth Team: King of Chaotic Times; Seventh Team: Purple Gold Dragon.
With such a formidable force, they practically swaggered through Luochuan County.
Not long before, when Yang He had first taken office, the commanders of the Five Troop Divisions mobilized simultaneously to suppress bandits. Bu Zhan Ni had briefly been forced to lay low and behave himself. But then, the Jurchens breached the border, and all five troop divisions went to “Enter the Capital to Serve Wang.” With no officials left in the Northwest, who could possibly rein Bu Zhan Ni in?
He was just smugly reviewing his forces when a subordinate reported, “Boss, a small insurgent group is requesting an audience outside the camp. They wish to join us.”
“A small group?” Bu Zhan Ni frowned. “Exactly how many?”
“Fewer than a thousand,” the subordinate replied.
“Tch,” Bu Zhan Ni scoffed. “Less than a thousand? What use is that?”
The subordinate lowered his voice, “This thousand is different. They are all able-bodied youths. No elderly and weak to burden them. Their spirit is fierce; they are not easy to handle.”
This made Bu Zhan Ni pause. “All able-bodied men? Hmm, that is interesting. Very well, I’ll go see for myself.”
Bu Zhan Ni walked out of the camp and was met with a man so tough-looking, he radiated fierceness.
“I am the Mizhi Daring General,” the man declared—it was Li Zicheng himself. He clasped his hands towards Bu Zhan Ni. “Hearing that Brother Bu Zhan Ni was recruiting talent widely to undertake grand endeavors, I have brought my fellow villagers to join you.”
“The Mizhi Daring General?” Bu Zhan Ni had heard of Mizhi—reports said seven out of ten men there had become bandits, the town was almost deserted, and people joined the rebellion as naturally as returning home.
He surveyed the less-than-a-thousand men behind the Daring General. He hadn’t paid it much mind before, but looking closely now startled him. Though only a few hundred strong, each had a resolute expression and fierce eyes. It was clear they were not to be trifled with.
In battle, the power unleashed by these few hundred men would likely rival that of four or five thousand from other forces. The reputation of the Mizhi people held true.
Bu Zhan Ni’s face broke into a smile. “Brother Daring General, I can tell at a glance you are a stalwart man. Your men are each fierce warriors. You are utterly welcome to join us.”
“I currently have seven captains. Would you mind, Brother Daring General, taking the post of captain for the Eighth Team? From now on, I’ll greet you as ‘Eighth Brother.’ How about that?”
Li Zicheng clasped his hands: “Big Brother!”
In the Third Year of Chongzhen, Li Zicheng led a band of fellow villagers from Mizhi and pledged himself to Bu Zhan Ni, becoming the Captain of the Eighth Team. This was the future, famously ruthless force known as the Old Eighth Team, also called Feng Tian Chang Yi Camp—one of the fiercest groups in the land!
…
Gaojia Village was shrouded in solemn silence.
Cheng Xu returned from Huanglong Mountain, bringing the heads of Wang Zuogua, Feishan Hu, and Big Honglang. A large memorial altar was erected at the center of Gaojia Village, displaying the spirit tablets of four “martyrs.”
Gao Yiye, draped in white mourning robes, stood at the altar as the guiding spiritual figure.
Bai Yuan personally climbed onto the stage and placed the heads of the three bandit leaders before the spirit tablets. These four died for him; he would naturally honor them accordingly.
After the memorial rites, the spirits of the four martyrs were appeased.
Li Daoxuan then spoke, “I now declare: Gaojia Village’s great vengeance is accomplished. Starting today, the ‘Battle Emergency State’ is lifted. The operations at the artisans’ well resume normal function.”
The villagers chorused their assent before returning to their posts, work beginning anew.
On a distant construction site, Old Nan Feng and a group of labor offenders watched the proceedings, expressions complex.
One border army labor offender muttered, “Four people died, and look how grandly they hold it. How many die in just one battle on the border? We never made such a fuss.”
Old Nan Feng snorted. “Don’t talk nonsense. Only by honoring the dead properly can the living feel truly valued. That’s what makes men fight without fear in battle.”
“Eh?”
“Think about it carefully. If you knew your death would be honored like this, would you hesitate or hold back in battle?”
“Understood.”
“Good. Now get back to working.”
Just then, Zhong Gaoliang approached. “Old Nan Feng, there’s something I want to discuss with you.”
Seeing the “Head Guard” arrive, Old Nan Feng straightened up immediately. “Head Guard Zhong, what instructions do you have?”
“Our militia won the battle. You just witnessed it,” Zhong Gaoliang stated.
“We did. What does that have to do with us labor offenders?” Old Nan Feng asked.
“Wang Zuogua’s force was a full ten thousand strong. We weren’t cruel enough to kill them all. This battle resulted in over seven thousand captives becoming labor offenders. Over five thousand of those are elderly and weak, women and children. All are being thrown into the labor camp.”
This shocked Old Nan Feng. “That trash? What’s the point of keeping them? Better to kill them all.”
“The Deity’s stance towards wandering bandits is exactly the same as it was towards you all initially: the ringleaders must die; those following by circumstance get a chance at labor reformation—to see if they can be salvaged.” Zhong Gaoliang cast him a sidelong glance. “Especially the elderly, women, and children; they were often forced into service. Most lacked the capability for plunder or murder and acted against their will. If we killed even them—if we were that brutal—would you even be alive now?”
Old Nan Feng gave an awkward smile. “That… is a fair point.”
“Exactly,” Zhong Gaoliang continued. “So, the prison needs to be expanded—transformed into one large enough to hold over ten thousand souls.”
Old Nan Feng guessed his meaning. “Are you suggesting, Head Guard Zhong, that I help maintain order within the prison?”
“Yes,” Zhong Gaoliang confirmed. “This is also the Deity’s wish. Look to the sky.”
Old Nan Feng looked up to see a low cloud drifting directly above him. The Saint Lady Gao Yiye, speaking for the Deity, walked towards him, a smile gracing her face. “Old Nan Feng, you’ve been undergoing labor reformation for some time. The Deity finds you reasonably perceptive. Besides, having experience in the army, you understand the meaning of ‘rules.’ So now, there is this honorable yet challenging task to entrust to you.”
Old Nan Feng made a deep bow. “The Deity need only command.”
Gao Yiye continued, “In the future, Head Guard Zhong will manage the prison’s ‘external’ matters. You will be responsible for the prison’s ‘internal’ order. Have your men maintain order within the cells, observe those seven thousand-plus newcomers—identify any harboring ill intentions. If anyone attempts escape or causes trouble, report it to Head Guard Zhong in advance. Every instance counts as a merit, benefiting your future sentence reduction.”
Old Nan Feng understood. He chuckled dryly. “Rest assured. Leave this matter to me and my brothers. We all want to reduce our sentences, get out, and eventually serve under Captain Ghost.”