Ambush on the Patrol

Pointing at him, he stammered, "Y-You... how, how are you here?!" So he really hadn't been seeing things a few days ago! "I came back to handle some business and visit an old friend," He Lingchuan said with a smile. "Shall we find a quiet place to talk?" Liu Baobao had already composed himself. "Follow me!" A servant boy carried a lantern ahead, while the two followed behind, chatting as they walked. "How have Blackwater City and Red Cliff Road been over the past year or so?" "Ah, terrible! My family's business has taken a nosedive!" Liu Baobao hurried to complain, as though instantly slipping back into their old rhythm. "Is that so? Then I've got a good assignment for you." He Lingchuan clapped him on the shoulder. "By the way, I have to leave again shortly, but I'll be back in a few days." As they crossed the main street, Liu Baobao glanced northward out of habit. The wild sand season had ended without warning, and this man had suddenly appeared. Could there be some connection between the two? Ah, he shook his head. What was he daydreaming about? How could such a monumental shift in the weather have anything to do with a single man? *** This March was unusually hot. Though the Spring Equinox had only just arrived, the slightest movement brought on a full sweat. In years past, the old trees along the road wouldn't have even sprouted new buds by this time. Under the blazing sun, a patrol from Yuheng City arrived at Manjia Village and hurried to halt at the courier station. Without needing to be led, the horses gathered around the water trough on their own, drinking greedily, while the twenty patrolmen walked over to rest in the shade of the trees. The station had set up several tables beneath the large trees, offering refreshing bitter herbal tea in addition to cool water. For those willing to part with a few extra coins, diluted honey water was also available. Aphid honey and bee honey were Panlong City specialties to begin with, and among the most common goods on this trade route. The moment they sat down, sweat poured down their foreheads like streams. Several patrolmen simply went to the well to draw water and dumped a bucket over themselves from head to toe, which finally revived them. "It's bloody hot," someone grumbled. "If it's already this bad in March, won't we get baked into jerky once midsummer hits in July?" A few others laughed. "Miao Mingming, isn't your uncle over at the City Guard Office? I heard he runs errands for the grand commander every day. Why don't you beg him for a transfer so you don't have to brave the wind and sun every day with poor grunts like us?" Miao Mingming shot him a look. "If you want to climb, you have to earn military merits. How are you going to earn merits just sitting in an office in Yuheng City?" "You've got ambition, kid," his companion laughed. "Too bad the bandits along the trade route haven't been showing themselves much lately. If there's no one to fight, there are no merits to claim." Only killing or capturing enemies brought military merits. Patrolling on schedule like this brought nothing but hard labor and exhaustion. The men chatted for a while longer and shared a few laughs, thoroughly relaxed. Then Miao Mingming suddenly asked, "Where's Xing Wu? He's been in the latrine for fifteen minutes. Why isn't he back yet?" "Who knows? Maybe his legs gave out. I told him there was something wrong with the mushroom soup this morning, but he wouldn't listen." The men laughed again, and someone said, "I'll go call him." Before the laughter faded, however, the whistle of arrows slicing through the air suddenly erupted from the brush. *Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!* Over twenty arrows shot out. Less than half missed, while the rest struck home among the patrolmen! Several patrolmen fell backward. The man who had just stood up was the most unfortunate—an arrow pierced straight through his eye, driving clean through his skull. "Enemy attack!" Shocked and furious, the patrolmen drew their weapons to face the threat. The brush rustled violently as a swarm of bandits charged out—their numbers exceeded a hundred! Miao Mingming roared, "Get inside the station!" Outnumbered, they had to find cover immediately. Yet one of the patrons sitting at the table behind him suddenly lunged at his back. One arm locked around his throat, while the other drove a blade repeatedly into his waist and ribs! In an instant, the four or five men at that table drew weapons and joined in the slaughter. The bloody carnage at the station lasted barely ten minutes. Aside from two patrolmen who seized a chance to escape on horseback, the rest lay dead on the ground. Across the sandy soil, blood flowed like rivers. Sheathing their weapons, the bandits sneered, "And here we thought the Yuheng Army was something special. Turns out they're just this!" Another asked, "What about the people at the station?" There were station postmen and traveling merchants; the clever ones had already slipped off toward the hills behind, while a dozen or so cowered inside and outside the station, trembling in terror. The man who had ambushed Miao Mingming glanced at them. "Leave them be." *** A day later, back at Manjia Village. He Lingchuan and his adjutant Chao Qian stood outside the courier station, looking up at the tall pole beside the horse trough. Eighteen severed heads were tied to the pole, swaying in the wind. The heads of the Yuheng City patrolmen. After just one day, the heads were already dehydrated under the baking sun, their expressions grotesque, yet not enough to prevent grieving family members from identifying them. Chao Qian stared fixedly. He Lingchuan asked him, "Is one really your relative?" "My cousin's boy," Chao Qian said, deeply grieved. "Though he was a distant relation, the boy was ambitious. He came to Yuheng City on his own to enlist and never asked me for favors, volunteering to patrol the front line." He sighed. "Ah, I don't know how I'm going to face my cousin." "He fought bravely. Grant him a generous pension," He Lingchuan said, resting a hand on his shoulder. "Rest assured, this blood debt will be repaid." Chao Qian nodded mechanically. He Lingchuan knew the man took it as mere words of comfort. No matter. He was a man of his word, and everyone would soon see it. He then walked into the low-walled courtyard behind the station, where the patrolmen's bodies were laid out. Having sat for over twenty hours in such heat, the stench of the corpses was appalling. No one at the station dared approach, yet He Lingchuan appeared unfazed as he began examining the wounds on the bodies. Most were injuries from blades, spears, and arrows—quite standard. Yet two corpses bore peculiar wounds: a row of three bloody holes. Willow leaned in for a closer look. "Hmm, could this be from a claw weapon?" Many martial artists used exotic weapons, and some favored hooked claws to inflict harm. Yet she immediately refuted her own assessment. "No, hooked claws would cause tears and lacerations, not penetrate so deeply." Claws fashioned after bears, wolves, or tigers would rip flesh outward, unlike these straight, deep punctures. He Lingchuan silently held out his hand, shaping his fingers into claws, and probed them into the wound. Though the size differed somewhat, the shape was a near match. "Gouged directly with fingers... no, with claws? A demon?" Willow asked in surprise. "Yet the witnesses at the station said the attackers were all human." He Lingchuan turned over the other corpse. It had identical wounds, along with a small puncture on the neck. The blood had long since congealed. He stared at the wound for a long while before saying to Willow, "Bring the heads inside. Let them be reunited with their bodies in whole." "Yes, sir." After spending considerable effort matching them up, they finally placed the eighteen heads back onto their respective bodies. He Lingchuan went over to the corpse he had examined earlier and took a couple of looks. "No, this one was mismatched." The others had no choice but to endure the foul stench and rearrange them again. Matching the neck cuts for all eighteen heads was no easy task. In the end, it was He Lingchuan who found the match first. Just as he set the head back onto its body, Chao Qian walked in. "The witness statements outside have all been recorded... Mingming?" He stared at the body before He Lingchuan. "That's my cousin's boy, Miao Mingming. Commander, is something wrong?"