Chapter 52 A resounding victory! The Prime Minister is coming! What am I to do? ...

Huo Qubing, with only ten men and a single sword and donkey, prepared to wipe out Black Wind Stronghold.

The sun was blazing, making the rocks on Black Wind Ridge scorching hot. Huo Qubing wiped the sweat from his brow, his eyes fixed on the mountain stronghold. He had captured a lone bandit on the way and learned that the leader of Black Wind Stronghold had taken several thousand bandits out, leaving only about a thousand bandits and the second-in-command in the stronghold.

"Sir, are we really going to make our move now?" Zhou Dashi crouched behind the bushes, his rough fingers unconsciously stroking the handle of his wood-chopping knife. This brick kiln craftsman, who once wouldn't even dare to fight, now had his Adam's apple bobbing incessantly. "There are over a thousand bandits in the village..."

Although he did come out with Huo Qubing, he never intended to wipe out the bandit den all at once. Besides, there were only ten of them, plus Lord Huo, making it eleven in total.

Are you serious that eleven people would dare to take on a bandit's den by themselves?

Huo Qubing did not answer immediately. He squinted at Black Wind Stronghold on the hillside—the stronghold walls, built of wood and stone, were about ten feet high, with several watchtowers standing crookedly, and the figures of bandits could be vaguely seen dozing in the shade. Several faded flags hung on both sides of the stronghold gate, with the three large characters "Black Wind Stronghold" crookedly embroidered on them, the corners of the flags fluttering in the mountain wind.

“It is precisely because there are so many people that we must act now.” Huo Qubing took a sip from his water pouch. “People are most tired in the afternoon, and the defenses are most lax.” He pointed to the west side of the stockade wall. “Look at that crack. It was caused by the torrential rain a few days ago and hasn’t been repaired yet.”

The craftsmen followed the gaze and indeed saw a section of wall with a relatively new color, where the mortar had not yet completely dried. Old bricklayer Huang Si's eyes lit up: "Use a chisel to pry it open from the crack, and you can make a hole in less than fifteen minutes."

Huo Qubing nodded and took the prepared tools from the donkey—several iron chisels, two large hammers, and a bellows used in brick kilns. "Master Huang will take three people to break down the wall, Zhou Dashi and two others will guard the side, and the remaining four will come with me to create chaos."

Zhou Dashi took the hammer and suddenly realized his hands were no longer trembling. He thought of the innocent civilians who had been brutally murdered by bandits, and the corpses of the caravans killed by them. He also thought of the women who had been abducted, whose whereabouts remained unknown.

"Sir, I heard that Black Yama is leading his main force to plunder outside?" Zhou Dashi asked in a low voice.

Huo Qubing's gaze darkened slightly: "That bandit said that Black Yama led three thousand elite troops to the north, saying he was going to a 'meeting'." He sneered, "It's a good opportunity to take advantage of his absence and wipe out his lair."

The sun was beginning to set. The bandits on the stockade wall had all taken a nap in the shade, except for two sentries who were drinking in the watchtower. Ten figures, using the terrain as cover, quietly crept up to the newly repaired section of the stockade wall.

"Be gentle..." Huang Si carefully pried open the crack in the stone with a chisel, while the other two craftsmen took turns gently tapping it with a hammer. Zhou Dashi held up a makeshift door panel, using it to shield everyone from being discovered by the arrow tower.

With a soft "click," a crack appeared in the wall. Huang Si quickly signaled to stop and pulled a leather bag from his pocket—it contained fine ash used in brick kilns. He poured the ash into the crack and then gently shook it with an iron spade.

"Step back!"

Just as everyone had moved a few steps back, half of the wall suddenly collapsed with a "bang," raising a cloud of dust.

"Fire! The west wall has collapsed!"

Huo Qubing suddenly shouted. At the same time, four craftsmen frantically pumped up leather bags, blowing large amounts of ash powder into the village, creating the illusion of a thick fog.

Chaos erupted within the stronghold. Bandits surged in from all directions, their eyes blinded by the gray fog. Huo Qubing, on his donkey, charged into the breach, his ring-pommel sword flashing like a silver snake, instantly felling two bandits. Zhou Dashi followed closely behind, wielding his wood-chopping knife, and struck a bald bandit in the waist and abdomen, the sound of bones shattering sending shivers down one's spine.

"They're government soldiers!" a bandit exclaimed, but quickly realized something was wrong—these "government soldiers" were dressed in coarse cloth and used tools such as machetes and iron shovels.

Taking advantage of the chaos, Huo Qubing led his men straight to the central building. Before the bandits along the way could react, they were beaten to a pulp by the craftsmen's tools. A burly bandit with a fierce face raised his knife to strike, but Huo Qubing dodged to the side and stabbed him in the thigh with a backhand.

The layout is clear at a glance.

"The granary is on the left, the stable on the right!" Huo Qubing shouted sternly. "Zhou Dashi, take three men to set it on fire, the rest of you follow me!"

In front of the central building, five bandits blocked the road with knives. The tall, thin leader, lightly waving a folding fan, was none other than "Ghost-Faced Scholar," the second-in-command of Black Wind Stronghold. Seeing that the newcomers were merely a boy riding a donkey and a few craftsmen, he grinned maliciously: "Where did these kids come from, coming to their deaths? The chief is with three thousand men, just thirty miles away. You've walked right into our trap!"

We'll only know if we walk right into a trap by trying.

Huo Qubing didn't answer, but suddenly leaped off the donkey's back, his ring-pommel sword aimed straight for the masked scholar's throat. The masked scholar raised his sword to block, but the young man flicked his wrist, and the blade strangely bypassed his defense, slicing a bloody gash on his shoulder.

"Attack together!" the masked scholar roared, and five bandits pounced at the same time.

Seeing this, Zhou Dashi shouldered his wood-chopping knife and rushed forward. This man, who wouldn't even dare kill a chicken normally, now wielded the knife with incredible skill. He plunged the knife into the heart of one of the bandits, who immediately clutched his chest and screamed in agony.

Old Huang, in a desperate move, grabbed some dirt from the ground and threw it at the bandit's face. While the bandit was rubbing his eyes, several craftsmen rushed forward and tied him up tightly with ropes.

Seeing the situation was dire, the masked scholar turned to flee. Huo Qubing had anticipated his route, and the black donkey suddenly took a step, blocking his path. The masked scholar couldn't stop in time and was kicked in the lower back by the donkey, instantly collapsing like a limp rag doll.

"Tie them up." Huo Qubing sheathed his sword and kicked open the door to the main room. Inside, several rough wooden tables were laid out, and in the dim torchlight, the mountain of treasure gleamed alluringly. Huo Qubing kicked open the iron door to the inner room, and a foul stench of blood and money rushed out.

"Good heavens..." Zhou Dashi, who was following behind, gasped and almost dropped the torch in his hand.

More than thirty large wooden crates were neatly arranged, more than a dozen of which had already been pried open. The first crate was filled with silver ingots, which gleamed coldly in the firelight; the second crate contained strings of copper coins strung together with red cords, each string as thick as an adult man's arm; the third crate contained various jewelry and ornaments, with gold hairpins and jade bracelets piled up haphazardly, clearly all looted.

The most eye-catching item was a gilded wooden box in the center, still bearing the official seal. Huo Qubing used the tip of his knife to pry open the lid, revealing twenty ingots of gold neatly stacked inside, each ingot stamped with the mark "Official Silver of the Ministry of Revenue" on its bottom.

This is government silver!

"They even dare to rob government silver." Huo Qubing sneered, fiddling with the gold with the tip of his knife. "No wonder they can afford to support thousands of bandits."

In the corner, dozens of bolts of fine silk were piled up, some of which had been gnawed by rats. On the wall hung more than a dozen paintings and calligraphies, all signed by famous artists, but now they were carelessly nailed to the earthen wall, their edges curled and yellowed.

"My lord!" A craftsman rushed in, flustered. "A cellar has been discovered in the back hill..."

The entrance to the cellar was hidden beneath a haystack in the stable. At the end of the cold, damp passageway were three stone chambers sealed with iron bars. The first chamber was filled with grain, enough to feed over a thousand people for three months; the second chamber contained bundles of weapons, from broadswords to bows and arrows; and the third chamber held a dozen or so disheveled women who huddled together in fear at the sight of someone approaching.

"You beast!" Zhou Dashi slammed his fist into the stone wall, blood seeping from his knuckles.

Huo Qubing's face was ashen, and he cleaved the iron lock with a single stroke: "Save the people first."

In the corner, in an iron cage, were several ragged hostages who shrank back in fear when they saw someone enter.

“Don’t be afraid, we’re from Songyang County,” Zhou Dashi quickly stepped forward to reassure them. He recognized one of the old men as the peddler from the neighboring village who had been robbed; three months ago, everyone thought he was dead.

Unexpectedly, he was robbed by bandits.

As the sun set, Black Wind Stronghold was bathed in firelight. Huo Qubing stood before the stronghold gate, watching the rescued villagers help each other down the mountain. Of the eight hundred bandits, over a hundred were dead, and the rest were all bound hand and foot. Although the craftsmen were all wounded, they stood tall—they proved that hands accustomed to brick-making tools could also grip swords in battle.

People are never static; given the right opportunity, even a rabbit can become a tiger.

Zhou Dashi walked to Huo Qubing's side and suddenly bowed deeply: "My lord, I..."

Thank you, thank you for letting me go home alive.

"Just call me Qubing." The young man helped him up, a rare smile appearing on his lips. "Today's battle is enough for you to talk about for half a year when you get back home."

The gold, silver, treasures, and calligraphy and paintings by famous artists were all looted; these were all to be taken back by Magistrate Jiang. As for Black Wind Stronghold...

Huo Qubing set a fire.

As the sun set, the thick smoke from Black Wind Village had not yet dissipated. Huo Qubing stood in front of the village gate, watching the bandit prisoners—more than eight hundred men—being escorted by craftsmen from Songyang County, walking down the mountain in a long, dejected line along the winding mountain road.

Among these men were burly bandits with menacing faces, and emaciated henchmen; there were white-haired old thieves, and boys no more than fifteen or sixteen years old. Most of them were dressed in rags, their feet bound with straw ropes, and their wrists tied with thick hemp ropes. They were in groups of ten, linked together in a string. On both sides of the procession, craftsmen from Songyang County, holding hammers and shovels, watched them warily, lest anyone escape.

Huo Qubing rode on the back of a black donkey, surveying the entire group with a slight frown.

How many of these people are truly evil bandits? And how many were forced into becoming outlaws by circumstances?

"Sir, what should we do with these people?" Zhou Dashi walked over, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and asked in a low voice. He was still clutching the iron hammer that had broken the bandit's knee in his hand, his knuckles white from the force.

Huo Qubing pondered for a moment and said, "Take him back to Songyang County and hand him over to Magistrate Jiang for disposal."

Zhou Dashi nodded, but couldn't help asking, "But what if Black Yama returns with three thousand bandits to retaliate...?"

Huo Qubing's gaze turned cold: "I'm waiting for him to return." He looked towards the continuous mountains to the north, "Black Wind Stronghold has been destroyed. If he dares to come to Songyang County, he will be walking into a trap."

The afterglow of the setting sun painted the winding mountain path crimson. Huo Qubing rode on that black donkey, leisurely leading the procession. The donkey's hooves clattered on the gravel, casting a long shadow behind it.

The procession moved with remarkable discipline—several packhorses pulled carts laden with gold and silver treasures, the chests and crates piled high and heavy, their wheels creaking and groaning as they rolled over the ground. On either side were groups of ten bandit prisoners, bound together in strings of hemp rope, their wrists red from the thick ropes, yet none dared to struggle. These usually ferocious bandits now hung their heads, their steps heavy as they followed the procession, resembling a pack of wolves with their teeth pulled.

Ten craftsmen from Songyang County walked on either side of the procession, holding machetes and shovels, their backs ramrod straight. Their faces still bore the scars of battle, yet their eyes shone with undisguised pride. Zhou Dashi, in particular, the brick kiln worker who once wouldn't even dare to fight, now gripped his blood-stained machete, walking with a swagger.

"Old Zhou, you'd better keep your machete safe, it's something that's been through blood," a craftsman joked. "Don't scare your wife later."

Zhou Dashi grinned, revealing a set of big white teeth: "If I make it back alive this time, I'm going to stew a whole old hen and drink it to my heart's content!"

The crowd burst into laughter, the sound echoing through the valley. Huo Qubing, listening from the front, smiled slightly. The black donkey seemed to sense its master's good mood, its ears twitching gently.

Just then, a series of hurried footsteps suddenly came from around the bend in the mountain road ahead.

"Be on guard!" Huo Qubing raised his hand to signal, and the troops immediately stopped. The craftsmen quickly herded the prisoners to the roadside, grabbed their weapons, and stood ready for battle.

The footsteps drew closer, and a group of people turned around the cliff. The general at the head was dressed in gleaming armor, which shone brightly in the setting sun. He was exceptionally handsome and valiant. This man was none other than Qin Shubao.

"It's Lord Qin!" Zhou Dashi exclaimed in surprise.

Qin Shubao's gaze swept over the peculiar group—the young general riding a donkey, the carts laden with treasure, the strings of prisoners, and the proud and upright craftsmen. His thick eyebrows gradually rose, finally settling on Huo Qubing.

"Young General Huo," Qin Shubao clasped his hands in greeting, his voice booming like a bell, "it seems I've made a wasted trip?"

I was originally thinking of coming to support Huo Qubing, but it seems that's no longer necessary.

Huo Qubing smiled slightly, about to reply, when a round head popped out from behind Qin Shubao—it was Zhao Deyu, who had been hiding behind the horse. The wealthy merchant was pale-faced, trembling as he clutched Qin Shubao's cloak, looking like a frightened quail.

"General Qin," Zhao Deyu stammered, "we...we're afraid we won't be able to leave today..."

Qin Shubao shook his head helplessly. His gaze fell on the carts of treasure, then swept over the dejected prisoners, and finally settled on Huo Qubing: "Tell me, what happened?"

Huo Qubing waved his hand dismissively: "We wiped out a bandit stronghold."

The tone was as if he wasn't talking about the Black Wind Stronghold that had wiped out thousands of people, but rather about stepping on an anthill this morning.

Zhao Deyu's eyes widened, and he couldn't help but lean halfway out from behind Qin Shubao: "This, so much gold and silver treasure... all obtained from the bandit's den?"

"Hmm." Huo Qubing nodded, tapping the nearest box with his toe. "This contains official silver, and it's stamped with the Ministry of Revenue's seal." He then pointed to another cart. "Those jewels and ornaments were probably looted. There was also some grain and weapons left in the village; we couldn't take them with us."

Zhao Deyu swallowed hard, his eyes fixed on the treasure. Gold ingots gleamed alluringly in the setting sun, and pearls and agates peeked out from between the boxes. He had never seen so much wealth piled up together in his entire life.

"Goodness..." Zhao Deyu muttered unconsciously, "How much is this worth..."

Qin Shubao laughed heartily and patted Huo Qubing on the shoulder: "Good lad! Ten men took down Black Wind Stronghold? And seized so many spoils of war?" He turned to Zhao Deyu and said, "Master Zhao, do you still think you can't leave today?"

What he really wanted to ask was whether he remembered Huo Qubing's name, but he thought no one would forget Huo Qubing's name, let alone Zhao Deyu who had witnessed it firsthand.

Zhao Deyu then came to his senses and hurriedly waved his hand, "We can go! We can go!" He glanced at Huo Qubing and then at the proud craftsmen. Suddenly, he felt that this young general riding a donkey was more reassuring than Qin Shubao, who was fully armed behind him.

With such talent, how could he be stuck in a small county like Songyang?

No one is destined to answer Zhao Deyu's question.

The column resumed its journey. Qin Shubao ordered his men to take control of the prisoners, while he himself led a horse alongside Huo Qubing. The two generals walked side by side, one on a donkey, the other on foot; one young and handsome, the other majestic and imposing; one nonchalant, the other bold and forthright. The setting sun cast long shadows of them on the mountain path, creating a vivid picture.

The temporal distance brought about by history has long been blurred by human contact.

Zhao Deyu followed behind, occasionally stealing glances at the carts of treasure, thinking to himself: If this wealth were confiscated, Songyang County would be rolling in money...

Zhou Dashi and the craftsmen brought up the rear, occasionally poking the slower-moving prisoners with their machetes, eliciting cries of pain. Their laughter mingled with the prisoners' wails, drifting away on the evening breeze.

By the time this grand procession arrived in Songyang County, it was nearly dusk. Jiang Ge and his constables had been waiting at the city gate for some time.

"Huo Qubing!" Jiang Ge strode forward, his gaze sweeping over the group of dejected bandits, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes. "This... they've all been captured? The entire village was wiped out?"

Huo Qubing dismounted from his donkey, clasped his hands in a fist and said, "Black Yama has taken the main force outside, leaving only a thousand or so men in the stronghold. Eight hundred prisoners are here, the rest have been executed."

Jiang Ge took a deep breath and then smiled: "Good! Good! As expected of Huo Qubing!"

"We also acquired gold, silver, horses, and paintings from the bandit stronghold."

Django's eyes lit up. So much money! It felt like money was falling from the sky while he was sitting at home.

Hehe, I'm rich! I'm rich! I don't know how to spend it!

Upon hearing the news, the people of the city flocked to the streets to watch. Some pointed at the bandits and cursed them, while others threw rotten vegetable leaves at them. The people would not tolerate these bandits.

Huo Qubing frowned, about to speak, when Jiang Ge shouted loudly, "Silence!"

The crowd gradually quieted down.

Jiang Ge surveyed the crowd and declared loudly, "These bandits have committed heinous crimes and deserve severe punishment! But I am merciful and will give them a chance to reform! From today onward, they will serve in labor in Songyang County, repairing city walls, digging irrigation ditches, and firing brick kilns! Anyone who dares to commit evil again will be executed without mercy!"

It's basically just doing manual labor.

The people looked at each other in surprise, then burst into cheers.

Huo Qubing nodded slightly as he watched this scene.

The bandits lowered their heads, not daring to utter a sound. Some still had a fierce glint in their eyes, but most seemed to finally breathe a sigh of relief—at least, they were still alive.

The county jail was overcrowded.

Django temporarily requisitioned several abandoned warehouses outside the city and imprisoned the bandits in batches. Huo Qubing personally led patrols to ensure that no one escaped.

“My lord, many of these people were forced to come up the mountain.” Zhou Dashi followed behind Huo Qubing and said in a low voice, “I asked a few of them, and they said that Black Yama is ruthless and cruel. If anyone does not obey, their whole family will suffer.”

Huo Qubing paused, then said calmly, "Being forced into a corner does not mean one is innocent."

If Songyang County hadn't been short-handed, these bandits would have been dead long ago.

Zhou Dashi was taken aback, then nodded: "Yes."

Huo Qubing looked at the prisoners squatting in the corner and said coldly, "Magistrate Jiang said that starting tomorrow, they will be made to work. Anyone who slacks off will be whipped ten times; anyone who resists will be beheaded."

Zhou Dashi solemnly replied, "Understood!"

Meanwhile, Django was counting the jewels when the system notification sounded.

She had just been wondering who would come to visit all the people locked up in the county jail.

As a result, the system was delivered to our door.

Jiang Ge thought this time it would be the same as usual, hiring one yamen runner, but upon closer inspection he found there were two: one yamen runner and one county magistrate.

I was taken aback. County Magistrate Xu was still working there, so why were they hiring new people?

The system answered Jiang Ge's question methodically: "It has been detected that Magistrate Xu has already written his resignation letter."

Resignation?

Django thought about it for a moment, but couldn't figure it out, so he put it aside and decided to look at the personnel list first.

Let's take a look at the list of candidates for county magistrate before we talk about it.

Yan Song.

Dynasty: Ming Dynasty

Position: Grand Secretary.

Yan Song, who sheltered the Ming Dynasty from the storm? He was a model minister in the first half of his life, but a notorious traitor in the second half.

Compared to Yan Song, Jiang Ge prefers people who stick to one path to the end, so he's not considered, pass.

Keep reading.

"Li Si."

Dynasty: Qin

Position: Left Chancellor.

Qin?

The county government already has a black-clad man from the Qin Dynasty, and Jiang Ge prefers to hire people from different dynasties, avoiding those from overlapping periods.

Let's look at the list first.

The list is full of famous officials, regardless of loyalty or treachery; each one is a prominent figure. There's no choice; I'm suffering from decision paralysis.

Jiang Ge bit his finger and continued reading. "Or should I just choose one from among these people?"

My mind was racing, but my eyes were constantly scanning.

Unexpectedly, a surprise appeared at the end. As soon as he saw the name, Django was about to confirm the job offer.

Zhuge Liang

Dynasty: Shu Han

Position: Chancellor.

The Prime Minister is coming! What am I to do?!

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Author's Note: I originally planned to update with a 10,000-chapter update to thank everyone for reaching 2,000 nutrient solution donations, but I went to the traffic police station today to handle some matters, and I'm so tired [melted][melted][melted]. Please everyone, add this to your favorites and follow me [good luck lotus]. Please, I beg you! [covering face and peeking][covering face and peeking]