This was good news for Yuan Yunzhong.
That food could at least set up porridge stations for the refugees for a few days.
He asked Commander Chen, "Why didn’t Lord Shi come with you?"
Commander Chen chuckled, "Lord Shi has gone to register the refugees. He said that if the Imperial Court decides to recruit and pacify them, this would double the effect and save some effort."
Yuan Yunzhong nodded.
He hadn’t expected Lord Shi to be such a competent official.
Just as he was about to send someone to inquire about Lord Shi’s specific background, suddenly, there was a commotion, shouting, and cursing coming from the direction of Shijingshan.
Yuan Yunzhong frowned as a colonel ran towards him from afar.
"Lord Yuan!" the colonel hurriedly saluted Yuan Yunzhong and urgently said, "There’s a disturbance among the refugees at Shijingshan. They said those refugees had been out of provisions for several days and were hoping to capture Bixia Temple to obtain the stored grains. However, the Inspector of Wanping, along with the monks from Bixia Temple, burned the stored grains, and now the refugees have lost their last hope and want to descend the mountain to surrender. But Old Zhao killed many to ’bless the blade’, intimidating many refugees. Yet, there are also some discontented refugees, and a conflict arose, resulting in a fight. Commander Wang believes this opportunity shouldn’t be missed, and has already gone there to persuade them to surrender."
Yuan Yunzhong nodded and asked, "Do you know the situation at Bixia Temple?"
The colonel replied, "A scout has been sent to find out."
Yuan Yunzhong changed into soft armor, guarded by his private guard, and accompanied by Commander Chen, headed to the foot of Shijingshan.
The commanders from Shang Twelfth Armies didn’t have such good temperaments.
The so-called persuasions were nothing more than beating people up first—as long as they didn’t die, it was just a show of force.
By the time Yuan Yunzhong arrived, many young and strong refugees were already lying on the ground.
Amid their painful moaning, the other refugees warily watched Commander Chen and his men, not daring to step beyond a set boundary. Commander Chen continued fiercely, "The emperor is wise, he won’t kill you. As long as you surrender, all past transgressions will be forgiven. Otherwise," he pulled out half of his saber, the blade shimmering coldly in the sunlight, instilling fear, "no mercy under the knife. Even if you go to Yellow Spring Road, don’t even think about reincarnation."
Although roughly spoken, it subdued the crowd of dense refugees.
Yuan Yunzhong felt that since Commander Chen had already established authority, he should not interfere.
He quietly watched as Commander Chen and the refugees argued back and forth.
Lord Shi supported a disheveled man in his twenties who staggered over.
"Lord! Lord!" he whispered urgently.
Yuan Yunzhong stepped forward to meet him.
The man in his twenties hurriedly paid his respects to him.
Only then did Yuan Yunzhong notice that the man’s hair and body bore multiple burn marks.
He was struck by a thought.
The young man already said, "I am Inspector Sun Yan of the Wanping Inspection Division. You must quickly send someone to pursue to the west. Old Zhao has secretly left Shijingshan with a few close associates amid the chaos. There are still fifteen thousand refugees at the western foot of Shijingshan. I’ve already sent a subordinate to follow them, but Old Zhao is highly skilled in martial arts and very alert, not sure if he will be spotted."
Yuan Yunzhong’s expression shifted slightly and he instructed Sun Yan, "You go rest first, I’ll take care of the rest."
Sun Yan acknowledged and withdrew with the support of Lord Shi.
Yuan Yunzhong personally led people to chase after them.
*
Deep in the dense mountain forest, where the water flowed rapidly and the terrain was treacherous, large trees thick as an embrace shielded the sky. A group of people, holding bamboo sticks, frequently swept over the knee-high wild grass and miscellaneous trees, struggling to move forward.
"Master Wu!" someone panted, "Are we really heading for the western foothills of Shijingshan? Could something have happened to the Prince? We agreed to incite these refugees to cause trouble so the Prince could take advantage of the chaos to leave the city. We were supposed to meet at Bixia Temple and then take a different route to Baoding Prefecture. But it’s been seven or eight days now, and we haven’t seen a trace of the Prince and his men. If we go to the western foothills of Shijingshan, won’t we miss the Prince even more?"
Walking in the middle of the troop, Old Zhao snorted coldly and said, "Who said we were going to the western foothills of Shijingshan? We’re going to Bixia Temple! Everyone probably thinks that Bixia Temple is in ruins, deserted. Little do they know that the reason the Prince wanted to meet us at Bixia Temple is that he has hidden some gold and silver treasures there. Whether the Prince has gotten into trouble or not, now that the Imperial Court has sent a large army to exterminate the refugees, we might as well take this opportunity to ’die’ here, take the gold and silver treasures, and flee far away to start anew. Why should we hang our heads on our belts and serve him for life?"
"Master Wu!" The troop stopped, and people looked at Old Zhao in amazement.
A few of Old Zhao’s close aides immediately stepped forward to protect him, ready to fight at any sign of disagreement. Old Zhao also looked fiercely at them and said, "Those of you who don’t want to follow me, speak up now. I won’t make it difficult for you. Once we get to Bixia Temple, you will naturally be released."
The others looked at each other, knowing full well that Old Zhao, in order to cover up this matter, would not let them go.
A few of them steeled their hearts and said in unison, "We will follow Master Wu, and look to him as our leader!"
Old Zhao smiled satisfiedly, yet his eyes remained cold. He pointed to a tree not far ahead that seemed to reach straight into the clouds and said, "See that tree? Once we pass it, we will turn north, and soon, we will see Bixia Temple."
The people responded in a babble.
Suddenly, arrows rained down on them like raindrops.
Several people fell immediately, dead before they could utter a sound. Many others, screaming, began swinging their broadswords as they dodged into the trees or the underbrush.
Old Zhao took cover behind an ancient tree as thick as an embrace, and every attempt to leave was thwarted by the dense barrage of arrows.
His eyes fixed on the white-feathered arrow lying in the underbrush.
The arrowhead glowed eerily, adorned with goose feathers.
These were the official arrows used by the Guard Station.
Only the Shang Twelfth Armies would dare use such precious weapons so lavishly, firing so many arrows at once.
But how had they known about his whereabouts? And how had they caught up to him?
He even had a creeping sensation that he wasn’t merely being pursued; someone had anticipated his exact route and set a trap here, quietly waiting for him to walk right into it.
The treasures at Bixia Temple were now out of reach.
He gritted his teeth and called to his nephew, Zhao Tiezi, "Let’s break out!"
Zhao Tiezi grunted in agreement, and both he and Old Zhao, staying low, stealthily left the range of the arrow barrage.
Just as Old Zhao breathed a sigh of relief, he felt a searing pain on his shoulder.
Unable to help himself, he clutched his shoulder and turned around only to see a man clad in brown soft armor, backlit atop a white horse, slowly retracting the bow in his hands.
His scalp tingled.
The horse clopped forward a few steps.
The man revealed an extraordinarily handsome face and eyes dark as ink but impassive as an ancient well, devoid of any emotion.
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