After enduring a chaotic round of persuasion, lecturing, and ideological reeducation from the Gao Family Village labor reform prisoners, the messenger finally reached another crossroads and boarded a new bus.
This time, there were no labor reform prisoners on board.
Instead, the seats were filled with ordinary civilians.
Only then did the messenger realize that he had already reached the edge of Huanglong Mountain. The people now appearing on the bus were those who lived beyond the mountain's boundary.
They looked completely different from the residents of Yansui.
Their clothes were clean and tidy, their faces lively and spirited, their expressions relaxed in a way he had almost forgotten people could be. Compared to the gaunt, hollow eyed refugees of Yansui, these people felt as if they belonged to an entirely different world.
Even their conversations were different.
In Yansui, people talked endlessly about what to eat today, what to eat tomorrow, where to find food, how to stretch a handful of grain, and which stall sold the cheapest provisions.
Here, people chatted about whether they had seen the opera troupe's latest performance, whether a painting would look good on the wall at home, or whether it was time to replace a daughter's torn cotton coat.
The messenger sat stiffly in his seat, listening in disbelief.
When the bus finally rolled to a stop at Han City Station, he almost felt dazed. Knowing that Dragon Gate Ferry was close by, he disembarked, mounted his horse, and spurred it into a gallop toward the river crossing.
As he arrived at Dragon Gate Ferry, his horse slowed on its own.
Before him stood an immense bridge, grand and imposing, spanning the Yellow River in a single majestic sweep. The river thundered beneath it, while the bridge rose like a divine artifact planted into the earth itself.
The messenger stood frozen, staring.
Then he noticed an army crossing the bridge.
They marched beneath a massive banner that read: Hejin Garrison Commander Shi.
Shi Jian.
Joy surged through the messenger's chest. He urged his horse forward and shouted, "Commander Shi, I bear…"
"I know," Shi Jian interrupted without turning his head. "You came to request reinforcements for Yanchang County, didn't you? As you can see, my troops are already on the move. Fall in with us."
The messenger blinked. "But Commander Shi, where did you get…"
Shi Jian did not answer.
He simply raised his hand and barked an order. "Increase the marching speed. We must reach Yanchang County as fast as possible and keep the common people from suffering further."
"Run!"
The Gao Family Village militia broke into a jog.
"One two, one two."
The chant echoed in perfect rhythm.
The messenger stared in shock. Even while running, the army maintained flawless formation. Left legs moved together, then right, every step landing in precise time with the cadence.
He thought to himself, What kind of army is this? Why are they running like this?
But he quickly dismissed the thought. This was no longer his concern.
"Since Commander Shi has already departed," he muttered, "I should return and report to His Excellency the Governor."
He wheeled his horse around, galloped back to Han City, and rested there overnight. At dawn the next day, he resumed his journey, taking one bus after another, transferring repeatedly until at last, Route 86 carried him back to the place where he had first set out.
Standing there, he looked back at the road he had traveled.
It felt unreal, like waking from a dream.
Yanchang County was mountainous land.
The moment Shi Jian's unit entered its territory, an invisible pressure descended upon them. Ravines crisscrossed the land in chaotic patterns, cutting the terrain into countless twisting paths. Every advance required crossing one gully, climbing a slope, descending again, then climbing yet another rise.
Shi Jian had once been a scout himself, among the earliest of the Gao Family Village militia. He understood better than anyone how critical scouting was, especially in terrain like this.
Without hesitation, he dispatched more than a dozen scouts, ordering them to penetrate each ravine ahead.
Zheng Gouzi walked beside him. The two had been comrades since their scouting days, back when they had ventured into Huanglong Mountain together to eliminate Wang Zuogua.
Zheng Gouzi glanced at the surrounding mountains and chuckled. "Brother Shi, remember when we were hunting Wang Zuogua? Flat Rabbit was hiding in the bushes, swinging his so called My Heaven Rabbit Rending Overlord Sword, chopping off… well, that thing of theirs?"
Shi Jian burst out laughing. "Hahaha, how could I forget? Back then we were just ordinary soldiers. Now look at us, both commanders already."
Zheng Gouzi smiled, then sighed softly. "That old batch of brothers from back then. Every one of them is at least a centurion now."
Shi Jian's expression gradually turned serious. "Joking aside, this terrain is truly awful. I'm worried about ambushes. Bandits could jump out from anywhere at any moment."
"The scouts are already out," Zheng Gouzi said. "It should be fine."
Shi Jian shook his head. "We only have a dozen experienced scouts. Barely enough to assign one to each ravine. Some places will inevitably be missed…"
He had not even finished speaking when, diagonally ahead at a distance of roughly a hundred meters, a group of people suddenly emerged from a narrow, almost invisible gully.
Their clothes were ragged and filthy. In their hands were swords, spears, halberds, and clubs, a messy assortment with no uniformity at all.
They were clearly not a regular force.
The gully they emerged from was so tight and concealed that the scouts had clearly overlooked it.
The two groups faced each other across the short distance.
The people on the opposite side shouted in alarm, "Government troops! Damn it, government troops!"
Without hesitation, they turned and dove back into the narrow gully, showing no intention of fighting.
Shi Jian hesitated for a brief instant, his fingers twitching as he considered ordering the firearm soldiers to open fire.
But he stopped himself.
Tattered clothes and crude weapons did not necessarily mean bandits. They could have been local militia. Killing people without confirming their identity was not something he could accept.
That moment of hesitation was enough.
By the time his men covered the hundred meters and reached the gully entrance, they found that it curved sharply after just a few dozen steps. The figures inside had already vanished.
"I'll take a few men and chase them," Zheng Gouzi said immediately.
Shi Jian shook his head. "No. Too dangerous. If they're bandits lying in ambush inside the gully, taking a small group in would be suicide. We wouldn't even have time to rescue you."
Zheng Gouzi grimaced. "You're right."
The two men looked around at the countless ravines stretching in every direction and fell silent.
Relying solely on scouts was clearly not enough.
"We need to send men up the slopes to observe from above," Shi Jian said.
Zheng Gouzi shook his head again. "After a few steps, they'll be blocked. They'd have to climb down into the gully, then climb the opposite slope. Our scouts would need to be monkeys."
Both men felt a splitting headache.
Just as they were struggling with the problem, the sound of galloping hooves thundered toward them.
Two scouts rode back at full speed. One sat upright in the saddle, while the other was slumped across his horse's back, clearly wounded.
Shi Jian's heart clenched.
These were scouts he had trained with his own hands.
"What happened?" he demanded.
The upright scout shouted, "There were bandits hiding in a small gully ahead. As soon as we passed, they fired stealth arrows. Old Li was hit!"
"Damn it," Shi Jian cursed. "Medic! Medic!"
The ranks stirred in brief chaos. A medic rushed forward, examined the wound, and applied medicine.
"It's not serious," the medic reported. "He'll recover in a few days."
Only then did Shi Jian finally exhale.
He looked out at the endless ravines ahead, his frustration deepening.
"This won't work," he muttered. "How are we supposed to fight in a place like this?"
Among the soldiers, unease began to spread.