Chapter Twenty-Eight: The Government Army’s Encirclement Campaign

"We cannot go back," Liu Heng explained. "If Shi Yunhu hadn't been surrounded, we might have had a chance to retreat the way we came. But now that he has been defeated, we have become merit and political capital in the eyes of those officials; they will certainly send troops to hunt us down."

"How could it come to this! How could it be!" Zhao Yutu muttered to himself.

It was his idea, and now that the center, left, and right battalions were all surrounded, he felt a crushing blow. His dream of using the amnesty to step into officialdom had vanished into thin air.

"Master Zhao, are we truly heading south? The Chief and Leader Ma, they are all trapped by the government troops," the messenger rider asked in a low voice.

Zhao Yutu sighed, looking as if he had aged ten years overnight. "Head south. We cannot simply accompany them to their deaths."

No one wants to die if they can live, and the rider understood this; he had only asked for peace of mind.

"Pass the order: discard all useless items and increase our speed southward," Liu Heng commanded a squad leader of the new refugee recruits.

The squad leader took a few men and ran off to relay the orders. Before long, shouts to abandon heavy belongings echoed throughout the column.

Liu Heng looked at Zhao Yutu and said, "Have the riders you brought scout the path ahead. This concerns our very survival. If you try any tricks now, don't blame me for killing you first."

"Rest assured, I understand the principle of standing together in a storm better than you do right now," Zhao Yutu replied, having recovered somewhat from the news of the encirclement.

Under Zhao Yutu's orders, several riders detached from the main group to scout south toward Guangling.

Just then, Yang Yuan returned from what used to be the vanguard but was now the rearguard.

"You've come at the right time," Liu Heng said. "Shi Yunhu and the others fell into an ambush and are surrounded. I fear the government troops will peel off a detachment to hunt us down. You and I will take men to the rearguard to buy the others more time."

Hearing this, Yang Yuan shuddered, his face turning pale, yet he replied, "Let me take the men myself! You should stay with the main body."

"No more arguing; I must go," Liu Heng said. "Spread the word: except for one platoon of refugee recruits and half the archers left to guard the main column, the rest of the recruits and archers will follow me to hold off the government forces."

"I will assemble them immediately," Yang Yuan said, hurrying off without a moment's delay.

Chen Xunping asked eagerly, "What about me? I'll go with you! Every extra man adds strength." Everyone knew how dangerous it was to block government troops for the sake of the main force; one might never return.

"Fine. But you aren't going alone; take a few men and keep Zhao Yutu with us. I don't trust leaving him behind," Liu Heng said. He then looked at Li Shuheng: "Brother Shuheng, prepare a large cloth, slaughter an animal, dye the cloth in its blood, tie it to a long pole, and raise it as our banner."

After Li Shuheng left, Zhao Yutu said with a bitter smile, "Rest easy. Even if I had any schemes, I wouldn't use them now. Besides, Shi Yunhu is almost certainly dead; I have no intention of being buried with him."

"I feel safer with you by my side," Liu Heng said. "Second Brother, take him and follow me."

"But I am even more afraid of death!" Zhao Yutu's face turned ashen.

"Less talk, move," Chen Xunping said, giving Zhao Yutu a shove from behind.

The force was quickly assembled. Yang Yuan carried the pole with the blood-stained cloth behind Liu Heng, followed by the refugee recruits armed with wooden spears and the archers.

When Liu Heng and his men reached the end of the column, they saw a group of government soldiers slowly approaching in the distance.

"Form ranks!" Liu Heng shouted immediately, standing at the very front with his waist saber drawn.

Behind him stood Yang Yuan, holding the pole. The blood-stained rag was already turning dark, snapping in the wind like a true flag. Two rows of archers stood in front of the spearmen; the first row knelt, the second stood upright. Both rows held bows and arrows ready.

The three-hundred-man formation stood in silence, save for the snapping of the flag.

Liu Heng stared intensely at the approaching garrison troops. They were not as disciplined as he had imagined; instead, they moved like bandits, chaotic and disorganized, rushing forward in a disorganized swarm. Most of these garrison soldiers carried only spears; a few wore tattered cotton armor, but many wore nothing but rags, indistinguishable from common outlaws.

Liu Heng's archers were mostly former border troops, possessing a psychological steadiness far superior to the spearmen behind them. Seeing the poorly equipped government soldiers, they felt even more confident.

Chen Xunping curled his lip and said, "So these are the 'garrison troops'? They look no different from us bandits."

Zhao Yutu, shivering, stuttered, "Or-ordinary garrison troops are just farmers who know how to farm. They can't compare to border troops. The only dangerous ones in a garrison are the personal retainers and bodyguards."

"What are you shaking for? A pack of farmers has you scared like this? Useless," Chen Xunping sneered.

Zhao Yutu stammered, "No-no matter how much they farm, they are still government troops. Behind them, there must be thousand-man commanders and their elite retainers."

"What is there to fear?" Chen Xunping retorted. "The worst that happens is a scar the size of a bowl, and in eighteen years, I'll be a hero again."

"I-I am a scholar; I am different from you," Zhao Yutu’s teeth chattered.

"Of all things, a scholar is the most useless. Truly pathetic," Chen Xunping said, turning his gaze back to the approaching soldiers.

Zhao Yutu tried to argue, but terror gripped him, and his body would not stop trembling.

"Archers, ready!" Liu Heng raised his right hand, counting the distance to the closing soldiers.

As the government troops entered the eighty-pace mark, Liu Heng suddenly dropped his hand and shouted, "First row, fire!"

The thirty archers in the first row released their arrows simultaneously. A whistling sound tore through the air, and a rain of arrows descended. The government soldiers were struck down one after another; twenty fell in the first volley.

"First row, reload! Second row, fire!"

Following the command, another volley fell, and a dozen more soldiers collapsed.

There was only one main road, and the government soldiers were packed tightly together. The archers could not miss. Furthermore, most of these soldiers wore no armor, offering no resistance to the arrows. Once struck, the shafts pierced flesh, and if they were unlucky, they died on the spot.

After two volleys, nearly forty soldiers had fallen. The front of the charging crowd was cleared, only to be filled immediately by those behind.

Before the soldiers could get any closer, Liu Heng ordered the archers to fire again and again. The alternating volleys prevented the government troops from advancing within sixty paces. The zone between seventy and eighty paces became a killing field.

As soldiers fell row by row, those in the rear finally grew fearful. Some of those pushed to the front began jumping into the ditches on either side of the road.

Each of the sixty archers had fired over a dozen arrows. Some began to lose their accuracy as they reached their limit, and the government soldiers managed to push forward another twenty paces, closing the distance to less than fifty paces.