Chapter 125: He Doesn't Want to Be That Kind of Person

Many in this team had not drawn a good omen, but He Lingchuan knew they would surely die tonight. Should they, too, retreat in the face of difficulty?

He Lingchuan let out a long breath. When Zeng Feixiong passed by again, he called out to him, "You just keep an eye on the front; I'll cover the rear."

Zeng Feixiong, drenched in sweat, paused in surprise at these words. "Young Master?" he thought, *Can you handle this?* Although they had faced life and death together in the desert, wasn't covering the rear a task best left to professionals? Of course, in his haste, he couldn't think of anyone else who could take on such a crucial responsibility.

"Don't worry," He Lingchuan said. He knew he could still play the grand master and let others toil for him within the group. But then he remembered the fleeing commoners in his Panlong dream, and the look of guilt in Liu Sanjiu's eyes as he fled for his life. Who doesn't have family? Who doesn't understand the stakes? Who doesn't have to consider their future? Liu Sanjiu was not wrong, but He Lingchuan no longer wanted to be that kind of person. So, smiling at Zeng Feixiong, he said, "I have experience!"

His combat strength was indeed good, and it would be a shame not to utilize it. However, Zeng Feixiong didn't fully trust him, especially since the Young Master's claim of "experience" seemed to come from nowhere. *The old man has never been to a battlefield; where would he get experience? Did he accumulate it in his dreams?*

At that moment, He Chunhua's voice came from the front: "It's fine, let him do it!" He had been observing the situation.

Since the leader had spoken, Zeng Feixiong immediately assigned two people: Zhao Qinghe, who had been sent by He Chunhua, and Maotao. "Protect the Young Master well!" he whispered, simultaneously giving them a few meaningful glances, implying that they could act independently and didn't necessarily have to obey the Young Master. Both nodded vigorously.

Maotao was still somewhat worried. "Young Master, do you really want to stay? But those two extremely unlucky lots..." He had been present then.

"Those things are unreliable," He Lingchuan interrupted him, then turned to Zeng Feixiong and said, "Protect my family!"

"It's my duty!" Zeng Feixiong quickly hurried back to the front of the column and soon disappeared from sight.

Over four hundred members of the personal guard and more than two hundred villagers, nearly seven hundred people in total, were rushing down the mountain path. Suddenly, a heart-wrenching scream echoed from above. He Lingchuan craned his neck to look and saw that some unfortunate soul had missed a step and fallen. Everyone was anxious. With a bloody example right before them, they finally stopped pushing and shoving.

The scream also woke up the unconscious Madam Zhu inside the carriage. She opened her eyes and froze for a few breaths, then suddenly covered her face with her hands and burst into loud sobs. Madam Ying patted her back. "Cry, just cry, oh dear!" It seemed Madam Zhu's child had been thrown off at this very spot.

"Blessings do not come in pairs," Madam Ying said. "Although you've lost your child, as long as we escape from here, you'll soon be reunited with your closest kin. That's a great comfort." She comforted her for a long time before Madam Zhu's sobs gradually subsided, eventually turning into quiet sniffles.

Madam Zhu's eyes were swollen like walnuts, but her gaze was firm. "Your family has given me a second chance at life. Once we return to the capital, my Zhu family will surely repay your kindness handsomely!"

"Saving a life is an act of virtue; there's no need to talk about repayment, that's too common," Madam Ying said, pouring her a cup of water herself. These words were not mere politeness. In Madam Ying's view, Zhu Xiyan, the Grand Minister of the Imperial Stud, was still in office, performing well, and trusted by the Emperor. However, these grandparents and grandchild had not seen each other for seven years, and their familial bond might have grown distant. Most importantly, Zhu Xiyan did not have only this one granddaughter. So, would the Zhu family ultimately repay them with a gushing spring or a mere trickle of gratitude? She didn't hold much hope. Of course, all of this depended on their successful escape from the rebel pursuit.

Madam Ying sighed, lifted the curtain, and looked out. The carriages were pressed tightly against the inner side of the path, while the outer half of the road was crammed with people. Just a few feet beyond that was a dangerous cliff. She had heard every word of her eldest son's conversation with Zeng Feixiong, and she felt a surge of emotion. *This scoundrel of a son, it seems he has finally matured a little.*

The mountain path was rugged, and everyone had to carry torches for light. As a result, the two groups of bandits in the village soon noticed the dense concentration of torches on the western path, clearly indicating where the crowd had gathered.

He Lingchuan and his two adjutants drew their swords, leading over thirty men and a dozen horses to cover the rear. The faces of these thirty-odd auxiliary soldiers were grim. Some secretly regretted not having maintained good relations with their superiors, realizing that was why they were being pushed forward as cannon fodder at such a critical moment. Who, besides a fool like He Lingchuan who volunteered, would want to stay behind to cover the rear? It meant letting go of one's life. Fleeing with the main group offered a chance of survival, but staying behind to cover the rear meant a high probability of staying there permanently.

It wasn't that He Lingchuan didn't want to bring more people, but the mountain path was steep and narrow; too many people would hinder their movements. Of course, this single-path terrain was unfriendly to those fleeing, but even more so an obstruction for the pursuers. The sporadic bandits who came chasing from behind were all intercepted by the group; they either retreated in the face of difficulty or were cut down with a single stroke.

Initially, there was little difficulty, but as the large-scale skirmish in the village fully unfolded, more and more bandits started fleeing towards the western path. After all, in terms of numbers, Lu Yao's men were facing odds of one against five, a task with too high a difficulty coefficient. After over twenty of them were cut down, Lu's bandits quickly collapsed, and at least half of them instinctively fled west. There were many people on this path; they believed that if they could just overtake most of them, they would be safe. In contrast, the east was the direction from which Wu Shaoyi's forces were charging, and the village entrance was a chaotic battlefield where bystanders could easily be shot dead by stray arrows. Therefore, the pressure on He Lingchuan and his group covering the rear suddenly increased.

At this point, neither the soldiers nor the villagers had fully withdrawn onto the western path. Too many people, too many carriages, too narrow a path! If bandits mingled with the crowd, the consequences would be dire. He Lingchuan made a decisive call, pointing to six or seven large wagons that had not yet cleared the path. "These can't be taken; leave them. Unhitch the oxen and horses from all of them!"

Nanny Qian was nearby and gasped in surprise at his words. "Young Master, these are all the Madam's belongings!"

He Lingchuan heard this and let out a sigh of relief. "Good!"

Nanny Qian was speechless.

"Just take the most valuable jewelry, it'll surely only be a small box," He Lingchuan said quickly. "Leave the rest here; I have a use for it!" *People are about to die; what's the point of holding onto these possessions?*

Nanny Qian couldn't defy him, so she found the jewelry box, got up, and went to the front to report to the Madam. Madam Ying listened with a furrowed brow, then asked in return, "Is the Young Master injured?"

"Ah..." Nanny Qian recalled carefully. "No, he's very imposing."

Madam Ying leaned against the window and glanced back twice, her heart filled with an unidentifiable emotion. Over there, Madam Ying's baggage carts had already been unhitched from their oxen and horses, blocking the middle of the mountain path. Of course, He Lingchuan still left an opening for his own people to pass through. The soldiers were anxious to close the gap, constantly urging the villagers, "Hurry, hurry, don't dawdle!"

A panting villager ran up, wearing a thick leather hat. Without looking up at anyone, he lowered his head and squeezed into the opening in the line of carriages.