Chapter 99: Mistakenly Taking the Fierce Bandit for the God of Wealth

Surrounded by mountains, the emerald lake was like a mirror.

After two days of drizzle, the rain had stopped, and Xianling Village was just beginning to stir from the morning mist.

Madam Zhu was already awake before dawn, while her husband beside her still snored like thunder.

All around was quiet as she carried her wooden bucket to the lake to fetch water. Xianling Lake was calm today, its surface unruffled. Among the wild grasses along the shore, shy pink and white mountain peach blossoms dotted the landscape. A white mist swirled between the water and the sky, transforming the lake view into something akin to a fairyland.

Madam Zhu stood there in a daze for a moment. Only when a series of bubbles appeared on the nearby lake surface did she grasp her bucket and, with a stumbling gait, turn to walk back.

If other village women had been there, they would likely have laughed at her for her lack of strength, as her wooden bucket was only eight-tenths full.

As she passed Xianling Shrine, she occasionally glanced inside, and her footsteps halted.

Xianling Shrine was the most exquisite building in the entire village, with white walls and dark green tiles. The brickwork was perfectly laid, and the roof tiles, specially transported from outside the village, gleamed brightly after being washed by the rain.

The Xianling Shrine always housed only two spirit tablets. But now, she saw that one of them was broken.

It had snapped into two pieces, with the upper half lying on the altar.

Perhaps it was a child's prank. Madam Zhu didn't go closer to inspect it, simply turning and leaving with her water bucket.

Back home, she quickly lit the stove to boil water and kneaded dough for pancakes. Then, she went to the pens behind the house to feed the chickens and pigs.

Soon after, her two children woke up.

The children were still very young, one two years old and the other four. She had to take care of everything for them—dressing them, putting on their shoes, and washing their faces.

As soon as the children cried, her in-laws also woke up, rubbing their eyes as they emerged and urging her to prepare breakfast quickly.

She served salted fish, pickles, pancakes, and mixed grain porridge on the table. Then, she took a basin of warm water into the inner room and roused her husband. "It's light out," she said. "Father says you need to harvest the last of the wheat today."

Her husband grumbled twice, clearly displeased, and dawdled for more than fifteen minutes before finally getting out of bed.

Only after seeing her husband and father-in-law off did Madam Zhu finally breathe a sigh of relief, leaning against the doorframe as she sat down.

Her mother-in-law came over and tossed her two pieces of clothing. "Don't be lazy," she snapped. "Mend these properly."

As her children played nearby, and she was mending the second garment, a sudden commotion erupted in the village.

Madam Zhu paid no mind, but soon after, four or five people arrived at her door and, without a word, dragged her away.

Her mother-in-law, terrified, rushed after them. She saw several villagers throw her daughter-in-law down in front of Xianling Shrine. The village chief, his face ashen, pointed at the spirit tablet inside the shrine and demanded, "Did you do this?"

"Do what?" Madam Zhu asked, bewildered. "I didn't do anything."

"Did you break it? The tablet was fine last night."

"It has nothing to do with me," Madam Zhu protested. "Maybe it was one of the village children."

"Old Qi!"

At the chief's call, a thin, small man stepped forward. "This morning," he declared, "I only saw Madam Zhu walk past the shrine."

Madam Zhu replied coldly, "You were here too. Maybe you broke it."

Old Qi slapped her across the face.

The village chief said, "When your husband returns, we will demand justice."

With that, two villagers confined her inside the shrine.

Her mother-in-law, who had been outside cursing her for causing trouble, soon left as well.

That evening, the farmers returned from the fields, and surprisingly, a merchant caravan was traveling with them.

The caravan consisted of about thirty to forty people, driving ten large carts. The village children approached them, asking for sweets, but the merchants simply spread their hands, indicating they had none.

The village chief stepped forward to greet them. The caravan leader, with a single gesture, offered several ten-tael silver ingots. "We would like to seek lodging here tonight," he announced, "and we will depart early tomorrow morning."

The man was tall and heavily built, with a coarse, booming voice. Madam Zhu watched him through the gaps in the shrine's brickwork, feeling that his silk clothes didn't quite suit him.

The village chief had initially harbored some doubts, but the sight of the large silver ingots immediately put his mind at ease. If they were so wealthy, what could they possibly covet from the villagers?

So the caravan settled in, with its members dispersing to various homes for lodging.

With outsiders present, the village chief found it inconvenient to deal with the matter of the shrine's spirit tablet. As the saying goes, "Family shame should not be aired in public."

The caravan captain asked him, "I thought the place where your esteemed ancestor raised his army would be very prosperous."

"Those who leave never come back," the village chief sighed. "They're all ungrateful wretches!"

"This is a good, peaceful place, and surprisingly populous," the captain said with a smile. "Other villages usually have at most two hundred people, but Xianling Village has over three hundred, and it's quite spacious too. Along the way, I noticed all the wheat fields have been harvested. You must have worked very hard today. Have all your people returned?"

"Yes, we can plant rice in a couple of days," the village chief replied, only then realizing something was amiss. How did these outsiders know they had worked particularly hard today? "How did you..."

The caravan captain suddenly blew a whistle: one long, two short.

In the quiet little village, this whistle sounded particularly piercing.

The village chief sensed something was wrong and shouted, "Help!" But just as the word left his lips, the caravan captain knocked him unconscious.

Immediately afterward, screams and wails erupted throughout the village.

The able-bodied young men of the village grabbed their tools to resist, but suddenly, two hundred figures burst from the surrounding bushes, encircling them. When the newcomers threatened the elderly and the weak as hostages, the villagers put down their farming tools.

Within fifteen minutes, the commotion ceased.

Unarmed, the entire village—men, women, old, and young—were driven to the open ground in front of the village shrine. Two to three hundred people surrounded them, glaring menacingly, each holding a weapon, their eyes glinting fiercely.

The villagers of Xianling finally understood: they had mistakenly welcomed ruthless bandits into their village, thinking they were benefactors.

As the caravan captain was about to speak, a red-tailed peregrine falcon suddenly swooped down from the sky and landed on his shoulder. It spoke in human language: "Government soldiers are approaching from the southwest. Three to four hundred of them, about fifteen li away."

The bandits were startled, but the villagers were overjoyed.

Government soldiers? Were they saved?

One bandit exclaimed, "General, it's the pursuers!"

"If they were pursuers, why would they be coming from the southwest?" the captain frowned, asking the red-tailed peregrine falcon. "Are you certain they are government soldiers?"

"They are government soldiers," the red-tailed peregrine falcon confirmed, "but their uniforms are different from those we fought at Woling Pass. They wear blue armor on their shoulders. Oh, and by the way, there are women in that troop!"

The captain's expression relaxed, and he even chuckled. "Why would pursuers be bringing women with them?"

His subordinates remained concerned. "They're headed this way. What should we do?"

The captain sneered. "They have men, but so do we. What is there to fear? We can't let them ruin our plans. First, find someone to go to the town and report."

A confidant leaned in and whispered a few words to him. He nodded. "That's a good plan."

He then gave an order to the villagers:

"Those whose households do not have children under the age of eleven, step forward."

The villagers hesitated, none daring to step forward.

The captain chuckled. "Only those who don't step forward will be unlucky."

At that, a large group of villagers stepped out.

The captain ordered these people to walk to the water's edge. Then, with a swift swing of his blade, he decapitated the person closest to him.

"Slaughter them all!"

The villagers screamed, and some fought back desperately.

But with women, children, and the elderly among them, how could they possibly stand a chance against these wolf-like, tiger-fierce bandits?

It was a one-sided massacre.

By the time the last cry for help was silenced, the lake water had been stained red with blood.

Over a hundred bodies lay strewn haphazardly.