Xi Qingyue and Xi Weilan crouched behind a tent, poking out their two little heads to look ahead. On the empty ground in front of the tent, chaos had already erupted into a fierce brawl.
One after another, the refugees raised their weapons and slashed wildly at the government soldiers, as if they wanted to hack them to pieces. They had long wished to do this—after entering the city, they had handed over all their possessions and had to work every single day, only to go hungry. They weren’t even allowed to leave. Even that might have been bearable if they could just stay here safely, but their families were either humiliated or vanished without a trace. This place was clearly a man-eating den.
On ordinary days, the soldiers were many, and the refugees had no decent weapons to hand, nor were they united—fighting back with bare fists would only lead to certain death.
But just now, a large number of soldiers had left, and now every refugee had a weapon. On top of that, when they heard the news of the Prefect’s death, all of them grew bold.
In an instant, the soldiers were trapped and beaten by the mob. Some soldiers patrolling nearby heard the commotion and rushed over, but when they saw the scene, they were stunned with terror. Instead of jumping into the fight, they turned and fled.
The refugees naturally wouldn’t let them escape. Some even chased after them, shouting, “Kill them all! Don’t let a single one get away! Avenge our families! Charge!”
Even the women and older children grabbed weapons and joined the massacre. They lacked strength, but they ganged up on the soldiers, hacking away with all their might. The scene was extremely bloody.
Xi Qingyue pulled Xi Weilan back and tucked in their heads. This spectacle was far more gory than when the two of them had killed before.
“Sister, shouldn’t we go help?” Xi Weilan pointed toward the direction of the fierce fighting in front of the tent.
Xi Qingyue shook her head. “No need. This is their own grudge—they should settle it themselves. The soldiers can’t beat them. By the time the soldiers who left come back, things here will be over, and they still won’t be a match. Besides, we just did something big, so we should keep a low profile.”
Leaving weapons in front of these people and taking out a few night-guard soldiers had already been a huge help. For these refugees to survive and escape Bozhou City, they would have to fight their way out sooner or later. She had just happened upon the scene and sped up what was bound to happen anyway.
Before long, the soldiers were all slaughtered by the refugees. One by one, the refugees began searching for their families.
Some rejoiced tearfully upon finding their loved ones alive. Others, unable to find theirs, started shouting wildly, even rummaging through piles of corpses.
A teenage boy searched desperately among the crowd. Not finding who he was looking for among the dead, he ran to each woman and asked, “Have you seen my mother...?”
Each answer brought disappointment. Just as he feared his mother was gone, an excited and joyful voice came from ahead.
“Feng’er, I’m here...”
A woman, grimy and disheveled, rushed up to him, her face full of emotion. “Thank goodness, Feng’er, you’re alive! Thank goodness!”
She immediately began inspecting the boy for injuries, and only when she was sure her son was unharmed did she relax.
This woman was the one who had fled earlier while being chased by soldiers. After she ran away, she had hidden somewhere.
Just now, a large group of soldiers had hurried past toward the Prefect’s residence, and she had seen them. Sensing trouble, she mustered her courage and turned back in this direction.
No sooner had she arrived than she heard her son’s familiar, frantic shouts. Thank goodness they were still alive.
Seeing the ground littered with soldiers’ corpses, the woman asked worriedly, “Feng’er, what happened here?”
Bai Feng gave her a brief account of the situation and handed her a large saber for protection.
Just then, a burly man interrupted their conversation.
“Enough. There are more of them than just these. The soldiers who left will be back soon. So, I ask you all—should we set an ambush here and kill them, or fight our way to the city gate and break out?”
The man had originally been a bodyguard for a wealthy household and had been left behind in Bozhou City along with his master. When that master had gone to argue over how the soldiers had treated his family, he had been cut down with a single slash to the throat.
Many of the refugees recognized the man, knowing him as Ding Su.
At his words, one of the refugees immediately said, “Brother Ding, what do you think we should do? I’ll follow your lead.”
Others chimed in, “That’s right, we’ll follow you.”
Ding Su swept his gaze over the bodies on the ground, thought for a moment, and then spoke. “If we run now, we’ll still run into those soldiers. There’ll be another bloody fight. So here’s my plan—we set fire to a few tents here to lure the soldiers back, then hide in ambush around them. When they arrive, we burn them alive. Meanwhile, send some people to scout the situation at the Prefect’s residence.”
Everyone nodded in agreement. A few volunteers stepped forward to go gather intelligence, while the rest ran off to prepare torches and fire arrows.
Outside the Prefect’s residence, a junior officer stared in disbelief at the mansion, now nearly reduced to ashes. Their Lord Prefect’s home—burned down like this?
He muttered to himself, “Where is the Prefect? Is he still inside? Who in the world did this?”
One of the soldiers nearby dared to ask quietly, “Sir, what do we do now?”
The junior officer did not answer. His superior, the commandant, was above him, and the decision was not his to make.
At that moment, the commandant’s face was dark as thunder. It was already too late to put out the fire. He was already pondering where he would go if the Prefect were dead.
Just as the soldiers stood there in dejection, someone pointed toward the direction of their camp and shouted, “Look over there—it’s on fire too!”
The commandant’s expression twisted with rage. That was where the refugees were stationed. Something had clearly gone wrong.
He immediately gave the order. “Let’s go back and see. Kill anyone who dares stir up trouble at a time like this. We can always bring in a new batch of refugees.”
No sooner had he finished speaking than the junior officer who had spoken earlier smiled and said, “Captain Wang, how about I stay behind? We need to know what’s happened inside the Prefect’s residence. Once the fire dies down, we’ll go in and find out what’s happened, then report back to the camp.”
Captain Wang nodded. “Alright. Take some men and stay.”
Then, the large force of soldiers marched in a mighty procession back toward the refugees’ tents. The blazing light of the fires lit up the burning canvas and the surroundings.
When Captain Wang and his several hundred men arrived in haste, all they saw were the burning tents and a pile of bodies in front of them.
Enraged, he burst into curses. “Damn it! Those refugees have fled. We’re too late.”
A trusted subordinate beside him quickly stepped forward to offer advice. "Captain Wang, they can't have gone far. They might be heading toward the city gates. If we pursue now, we can still catch them."
They had been deceived by the blazing fire and the piles of corpses before them. Seeing no trace of the refugees and hearing no sound, they assumed everyone had fled. Little did they expect that those refugees, having committed murder, had not left but were lying in wait instead.
Captain Wang did not issue orders immediately. A vague unease stirred within him—these soldiers should not have been so easily killed by unarmed refugees.
Perplexed, he walked toward the corpses to examine how they had died.
But before he could inspect them closely, the sharp whistle of an arrow split the air behind him. He quickly sidestepped to dodge.
The next moment, the arrow grazed his robe and struck the pile of corpses.
Relieved for a split second, his eyes suddenly widened in alarm. Staring at the flames licking the corpses, he flinched, spun around, and retreated.
