It really is a chaotic era, with bandits and roaming outlaws never ceasing to exist.
Prefect Zhou had a sudden realization.
"What bandits? Where is this report from?" he hurriedly asked.
General Peng had a somewhat strange expression.
"I don't know which bandits," he said, "it was a bandit who luckily survived falling off a cliff. He said that some very fierce bandits robbed and killed them."
Bandits saying they were robbed and killed by bandits.
Prefect Zhou was stunned for a moment.
It wasn't unheard of; 'dog eat dog' was quite common as well.
"What kind of bandits were they?" He looked nervously towards the city gate, the figures of Miss Jun and her group were no longer visible.
General Peng shook his head.
"That bandit was too severely injured, he died after only saying this much," he said, scratching his head, "But Miss Jun probably wouldn't be so unlucky to encounter them, right?"
Having said that, seeing Prefect Zhou glaring at him, he shrugged his shoulders.
"Perhaps there are no such bandits at all, maybe that dying fellow was confused and rambling," he quickly added.
Above the city gate, Prefect Zhou and General Peng saw off Miss Jun as she departed, while a few Jinyiwei outside the city gate also watched her leave.
"Haven't seen Lord Jin in a while," a Jinyiwei said, frowning slightly, "Could he have already returned?"
"Should we ask Miss Jun?" another one suggested.
The leader shook his head.
"Lord Jin only asked us for help once, and didn't instruct us to pry into Miss Jun's affairs," he said.
He said this and turned his horse around.
"Let's first follow Lord Lu's orders, tracking the Duke of Chengguo's heir is the priority."
.......................
On the empty highway at high noon, not a soul was in sight, and the scattered villages nearby were also devoid of people, looking especially desolate in the winter season.
From a ditch by the roadside, a man slowly emerged, carefully observing his surroundings, only to be slapped on the head.
"Look at your cowardly figure!"
A raspy voice scolded.
"What's there to be afraid of? We are thieves, not ghosts."
Being thieves, they still shunned the light, after all.
The man who was hit shrank back and muttered, but dared not speak out, stepping aside to watch the burly man standing behind him.
This burly man, in his thirties, had a scar on his face, making his entire appearance even more ferocious, with two axes tucked at his waist.
As he jumped onto the highway, twenty or thirty men also leaped out of the ditch, each looking fierce and menacing.
"Everyone says that inside Qingyuan Prefecture, prosperity prevails," the man with the scar looked ahead, his eyes twinkling with greed, "Indeed, it looks sparsely populated, but without a hint of decay."
He rubbed his hands.
"Brothers, we can have a good, fat winter," he declared.
Men behind him shouted and howled in response.
The man who led the way still looked timid.
"Brother Dao, inside Qingyuan Prefecture, it's said there's a gang that specifically kills bandits," he said in a low voice, "Other bandits were either killed or fled."
Brother Dao scoffed.
"What bandits that specifically kill bandits," he said, "It's just infighting."
Saying this, he swung his twin axes.
"I'm not afraid nor care whether they are bandits or civilians, anyone I meet must die."
The men behind him also raised their axes and shouted loudly.
"Let's go, find some fat sheep, feast on flesh," Brother Dao declared, stepping forward.
The group followed noisily.
They became happier as they walked along, even discovering a locked front door in a village, with chickens kept inside.
This suggested that the owner was only temporarily out to avoid trouble, and might return to check in the meantime.
"This Qingyuan Prefecture really is doing well," the man with the scar shouted, "In other places, who would still have this mood?"
With that, he split the wooden door with an axe.
The men swarmed in, rummaging through the courtyard, but unfortunately, they found neither money nor grain.
Having swept through this village with little to show for it, they ended up only hanging a dozen chickens on themselves.
"This is a good sign," the man with the scar said, "To gain even in an empty village means we will soon find some fat sheep."
All were exhilarated and joyful, except for the leading man who looked uneasy, always watching his surroundings carefully.
"That fierce bandit you mentioned is also just rumored, right?" one man said to him in a low voice, "Nobody has actually seen them. Don't dampen the boss's spirits; he isn't much for patience, be careful he doesn't chop and cook you."
Because bandits who had seen that gang were all dead.
The leading man's lips twitched, looking at Brother Dao ahead and recalling the scene of them eating human flesh, his face turned pale. Swallowing the words at the tip of his tongue, he forced a smile and raised his broken sword, shouting along with the others.
The noisy crowd had just left the village when they heard the sound of galloping hooves; a group of riders was coming up the road towards them.
Brother Dao and his men hurriedly stopped, and the approaching riders also pulled on their reins, seemingly taken aback.
This was a group of eleven, mostly skinny men in their thirties or forties with bulging sacks on their horses, including one young woman among them.
The eyes of Brother Dao and his men immediately lit up, their faces showing surprise and delight.
"Easy prey!" they exclaimed.
"Bandits!" At the same time, the other party also shouted.
Their eyes seemed to brighten too, their expressions filled with joy.
Joy? That doesn't seem right.
Brother Dao and his men were momentarily confused; it should be fear, right?
Yes, definitely fear.
"Brothers." Scar waved the knife in his hand.
Scar was different from other bandits; he never said those intimidating phrases like "this road is mine."
As bandits, directly killing and robbing was the way to go, not performing like actors, so why waste words?
"Take action."
As Scar opened his mouth, he realized someone else had spoken first.
Must be his own men, right?
No, it was a woman's voice.
A woman's voice? Did I hear wrong?
As this thought crossed his mind, he saw the people opposite spur their horses, which instantly reared up.
Thinking of running away?
Wishful thinking, do they think we don't have a way to catch them? We are seasoned horse thieves!
Scar sneered, his hand subconsciously reaching for the cord used to trip horses, but the next moment he realized these people were not fleeing, but charging towards them, and as if by magic, pulling long spears from under their cloaks.
Damn!
Scar's eyes widened in shock, his mind barely catching up before the long spear was already piercing towards him, saved only by his years of instincts, using an axe to block.
With a clang, the bright spear tip sparked against the axe.
Scar felt his palms go numb, his axe nearly falling to the ground as he stumbled back, narrowly escaping.
But others weren't as lucky as him; screams echoed around him.
Scar felt his scalp tingle, as these men rode their horses through them, their hands wielding long spears, skewering his brothers to the ground like picking fish.
In the blink of an eye, twenty-four men were nailed to the ground, seven or eight dead, while others were knocked down by the horses, rolling on the ground.
Screams were continuous.
What is going on?
"It's them!"
A man's scream came from behind.
"It's them! They are the bandits who kill robbers!"
No way, such a group really exists?
And we just happen to run into them?
Scar's mind was in chaos.
If we can't win, we run; this has been Scar's secret to survival for many years.
"Fight them." He shouted loudly, smashing his axe towards the horsemen in front, seemingly attacking but instead turning to run towards the back village.
As long as he could get into that village, he might have a chance to escape these people.
But only three or four steps into his run, a long spear pierced him from behind.
Scar slowly collapsed to the ground, motionless.
Unlucky, I only stole a chicken.
The screams were gradually subsiding, as these horse-mounted men efficiently reaped the lives of the bandits.
The man leading the way, upon seeing the scythe approaching, for a moment forgot to be afraid, his gaze shifting to the horsemen behind him.
On the road, a young woman still sat upright on her horse, her face gentle and serene as if admiring the beautiful winter scenery.
But he remembered that command to attack, it was a woman's voice.
It was that gentle female voice that turned them into slaughtered lambs.
So the leader of this band of bandits was a woman.
He saw, he knew, but he was about to die.
With a faint schick, a scythe sliced through his neck.
The last man fell to the ground, twitching a few times before lying still.
The road was quiet once more.
"Let's wrap up," Miss Jun said as her horse stepped over the corpses, proceeding forward on blood-stained tracks.
The men reinserted their long spears and scythes under the cloaks on their horsebacks, spurring their horses to follow.