Chapter Sixty-Seven: Threat

Amid hurried footsteps, the bearded man’s voice rang out from outside the command post: “General, it’s the mounted bandits.”

Wang Pu received his helmet from Chen Yuanyuan, donned it, and then kicked open the doors, striding out with a commanding presence.

Outside, the bearded man, Little Seven, Zhen Youcai, and others had long been waiting. Wang Pu demanded, “Do you know how many men the mounted bandits have brought?”

Little Seven replied, “At least four or five hundred riders, all stationed to the east.”

“And the west?”

“No movement from the west for now.”

“What about Scarface?”

“He’s watching from the east wall.”

Wang Pu said, “Bearded one, take fifty men to reinforce the western wall and prevent a surprise attack from behind. Little Seven, keep twenty men here to defend the command post. The rest, follow me to the east wall to support Scarface.”

“Yes, sir.” The bearded man and Little Seven replied together, each leading their men off.

When Wang Pu and Zhen Youcai reached the east wall with their group, the pass was shrouded in darkness, but the air was already thick with the acrid scent of gunpowder. Scarface came forward to report, “General, the mounted bandits tried to sneak into the pass, but our hidden sentries spotted them. Failing to surprise us, they launched a direct assault, but our brothers have already repelled their first attack.”

“Casualties?”

“Only one brother suffered a minor wound,” Scarface replied, “but all our sentries outside—both visible and hidden—were killed.”

Wang Pu looked up at the pitch-black sky beyond the pass and asked in a low voice, “How many of the bandits died?”

“It was too dark to see,” Scarface replied.

“Where are the mounted bandits now?”

“Just ahead,” Scarface pointed into the dark expanse before them. “Listen closely, General—you can still hear the horses snorting.”

Wang Pu tilted his head, listening, and indeed caught the faint sounds of horses breathing.

At that moment, hundreds of torches suddenly flared to life beneath the night sky, illuminating the open ground before the pass as if it were broad daylight. In the firelight, the hundreds of mounted bandits stood in formation. Although their ranks were untidy and they lacked the imposing uniforms and armor of regular troops, there was nonetheless a palpable, murderous aura about them.

Since the founding of the Ming dynasty under the Hongwu Emperor, the regime had enforced the Horse Policy, compelling the people of Shandong, Henan, North Zhili, Shaanxi, and Shanxi provinces to raise horses for the court. This policy provided the Ming with an abundance of warhorses but also brought misery to the horse-raising households, many of whom were driven to ruin.

Bankrupted, some of these horse raisers became horse thieves—the original mounted bandits. Raised among horses and skilled with bow and mount from childhood, these ruined families produced bandits more dangerous, elusive, and formidable than any other. Since their emergence, the Ming court had never truly eradicated them.

Over time, their makeup grew more complex. Not only the destitute but also the still-prosperous horse raisers turned to robbery, outwardly remaining law-abiding citizens while secretly resorting to violence and often killing to protect their identities.

With their skill and ruthlessness, the mounted bandits became a force to be reckoned with.

After some thought, Wang Pu commanded, “Scarface, raise the torches and display our banner!”

Standing nearby, Zhen Youcai’s heart skipped—was the General planning to win the bandits over? It was a risky move. Recruiting rogue bandits and mounted outlaws was not difficult; earning their loyalty was the real challenge. Since the beginning of the Chongzhen era, many officials had attempted such reconciliations, only for the bandits to betray them in the end—those officials often met with suicide or murder, rarely a good end.

Scarface hurried to dissuade him, “General, these mounted bandits are deadly archers. I think we should avoid lighting torches, or our men will become easy targets.”

“Raise the torches!” Wang Pu turned and glared fiercely at Scarface. “Show the banner!”

Scarface obeyed, barking out the order, “General’s command—raise the torches and display the banner!”

At his command, the hundred or so guards on the wall struck flints and ignited their torches. Scarface personally unfurled Wang Pu’s general’s banner—under the night breeze, the flags snapped, and the great character “Wang” stood out boldly in the firelight.

Beneath the banner, Wang Pu stood tall in full armor, exuding authority.

The sudden flare of torches and the display of Wang Pu’s general’s banner seemed to catch the bandits outside the gate off guard—a ripple of agitation ran through their ranks, but soon settled. Then, two masked bandits rode out from the group, heading straight toward the gate.

“Brothers, listen up! Do not shoot, nor open fire,” Wang Pu shouted.

Soon, the two masked riders were within twenty paces of the gate. The one on the left raised his head and asked loudly, “If I may ask, are you General Wang Pu of Datong?”

Wang Pu replied in a booming voice, “Indeed, I am he.”

The two riders bowed respectfully to him from horseback. Then the left-hand rider spoke again, “General Wang, you led a thousand men and destroyed the Jurchen stronghold, capturing their chieftain alive. For this alone, you are worthy to stand alongside Lord Yue Fei. You are a true hero—a man we respect. We apologize for today’s offense.”

“No need,” Wang Pu replied coldly. “As long as you remember your duty to the court and from now on live as honest citizens, abandoning your criminal ways, I will not pursue the past.”

“General Wang, you misunderstand,” the bandit’s tone suddenly turned cold. “I am not finished yet.”

“Speak,” Wang Pu said, imperious.

“We respect you as a great hero, General Wang, so tonight we’ll make an exception and not fight. But we have to survive too. We ask that you understand our predicament and share some of the treasures you seized in Liaodong. We don’t ask much—one hundred thousand taels of silver will suffice.”

“In your dreams!” Scarface shouted. “We have no money, but we have lives to give!”

Wang Pu raised his hand, silencing Scarface, and demanded of the bandits, “Do you think victory is already in your grasp?”

Below the wall, the left-hand bandit replied proudly, “No need to hide the truth from you, General. Besides these five hundred riders behind me, there are another five hundred to the west of Futuyu Pass! We’re here for you, General Wang. We’ve already learned all about your situation—you have fewer than three hundred men in total!”

The right-hand bandit added, “We’re not asking for the whole million taels, just a hundred thousand. Be reasonable. If you refuse, then for our survival, we’ll have no choice but to take it by force. If anyone gets hurt, General Wang, that’s fate.”

Wang Pu laughed aloud, three times, then replied coldly, “A tiger that shows no strength is mistaken for a sick cat! I’ve dealt with thousands of Jurchen cavalry—do you think you handful of bandits can threaten me? Come on, I dare you! If you can’t break through this pass, you’re nothing but cowards’ sons. If you’re truly capable, take the silver by force!”

The two riders below snarled, “Since General Wang insists, don’t blame us for what comes next.”

Wang Pu spun around and shouted, “Scarface, form up the ranks!”