Chen Qiyu, Governor of Yansui, was currently resting in a half-collapsed temple known as Gadu Monastery.
Several days earlier, he had gathered two thousand local garrison troops, reinforced by the personal guards of his own household, and set out to relieve Yanchang County.
At the beginning, everything had gone smoothly.
They marched along the main road, banners flying, drums beating. Along the way, they encountered scattered groups of bandits.
Bandits, of course, were to be suppressed.
Chen Qiyu ordered pursuit.
That decision was where everything went wrong.
The bandits fled deliberately, drawing the government troops deeper and deeper into the mountainous interior of Yanchang County. Ravines crisscrossed the land like a spider's web—deep cuts in the earth that twisted and branched without pattern.
Before Chen Qiyu realized it, he had fallen into the same nightmare faced by the Gao Family Village militia.
In terrain like this, advancing without scouts was suicide.
But sending out scouts was hardly better.
Once scouts entered the ravines, there was no guarantee they would ever return.
Many never even had the chance to send a warning. They were ambushed, cut down, and left to rot in the mountain gullies.
Some scouts struggled up steep slopes, only to have bandits suddenly appear at the ridge above, heaving massive stones down onto them. A single blow was enough to smash bones and end a life, the body tumbling helplessly back to the ravine floor.
It was a battlefield from hell.
Even in later generations, when the Nationalist forces encountered the Communist Party's Shaanxi–Gansu guerrillas in this same region, they had been beaten so badly they could only weep in frustration.
With technology so limited, how could one overcome terrain like this?
Chen Qiyu's troops were no elite force. They were dispirited garrison soldiers, poorly trained and long accustomed to complacency. Under these conditions, morale collapsed with terrifying speed.
Fear spread like a plague.
Many soldiers now wanted nothing more than to retreat to Yan'an Prefecture, abandoning Yanchang County entirely. They didn't care whether the county lived or died—only that they themselves survived.
"Governor," General Luo Xi urged, "we should withdraw to Yan'an. With our current strength, there's no way we can save Yanchang County."
Chen Qiyu snapped back angrily, "Nonsense! We only need to return to the main road. From there, we can advance directly."
Luo Xi shook his head. "Even the main road cuts through these ravines. Ambushes will continue no matter which path we take. The soldiers have already lost the will to fight. Pressing on like this is no different from marching them into a grave."
Chen Qiyu fell silent, his expression dark.
At that moment—
A shrill scream echoed from a distant hillside.
A scout posted there was struck by an arrow, his body tumbling down the slope like a broken doll.
Another scout lost.
Before the shock faded, a deeper sense of dread set in.
This wasn't just a scout being ambushed.
From a ravine to the north came thunderous shouts as a large bandit force surged out.
The scouts assigned to that ravine had sent no warning at all. They had clearly been wiped out in silence, allowing the bandits to creep forward undetected.
Chen Qiyu sprang to his feet. "Engage!"
But the moment he shouted, his heart sank.
The garrison troops weren't charging forward.
They were scattering—running in the opposite direction.
It's over, Chen Qiyu thought grimly. Morale has completely collapsed.
Luo Xi roared orders, and the Luo family guards surged forward, forming a tight defensive ring around both Luo Xi and Chen Qiyu. The Chen family guards quickly followed suit.
"Master, retreat at once!"
"The garrison troops have broken!"
"Our two families alone cannot hold them!"
Fury burned in Chen Qiyu's chest, but reason prevailed. Under the protection of their guards, the two men retreated southward.
They hadn't gone far when another explosion of shouts erupted from a southern ravine.
Another bandit force appeared.
The fleeing government soldiers panicked, froze for an instant, then turned and fled west—
Only to hear fresh battle cries erupt from that direction as well.
Then the east.
Then behind them.
In the blink of an eye, shouts rose from all four directions.
North. South. East. West.
The tiny, dilapidated Gadu Monastery, which had likely never seen such crowds since its construction, was now completely surrounded.
Inside the temple, a headless Buddha statue sat amid rubble. Its broken face, half-smashed and crooked, seemed almost to be grinning.
Chen Qiyu shouted in disbelief, "Is this some kind of joke? Bandits everywhere, and not a single scout warned us?"
Luo Xi answered bitterly, "Scouts are useless in this terrain. Governor, stop scolding—run! If we pick a ravine with fewer bandits and fight through it, we might still survive."
Despite the collapse of the garrison troops, the personal guards of the Chen and Luo families remained unbroken.
They chose the southeast direction, where bandit numbers appeared thinnest, and charged with desperate ferocity.
Fearless of death, the guards hacked and fought, forcing their way forward inch by inch.
But even in the sparsest ravine, the bandits were numerous, layered thickly through the gully like a living wall.
Progress was painfully slow.
If the bandits ahead weren't cleared quickly, those behind would catch up—forming a deadly pincer.
Certain death.
Panic tightened around both Chen Qiyu and Luo Xi like a noose.
Then—
Gunfire.
Sharp, explosive cracks echoed from the ravine ahead.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Bandits in front screamed and fell into chaos.
Luo Xi's face lit up. "Someone's attacking from the front! Reinforcements! The bandits are caught between two fires!"
Chen Qiyu's spirits soared. "At a time like this… it must be Shi Jian, Commander of Hejin!"
Revived by hope, Luo Xi shouted, "Charge! Break through and link up with them!"
But his guards shouted back urgently, "Master, we can't! The reinforcements are using muskets. If we rush into the bandits now, we'll be hit by friendly fire. We must hold position!"
Luo Xi froze. "…Ah?"
Chen Qiyu said nothing, but inwardly he sighed. This man truly lacks battlefield sense.
The guards formed a tight defensive line within the ravine, holding off enemies from both front and rear.
From the southeast came relentless musket fire—bang, bang, bang—like the beating of a war drum.
The bandits ahead grew frantic.
Behind them were musket-wielding soldiers who could kill with a single shot. Ahead of them were Chen and Luo's guards, blocking their escape.
They had trapped themselves.
Weapons began to drop.
One by one, bandits fell to their knees, pressing themselves against the ravine walls, trembling as they surrendered.
Those who refused to surrender were cut down without mercy.
Before long, Chen Qiyu finally saw the reinforcements clearly.
Just as he expected—
It was the "government troops" led by Shi Jian, Commander of Hejin.
Every single soldier carried a musket.
They advanced like an autumn wind sweeping fallen leaves, clearing bandits from the ravines with terrifying efficiency. Behind them remained only kneeling prisoners and corpses.
Shi Jian rode forward, dismounted, and cupped his hands respectfully.
"Governor," he said clearly, "your subordinate has arrived."
Chen Qiyu felt a wave of relief wash over him. "Commander Shi… you arrived at exactly the right moment. And from this ravine, no less. Had you taken any other path, I fear—"
He didn't finish the sentence.
He didn't need to.