The rebel army did not retreat in panic.
It unraveled.
There is a difference.
An imperial army retreats like a broken wall collapsing in sequence. A rebel army dissolves like mist. It has no rigid structure to fracture. It simply spreads.
And this, ironically, was one of its greatest strengths.
Unlike the tightly drilled formations of the Ming regulars, the rebel host had always been loosely organized. A minor chieftain commanded a few hundred men loyal to him personally. A mid-tier leader could gather a thousand. Allegiance flowed horizontally rather than vertically. Orders did not descend like law. They spread like rumor.
So when the command came to disperse, they did not hesitate.
Groups peeled away from the main body as naturally as leaves falling from a tree.
Three hundred men slipped into a western ravine.
Eight hundred vanished toward a bamboo forest.
A thousand more climbed toward hidden cave networks only charcoal burners and hunters remembered.
Within a short time, what had once looked like a black tide rolling across the Chengdu Plain disappeared into the vast folds of the Shu Mountains.
From a distance, they watched the reconnaissance hot air balloon drifting in the sky.
They observed its altitude.
Its angle.
The direction of its shadow.
They were not fools.
They chose thick groves where sunlight barely touched earth. They slid into ditches overgrown with vine. They tucked themselves beneath layered canopy where even birds might hesitate to fly.
Only a few scouts moved about, singly or in pairs. Never in groups large enough to catch attention.
The logic was simple.
That balloon sees crowds.
It does not see a single man breathing quietly beneath leaves.
Chuang Wang himself abandoned Jian'ge Pass.
A fixed stronghold was now a target. Cannons loved stone walls.
He gathered his trusted Old Eighth Squad and withdrew into a narrow ravine whose walls rose steep and damp. There, beneath hanging moss and shadow, he crouched.
A wolf does not sleep in open fields.
---
Southward, a scout rushed to Cheng Xu, holding a bamboo tube just lowered from the sky.
He knelt.
"The observer reports that Chuang Wang has withdrawn from Jian'ge and dispersed into the mountains. Saturation bombardment is no longer feasible."
Cheng Xu exhaled slowly.
"What a shame."
Beside him stood the mass-produced Dao Xuan Tianzun.
He chuckled lightly.
"That may be for the best. Jian'ge Pass is an ancient relic. Destroying such a site would be regrettable. Leave it intact. One day, the people of Sichuan may charge admission and improve their livelihood."
Cheng Xu wisely did not respond.
When Dao Xuan Tianzun spoke of the distant future, ordinary officials pretended not to understand.
The scout continued.
"The balloon observer reports no visible rebel formations. They are hiding extremely well."
Dao Xuan Tianzun nodded.
"This Chuang Wang is not brainless."
Cheng Xu crossed his hands behind his back.
"Fortunately, we anticipated this and invited the Pacification Commissioners."
Qin Liangyu stepped forward.
Her voice cut through the air.
"White Pole Soldiers. Advance."
Ran Ke followed immediately.
"Yellow Pole Soldiers. Move."
The Enshi Pacification Commissioner raised his spear.
"Black Pole Soldiers. Forward."
The mountain troops did not march in neat straight lines.
They flowed.
They dispersed with purpose.
They did not fear forests.
They belonged to them.
---
Er Zhi Hu lay in ambush with eight hundred elite men inside a dense grove.
The canopy above was so thick that even midday light entered in fragments.
Through a small gap he could see the balloon floating far off.
"They cannot see us," he muttered smugly. "If they cannot see us, they cannot blast us."
His men nodded, confidence rising.
Time passed.
Too much time.
Er Zhi Hu's brow tightened.
"Our scouts have not returned."
A subordinate replied softly, "They should have checked in by now."
"Send another group."
The second scout team slipped out.
They moved carefully. Avoided snapping twigs. Crossed a shallow ditch.
Then they froze.
Bodies.
The first team.
Each with a small arrow embedded precisely in the throat.
One scout crouched.
"Forest-piercing arrow."
Another swallowed.
Those arrows were crafted for mountain warfare. Short, heavy, able to weave between branches with frightening accuracy.
Fear crept in.
One scout stood abruptly.
"We must report—"
Dry leaves beside him exploded upward.
A figure erupted from the forest floor itself.
A Black Pole spear thrust forward.
Thud.
The spear pierced the scout cleanly.
The warrior laughed coldly.
"The First Warrior of Enshi is here."
Around them, grass and leaf cover burst open.
More Black Pole scouts.
Silent until they struck.
Within moments, Er Zhi Hu's second scout team lay dead.
The First Warrior let out a series of bird calls.
Moments later, the Enshi Pacification Commissioner emerged with a large Miao contingent.
He glanced at the First Warrior.
The warrior nodded.
"No resistance. We proceed."
The Commissioner beamed.
"Excellent. I will record this as great merit. Upon return, your household shall receive ten catties of cured meat."
The First Warrior's eyes widened like a child promised festival sweets.
"Ten catties?"
To a mountain family, that meant winter security.
He straightened proudly.
The Black Pole Soldiers continued advancing, clearing the path.
Behind them followed a thousand Gao Family Village Militia under Gao Chuwu.
With tribal scouts ahead, the firearms unit moved smoothly, never walking blindly into traps.
---
Back in the grove, Er Zhi Hu waited.
First scouts silent.
Second scouts silent.
Realization struck him like cold water.
He leapt up.
"The imperial troops are closing in!"
A stern voice rang out from the trees.
"Too late."
A forest-piercing arrow streaked through the branches.
Such an arrow did not travel straight. It curved, adjusted, threaded gaps between trunks as if guided by memory.
It flew for Er Zhi Hu's throat.
He barely saw it.
A loyal subordinate beside him lunged forward.
Thud.
The arrow buried into the man's chest.
He collapsed instantly.
"Enemy attack!"
A volley followed.
Arrows slicing through foliage.
Rebel soldiers raised shields hurriedly.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Several fell screaming.
Er Zhi Hu gritted his teeth.
"Charge! They are only tribal archers!"
His eight hundred were hardened fighters. They roared and rushed toward the arrow source.
They burst through thick undergrowth.
And stepped into a clearing.
Waiting there calmly stood a large formation.
Firearms leveled.
Gao Chuwu at the front.
He barked.
"Fire."
Gunshots erupted.
Thunder within forest walls.
Smoke rolled outward.
Rebels fell instantly in clusters.
Panic rippled.
Still, a few fearless bandits charged forward through the smoke.
One rushed straight at Gao Chuwu, saber raised.
Gao Chuwu laughed loudly.
As the saber descended, he sidestepped casually.
With a smooth motion, he drew the heavy-backed broadsword gifted by Xing Honglang.
The blade flashed.
It did not merely cut.
It cleaved.
The charging rebel froze mid-stride.
Then split at the waist.
Even a small tree behind him snapped in two from the residual force.
The militia soldiers holding firearms felt chills crawl down their spines.
Gao Chuwu looked at the fallen tree and scratched his head.
"Ah. I did not restrain my strength. Apologies."
He turned to the First Warrior of Enshi.
"Do not waste that tree. Good wood for spear shafts."
The First Warrior wiped sweat from his brow.
He stared at Gao Chuwu with newfound humility.
"What a formidable general," he admitted quietly. "I am not his equal."
And deep within the forest, the rebel ambush had already collapsed.
Ten catties of meat had bought more than merit.
They had bought momentum.