Chapter 427: Is the Key Point the Spoon?

Before long, many people on the dock were eating fried dough twists.They were crispy and crunchy, making a snapping sound with each bite.

If the Gluttonous Deity had seen this, it likely wouldn’t have driven him crazy. Modern people were basically immune to fried dough twists, but for those enduring the severe drought years, taking a single bite felt supremely satisfying.

Old Nan Feng gnawed on a fried dough twist while gazing at the sky, tears streaming down his face: “Ah, my flower-filled Central Plains world, there are so many treasures here.”

He was lost in mournful sentimentality!

All three cargo ships had unloaded their goods. The captain of the warship held a freshly fried dough twist, waved at Old Nan Feng, winked, and loudly ordered: “Set sail, we’re heading home!”

The warships and cargo ships both departed the shore and headed upstream.

Old Nan Feng was rushing with pride, stuffed the fried dough twist in his hand into his mouth, crunched it while chewing, and swiftly climbed the highest watchtower.

On the watchtower, two sentinels were peering through binoculars at the distant woods. Old Nan Feng whispered: “Did you see them?”

“Yes,” the sentinel whispered back: “Just as our ships left the shore, a person burst out of the woods and raced northwards at full speed.”

Like a domineering tycoon, Old Nan Feng gave a sinister smirk: “Good, excellent!”

He hurriedly climbed down the watchtower, grabbed a Militia Soldier at random, and said with a laugh: “Prepare for battle. Have all the firearm soldiers ready, guarding each firing hole.”

The wooden stockade wall was single-layered, with no space to stand on the top, so the defense method differed from that of a fortified wall. They couldn’t prepare rolling logs and stones atop it, and their own spear soldiers couldn’t possibly scale the wall to defend.

However, firing holes could be dug into this single-layered wall for the firearm soldiers, allowing them to take cover and shoot effectively.

Large groups of soldiers took their positions and were soon battle-ready.

Old Nan Feng led the over two hundred cavalry left by Zao Ying to a side gate of the stockade and said with a smile: “Wait here, don’t move without this general’s order.”

The cavalry replied: “Yes, sir!”

As the soldiers began moving, a tense atmosphere spread across the stockade. The civilians noticed the abnormality right away and started whispering among themselves: “Did you see? They’re preparing for battle.”

“Is it time to fight?”

“Surely the roving bandits are coming?”

“Oh dear, what should we do? Our cannon ship just left, and the roving bandits arrived now? Did they deliberately wait for our cannon ship to go?”

“Without the cannon ship, the salt smugglers have only a few hundred soldiers. Can they fight thousands of roving bandits?”

The civilians were extremely nervous; large crowds surged toward Master Zhan Sheng, awaiting his decision.

Master Zhan Sheng let out a long sigh: “Everyone, grab your tools—sticks, hoes, rakes, pot lids, spoons—whatever you have. We’ve all eaten well these past few days and gained strength. The riffraff soldiers on the roving bandits’ side aren’t much tougher than any of you, so don’t be afraid.”

“Master, we have all the other weapons, but we really don’t have spoons.”

Two veins bulged on Master Zhan Sheng’s bald head: “Is the key point of this poor monk’s speech the spoon? Can’t you grasp the key point?”

Old Zhang Fei’s main force arrived!

As usual, thousands came in one wave.

That scoundrel attacked the ancient ferry dock last time; the warships bombarded him furiously, and the rifled gun troops on the ships shot dead several fierce bandit leaders, causing him heavy losses. The Pujiao Temple battle also saw him lose his adoptive son, Xiao Zhang Bao.

But…

The number of people in his gang this time was actually even larger.

This was a typical feature of the Peasant Wars of the Late Ming Dynasty. In the early to middle stages of the war, the bandit army lost almost every battle, yet managed to grow larger with each defeat. No matter how brutally the officials beat them up, their numbers only increased.

Last month they took a beating, but the next month they had an extra thousand men!

Could you believe it?

Old Nan Feng chewed on a blade of grass, watching the approaching bandit army with a look of disdain, too lazy to even comment.

Gao Chuwu shook his head, speaking with the typical Gaojia Village mindset: “These scoundrels have forcibly recruited many peasants from the surrounding villages again.”

“Probably not many villagers are left alive outside Puzhou City,” Old Nan Feng said. “The surrounding area has been plundered round after round by them. Those still alive have either hidden in Puzhou City, taken refuge in Pujiao Temple, or come to us.”

At this point, Old Nan Feng grinned. “General Gao, do you know what this means?”

Gao Chuwu chuckled. “Huh? Testing me? Don’t think I’m dumb now. If I think hard, I can get the right answer too.”

He started racking his brain!

Pow!

A lightbulb went off in his head. He had it! Gao Chuwu laughed. “This means when we drive the sun chariot fast outside Puzhou, we won’t run over any pedestrians! We can speed as much as we want!”

Old Nan Feng: “…”

The soldiers nearby: “…”

Silence. An eerie silence.

It took a while before Old Nan Feng, clutching his chest, managed to say: “It means if Old Zhang Fei’s gang doesn’t attack Puzhou City, they’ll have nothing left to plunder here. They’ll have to leave the area and go cause trouble somewhere else.”

Gao Chuwu: “Ah? That can’t happen! We can’t let them go ruin other people’s lives!”

Old Nan Feng gave a dark chuckle. “Then we have to kill Old Zhang Fei right here.”

Gao Chuwu clenched his fist. “Alright! Kill him.”

“Kill them all!” Outside the stockade, as Old Zhang Fei’s army drew closer, the bandit chief himself was shouting orders. “Those salt smugglers in that stockade killed my son Xiao Zhang Bao! I want those salt smugglers to suffer a fate worse than death.”

“Their big cannon ship has already sailed away! Xing Honglang herself isn’t here either. The salt smugglers left to guard the stockade are a bunch of useless rabble without their leader.”

Old Zhang Fei roared. “Listen up, men! Fight hard! Take down this stockade, and those three ships full of grain will be ours!”

“Howwwwl! Grain!”

Fighting to avenge Xiao Zhang Bao held little interest for the bandits, but the prospect of seizing grain instantly invigorated them.

What did three huge cargo ships packed with grain mean?

Fortune! Freedom from hunger!

The eyes of many bandits instantly turned red with greed.

Seeing the soaring morale, Old Zhang Fei couldn’t help but smirk inwardly. Excellent. With this fighting spirit, the battle is as good as won. Though the enemy lacks the big cannon ship, they likely still have a lot of those firearms. Those things make a thundering sound when fired, really battering morale. But by stirring up the men’s greed with the promise of grain, I’ve pushed them into a frantic, loot-crazy frenzy. This means the firearms will do much less damage to their spirit.

So long as all my men fight without fear of death, breaking into a measly wooden stockade shouldn’t be too difficult.

“Bring out the heavy wooden planks we prepared earlier!”

At Old Zhang Fei’s command, the bandit troops produced many thick, heavy planks. These things were at least an inch and a half thick and incredibly heavy; it was tough going even for one bandit to lug a single plank. Yet, they were incredibly effective at stopping firearm bullets.