Chapter 124: Hilltop Sniping

The power of a single arrow. Under the stunned gaze of everyone present, Ding Li, who had been lying prone on the cargo bed of the carriage, slowly rose. Without so much as a glance at the band of thieves below the hillside, now paralyzed by sudden terror, he reached into the quiver beside him and drew another crossbow bolt, calmly reloading his weapon.

At the foot of the hill, Zhang Wu, who had been mounted, leaped to the ground, pulling on his reins to use his steed as a shield. With cold sweat beading on his forehead, he glanced sideways at his fallen subordinate, who had died a gruesome death. A sudden chill swept down his back, and he shivered violently.

"It's an ambush! Everyone, watch out for sneak attacks!" Zhang Bala, who had remained behind to oversee the formation, snapped out of his shock. Ignoring the collective gasps of his men, he drew the blade hanging from his saddle. He scanned his surroundings while shouting, clearly wary of the throat-piercing shot that had just claimed a life with such lethal ease.

"It’s not an ambush; it’s the people in the caravan on the hill." In the midst of the panic, Qin Mo, whose fingers were missing, stared ahead with gloomy eyes. With his keen eyesight, he locked onto Ding Li and Heizi almost instantly. He spurred his horse toward Zhang Bala and said calmly, "Brother Zhang, it seems there are experts on the other side. Even back when you served under the Great General Tianbu (Wang Xianzhi), I doubt you ever saw such marksmanship at this distance."

"Y-yes, indeed..." Zhang Bala did not want to undermine his own morale, but the arrow he had just witnessed left him no room for denial. Zhang Bala was no green recruit; he was a veteran of the battlefield. Years ago in the north, he had followed General Wang Xianzhi in the uprising. After the Great General was defeated and killed, Zhang Bala had managed to escape with his life and rallied a band of a hundred men, engaging in guerrilla warfare against government troops. Later, he followed the remnants of the rebel forces south, and after a localized defeat in the Fujian region, he and his brothers had moved toward the Guangzhou prefecture, hoping to strike while they still had some strength left.

After a moment of deliberation, Zhang Bala made a decision. He frowned and asked Qin Mo and the just-arriving Wang Qing, "It seems that arrow was a warning from the enemy. Gentlemen, what do you suggest we do now?"

"Brother Zhang, if there were only one expert archer, it would be manageable. But if there are several, our situation is grim." Qin Mo pondered for a moment. Seeing that Wang Qing, who stood nearby, seemed unwilling to speak, he shared his concerns honestly.

"Yes, that's true. Sigh." Zhang Bala nodded, feeling dejected. He shared Qin Mo's worries. At that moment, Zhang Wu, who had led the charge, retreated in shame, carrying the corpse of his dead subordinate. The sight drew sighs and lamentations from the surrounding thieves.

"How could there be so many expert archers? It’s impossible. Perhaps that shot was just a fluke." Seeing Zhang Bala’s brother suffer a setback, Wang Qing, his rival, felt a sudden sense of satisfaction. He urged his horse forward a few steps, looking at the brothers with contempt. He gave a faint scoff, then kicked his stirrups to move forward, intentionally raising his voice: "It's just one guy hiding in the shadows shooting cold arrows. Are we really going to let him stop hundreds of us in our tracks? If you're afraid, go hide at the back of the line and stop being an eyesore."

"Wang Qing, what the hell do you mean by that?" Zhang Wu, already temperamental and reeling from the loss of his trusted man, felt Wang Qing’s words were like pouring oil on a fire. He flew into a rage, dropped his reins, and moved to draw his blade, but the quick-thinking Zhang Bala spurred his horse forward to wedge himself between them. Zhang Wu continued to stomp and roar at Wang Qing: "If you've got guts, you go up there! If you aren't afraid of dying, charge! Let's see if that cold arrow can take your life."

"Old Five, enough!" Zhang Bala felt a headache coming on; his brother was a powder keg. He glared at Zhang Wu. Although he was dissatisfied with Wang Qing’s words, he had his own agenda. He gritted his teeth and suppressed his anger, turning back to Wang Qing: "Brother Wang, you saw what just happened..."

"Brother Bala, spare me the nonsense." Wang Qing dismissed him impatiently. He glanced at him, turned his gaze back to the caravan on the hill, and said coldly, "One word: are we attacking or not? I don't have the time to stand here with my men. Otherwise, I’ll take them to find another caravan."

"Attack, of course we're attacking. Why would we let a piece of fat meat slip through our fingers?" Seeing this, Zhang Bala no longer hesitated. He nodded heavily, then changed his tone, adding with some hesitation: "But there must be a method to this attack. We can't just let our brothers go up there to die. That ambush on the hill..."

"Brother Bala, war is always about casualties. You haven't forgotten that, have you?" Before Zhang Bala could finish, Wang Qing interrupted again, his eyes filled with disdain. He gave a mocking laugh, pointed his arm at the hill, and shouted loudly, "My men are no cowards. Wealth is sought in the midst of danger. If you’re afraid to risk your lives, you might as well drop your weapons and go home to farm."

With that, Wang Qing surged forward, shouting, "Brothers! Speed up and charge! Follow me!"

Wang Qing held significant prestige among his hundred men. A dozen riders immediately followed, and soon more cavalrymen joined the charge. Seeing this, Zhang Bala could no longer argue with Wang Qing. He hurriedly shouted at the still-fuming Zhang Wu: "Old Five, what are you waiting for? Brother Wang is leading the charge—this is a perfect opportunity! Go, take our men and get up there!"

"Let’s go, brothers! Let’s show them that we aren't cowards either!" Zhang Wu glared fiercely at Wang Qing’s back, gritted his teeth, and leaped onto his horse, kicking his stirrups and bolting forward.

*Whiz.*

The moment Zhang Wu spurred his horse forward, he felt the air around him torn apart by a shining arrow. In an instant, his breathing stopped, and his chest felt as if it were crushed by a giant stone. Only when a bright, crimson spray of blood appeared before his eyes did he finally exhale. Almost immediately, a thief charging beside Wang Qing was ruthlessly thrown from his horse.

Another throat-piercing shot. The victim didn't even make a sound, and the dull thud of his body hitting the ground was drowned out by the thunder of hooves. Yet, the whistling sound of the arrow struck terror into the men, causing many to instinctively pull back on their mounts.

"Charge! Don't stop! Accelerate!" Wang Qing, sensing his men's hesitation, looked back and shouted encouragement: "There's only one of them! Speed up! He can't fire many arrows!"

Before the words had even left his mouth, Wang Qing, a veteran of many battlefields who had climbed out of piles of corpses, felt a chill rise from the depths of his soul. Acting on pure instinct, he flattened himself against his horse's back. A clear, ear-piercing whistle cut through the air. A second later, as he braced himself, he heard the distinct sound of a crossbow bolt piercing flesh.

*Thwack.*

Feeling the chill still lingering at the back of his neck, Wang Qing didn't dare rise from his saddle. He carefully looked ahead, a jolt of alarm running through him: there was more than one expert archer sniping from the hill.

"What a pity..." Heizi, lying on the cargo bed, stared at the scene for two seconds and sighed, though his hands didn't stop moving; he had already pulled out a refined iron bolt and slotted it into the groove.

"It’s not a pity. At least it didn't miss." On the carriage next to him, Ding Li didn't turn his head as he comforted Heizi. With a faint *click*, he reloaded his crossbow, pressed his arms firmly against the quilt laid out before him, closed one eye, and began to aim. He softened his tone and added, "They’re leaders, after all. They’re bound to have some defensive skills. You can't expect to kill them all with a single shot."

*Twang.*

As soon as he finished speaking, Ding Li pulled the trigger. The iron bolt flashed with a cold, cyan light in the sun, tracing a straight line through the air. In the blink of an eye, Wang Qing, who was crouched low and maneuvering his horse to dodge the arrows, heard the faint but clear sound of death once more.

*Thwack.*

Wang Qing felt a pang of regret. Judging by the timing of these three shots, he was certain they were fired by three different people. But when another whistling sound pierced the air, he felt as if his very guts were twisting in knots.

"It’s not three—it’s four." Wang Qing was filled with regret. He and his men had only covered thirty paces, yet four men had already died to the archers' cold, hidden shots. Even without considering the archers and crossbowmen hiding behind the caravan who would surely intercept them once they reached the eighty-pace mark, he couldn't estimate how many more men would fall before they even closed the remaining distance.

"Brother Li, get ready." Taking advantage of the momentary pause between shots, Ding Li, familiar with the Qin crossbows, didn't even look back as he reloaded and shouted to Li Shan, who was crouching behind him: "Brothers with crossbows, don't rush. Seventy paces is enough to be lethal. The gap in numbers is too large; don't waste the opportunity."

"Brothers, listen to Brother Ding! Stay steady! Everyone, stay steady! Don't fire yet!" Li Shan nodded from behind, turned his horse, and shouted to the guards and the Zhang Merchant Guild’s escort, then turned to the drivers who were hastily preparing: "I’m counting on you all. Prepare!"