Everyone in the Bai Family Fortress was mobilized. Even Cheng Xu’s one hundred-plus officials joined in, dismantling the rockery garden in the rear courtyard and demolishing the pavilion and corridor in front of the study.

The Bai Family Fortress thus gained two more spacious courtyards to station the magical missiles.

Under Young Master Bai’s direction, a large crowd carried bulky building blocks, thoroughly enjoying themselves while constructing.

Such a grand spectacle of over a hundred people playing with blocks was unfortunately unseen by Li Daoxuan, or he would have been delighted for days.

Finally, three magical missiles were assembled.

Young Master Bai, having fulfilled his task, was sent back to Gaojia Village by Bai Yuan. A half-grown child was not permitted to remain on the battlefield.

Gao Chuwu and Zheng Daniu transported hundreds more plastic shells. Each shell was as long as two men stacked upon each other. Made of hard plastic rather than stone, these “giant shells” were large but not heavy. A few villagers easily lifted them and loaded them into the missile launchers’ barrels.

Bai Yuan personally directed a large group of villagers and sturdy women to practice loading actions. Each magical missile could fire eight shells consecutively. Each shell required a team to handle, necessitating eight teams per missile. For three missiles, twenty-four teams were needed.

Over a hundred villagers were required for this feat of loading ammunition!

They practiced diligently and quickly to minimize the loading time of the magical missiles, ensuring greater confidence when confronting the bandit army.

Thus, one hundred people ceaselessly rotated around the missile launch stands, repeatedly drilling the loading motions.

Cheng Xu watched from the side, a familiar odd feeling rising again: This was during a severe drought! These villagers continuously hauling large, heavy shells in circles must be starving quickly. How were they so willingly obedient?

As he pondered these thoughts, the Bai family steward emerged with a group of servants carrying large baskets. Each basket overflowed with fine steamed buns made from fine white flour. The buns were visibly well-made, plump, white, and substantial.

The steward shouted loudly, “By Lord Bai’s order, eat these buns and resume practice…”

The villagers swarmed forward with a roar. Each grabbed two buns, taking huge bites that left massive crescent shapes. Cheeks bulged as they chewed, their words becoming muffled: “Mmm… fragrant… delicious…”

“Mmm… working for Lord Bai is good… plenty to eat…”

Cheng Xu witnessed this and froze inwardly: Damned if he dared feed the villagers until full! Even his soldiers didn’t eat this well.

He turned instinctively towards his troops—venerable regular soldiers of the Imperial Ming army—all now drooling over the villagers’ buns.

Cheng Xu could only let out a long sigh.

He understood well. Life for military households was tough. Since the Wanli era, the court rarely paid full wages, dragging payments month after month, year after year. Many military households had fled; numerous soldiers had even joined the bandit ranks, becoming fierce warriors among them.

To placate the soldiers who had followed him for years, Cheng Xu had even dipped into his own pocket several times—a painful expense.

Thump!

A large basket laden with steamed buns was placed before Cheng Xu. The Bai steward smiled, “General Cheng, share these among your Military Gentlemen.”

Cheng Xu’s spirits rose, pride washing over him. He was here to exploit the wealthy, after all. He waved at his men: “Eat! Don’t stand on ceremony with Lord Bai. His ancestor was once a magistrate and produced two county magistrates. He’s rich; we won’t eat him out of house and home.”

The soldiers cheered, swarming forward. Dusky hands grabbed at the snow-white buns, leaving grimy handprints.

But it mattered little. Blackened by their own hands, they devoured the buns ravenously. They were so delicious that soldiers licked their fingers clean afterward, whitening their previously sooty hands substantially.

Dawn of the next day had just broken when the sentinel shouted, “Bandits! The bandits are descending the mountain!”

Clang! Clang! Clang!

The sound of bamboo clappers reverberated over the Bai Family Fortress.

Bai Yuan and Cheng Xu were the first to appear on the watchtower. Together, they gazed north towards Huanglong Mountain. Masses of bandit troops were slowly descending the slope.

This time, the bandit force was significantly larger than before.

Cheng Xu assessed with one glance: “Three thousand! At least three thousand! Bu Zhan Ni from Luochuan and Yichuan’s Zuo Guazi are coming together this time.”

The last report of these two joining forces had terrified him. Seeing their approach firsthand now, however, fear vanished. Perhaps “all fear stemmed from firepower deficiency.” With sufficient firepower now, what concern was left? His grandmother lay completely forgotten beyond the clouds.

Pointing towards the hillside, he measured roughly and chuckled, “Almost. They’ve entered the missiles’ range.”

Bai Yuan sounded surprised, “Have they?”

Cheng Xu retorted, “Mr. Bai! Estimating distance by sight is a skill you still need to learn properly from us soldiers.”

Bai Yuan flicked open his folding fan with a snap, revealing the characters “Gentleman.” “This skill falls outside the Six Arts of Gentlemen. I hardly deem learning it necessary.”

Cheng Xu: “…”

Goddamn, I want to hit him. But now was not the time.

Cheng Xu turned towards the villagers already at their posts and bellowed: “Prepare to launch the missiles!”

Hearing the command—regardless of who gave it—the villagers sprang into action. Such was the nature of an untrained rabble: whoever shouted loudest commanded.

Bai Yuan didn’t mind Cheng Xu usurping his command of the villagers. He stood with hands clasped behind his back on the rampart, his gaze fixed far on the bandits slowly descending the slope.

The bandit army was descending…

Bu Zhan Ni, meanwhile, was cursing: “Damn Bai Family Fortress! A paltry few hundred people made me take a big fall! That useless patrol inspector Cheng Xu actually grew a spine! Just relying on those damn catapults and giant crossbow vehicles!”

Zuo Guazi asked, “How can such a tiny fortress have so many Siege Weapons?”

Bu Zhan Ni snapped, “How should I know? I’d like to ask that too!”

Zuo Guazi turned and spoke softly: “Old Lu, advise us how we should attack?”

A fierce bandit, clad in the Ming army’s distinctive cloth armor, bearing a Kaiyuan Bow and a sword, stepped out from behind Zuo Guazi. Clearly, this man had once been an official. Everyone knew his surname was Lu, that he was a border army veteran who had fought numerous battles against northern nomads, but his full name remained unknown—rebels used aliases to protect their families.

Old Lu chuckled darkly, “They expect us to attack from the north. Their catapults and chariots are aimed that way. Once down the mountain, let’s split the main force. Both flanks will circle the Bai Family Fortress. Brother Bu Zhan Ni and Brother Zuo Guazi should each command a column attacking from east and west. Their Siege Weapons turn slowly. They won’t manage both flanks.”

Bu Zhan Ni and Zuo Guazi beamed. “Brilliant plan! An ex-soldier truly understands warfare.”

Just as they finished speaking, their troops cried out: “Eh? What’s flying over here?”

…

Year Seven of Tianqi (1627), August. Hu Tingyan, Provincial Governor of Shaanxi, submitted a memorial:

“Lin-Gong frontier provisions are short by five or six years, exceeding two hundred thousand taels; Jinglu border fortress short by two or three years; Guzhen’s central funds owed from Year Forty-Seven of Wanli to Year Six of Tianqi total over one hundred and fifty-nine thousand taels silver.

“The armies first pawned robes and sold arrows; now they sell children and divorce wives. They once begged on streets; now desert the ranks. Complaints once murmured in sand are now shouted openly.”