“Men with bits in their mouths, horses with muffled hooves, banners lowered, drums silenced—conceal all sound and charge full speed to the Kunshan riverbank.”
After leading the Zhejiang army away from the city gates, Zhu Ping’an ordered the troops to muffle their noise and hasten to Kunshan at top speed.
Every soldier bit down on a twig, their horses’ hooves wrapped in two layers of cloth. Even the bridles had sticks tied in to keep the mules from neighing.
Zhu Ping’an was no exception, snapping off a branch to hold in his mouth as he whipped his horse into a full gallop.
The journey was uneventful. Aside from startling a flock of birds and some stray livestock, they encountered no one, arriving smoothly at the Kunshan riverbank.
Kunshan, also known as “Deer City,” earned its name from legend. It was said that King Shou Meng of Wu once established a preserve here to raise deer for hunting, building a settlement called West Deer City. Later, it became Kunshan County because its administrative seat lay northwest of the Kunshan hill within its borders.
Yet Kunshan, nestled in Jiangnan, was mostly a flat expanse of crisscrossing rivers, save for that single hill.
Ancient bridges, winding streams, and rows of villages sleeping along the water painted a scene like a landscape scroll.
But the pirate scourge had driven the villagers away. No sound of chickens or dogs broke the silence, leaving the place devoid of life.
Such a beautiful Jiangnan water town, reduced to lifeless desolation, only strengthened Zhu Ping’an’s resolve to eradicate the pirates swiftly.
*Since I, Zhu Ping’an, have come to this era, I won’t stand by and watch history’s tragedies repeat. I’ll end the pirate menace sooner and better than history records—giving the empire’s people a better, more dignified life!*
“Dadao, check that grove over there—see if Chen Dacheng and his men are inside,” Zhu Ping’an said after scanning the terrain around the Kunshan riverbank, pointing to a nearby dense forest.
Back when they broke out of the Fengqiao camp, Zhu Ping’an had ordered Chen Dacheng to lead eighty Zhejiang cavalry to hide at the Kunshan riverbank, preparing a grand “gift” for the pirates.
Given the landscape, the likeliest spot for them to conceal themselves—aside from distant hills—was this forest. The hills were too far, several miles away, making it hard to monitor the river and risking missed opportunities. The grove was the best bet.
“Got it. I’ll see if Old Chen’s holed up in there,” Liu Dadao replied, dismounting and darting toward the trees. Once inside, he put his fingers to his mouth, puffed out his cheeks, and let out a loud “coo-coo-coo-coo…”—a bird call repeated three times.
“Chirp-chirp-cheep-cheep…”
Shortly after, a responding bird call echoed from deep within the forest—three times as well.
“Heh, Little Chen’s in there alright,” Liu Dadao grinned, rubbing his chin as he heard the reply.
The Zhejiang army used bird calls to signal, a trick Zhu Ping’an had taught them. Back in their bandit days, they’d done the same, but out-of-season calls had once given them away. Learning from that, their signals now matched the season and region.
Liu Dadao knew the meanings of the calls like the back of his hand.
Sure enough, moments after the response, he emerged from the grove with Chen Dacheng in tow.
Chen Dacheng wore a hat woven from twigs and a cloak of woven straw, blending seamlessly with the surroundings.
“Greetings, my lord…” Chen Dacheng saluted Zhu Ping’an, his voice tinged with excitement. They’d been lying in wait for a day and night in the bitter winter, enduring biting winds and damp, freezing ground. To avoid detection, they couldn’t light fires for warmth or cook food—just gnawed on cold rations. Zhu Ping’an’s arrival meant their suffering hadn’t been in vain.
Their ambush was finally about to pay off—how could they not be thrilled?
“Dacheng, enduring wind and frost in the dead of winter—you’ve worked hard,” Zhu Ping’an said, stepping forward quickly to lift him up. Seeing Chen’s weathered face, he patted his shoulder, moved by their dedication.
“It’s nothing, my lord. What’s this compared to you fighting the pirates to the death?” Chen Dacheng shook his head repeatedly.
“Your efforts are etched in my heart,” Zhu Ping’an said. “Is everything ready?”
“All set, my lord. We brought over two thousand jin of kerosene from the camp. Some was used for the ‘gift,’ but the rest is stashed in the grove, ready to use. Everything else you instructed is prepared too, and the riverbank’s been set up as you ordered,” Chen Dacheng reported earnestly.
“Excellent! That’s a merit in your favor. Now, take us to the grove quickly. Hide the mules first, then prepare to deliver this gift to the pirates,” Zhu Ping’an said, nodding in satisfaction.
“This way, my lord,” Chen Dacheng replied, leading Zhu Ping’an and the others into the forest.
The grove was vast, its edges jaggedly interwoven with swathes of dried reeds. Deep within lay a hidden ravine, thick with trees and shrubs. Since breaking out of Fengqiao, Chen Dacheng and his men had concealed themselves here.
“My lord, this ravine has three exits. One’s wide enough to lead horses through—straight out and ready to ride…” Chen Dacheng explained as he guided Zhu Ping’an inside.
Zhu Ping’an surveyed the ravine and nodded approvingly. It was a perfect spot to hide the mules without risking exposure, and with three exits, they wouldn’t be trapped like fish in a barrel.
Chen Dacheng’s troops were all inside, dressed like him in twig hats and straw cloaks, their faces etched with the toll of the elements. Seeing Zhu Ping’an, they moved to salute.
“No need for formalities in times like these. You’ve all worked hard—I’ll remember it and commend you after the battle,” Zhu Ping’an waved them off, offering words of encouragement.
*A soldier dies for one who knows him.* The men’s spirits soared, their exhaustion replaced by boundless energy.
Under Zhu Ping’an’s direction, the troops gathered the mules in the ravine, positioning them near the horse-friendly exit for a swift departure if needed.
To prevent neighing from giving them away and ruining the plan, Zhu Ping’an kept the sticks in the horses’ mouths.
“Dacheng, let me see this ‘gift’ you’ve prepared,” Zhu Ping’an said after the mules were secured.
“This way, my lord,” Chen Dacheng replied, leading him deeper into the ravine.
