Just when you fear something, it comes. No sooner had the pirates decided to retreat than the sound of hoofbeats rolled in from the distance, growing closer.
In the distance, two squads of Zhejiang troops on mules appeared, rapidly closing in.
These were the nearby patrolling squads, rushing to reinforce after seeing the flare.
Being the closest, they arrived first.
Behind them was the original squad that had withdrawn earlier. They’d halted at a distance, reloading their muskets and spare barrels on horseback. Once loaded, they’d charge back in.
“Damn it!”
The pirates’ expressions shifted. Though the arriving Zhejiang force was small, getting tangled up with these squads would surely derail their retreat. The main Zhejiang army was closing in fast.
“We can’t let these small Zhejiang units slow us down, or we’ll be surrounded by their main force!” Xu Hai and the others realised this clearly.
“You, you, you, you—this group stays behind to hold them off. The rest follow us out,” Xu Hai barked, pointing out a cluster of pirates to stay and delay the pursuing Zhejiang squads.
“What?! Why us?!”
The selected pirates felt like disaster had struck from nowhere, groaning and protesting.
“Why you? No reason—just obey. I won’t let you die for nothing. Hold them off for a quarter-hour, and back at the Tuolin stronghold, each of you gets three hundred taels of silver and a rank promotion. I swear it—if I break this oath, may I die pierced by ten thousand arrows!” Xu Hai’s hawk-like gaze swept over them, his tone brooking no dissent. To boost their morale, he added a blood oath and hefty rewards.
Xu Hai wouldn’t go back on his word, though he knew few of these rear-guard pirates would survive to claim it.
“Xu’s word is our word—three hundred taels and a rank up. We won’t break this promise. Take the order with confidence,” Chen Dong and Ma Ye echoed, reinforcing Xu Hai’s oath.
The group Xu Hai picked included not just his own men but also some under Chen Dong and Ma Ye.
They were an alliance, with Xu Hai as the unofficial leader, but he couldn’t directly command Chen Dong’s or Ma Ye’s forces.
“Wow, three hundred taels and a promotion? Back at Tuolin, you’ll be our little bosses!” the other pirates remarked, half in awe, half in sarcasm.
“Jealous? Swap with me then!”
“Boss, how about picking someone else? We’ll step aside…” The chosen pirates pleaded, unwilling to accept the suicidal task and grasping for a way out.
They knew staying behind to face the Zhejiang army meant near-certain death—holding the rear was as good as a death sentence.
Sure, Xu Hai’s promised reward was rich—three hundred taels and a rank up—but you needed a life to enjoy it. No life, no reward.
So they tried to wriggle free.
Xu Hai’s face darkened as he strode over. Without a word, he drew his blade and beheaded the loudest complainer.
“Shut it! Our word is law. Anyone else mouths off, this is your fate! Do it!” Xu Hai flicked the blood from his sword, sheathed it, and spoke coldly.
The pirates fell silent, chilled to the bone.
The chosen group didn’t dare protest further. They had no choice but to stay—disobeying meant instant death; holding the rear at least offered a slim chance.
Every extra moment alive was a win, so they stayed.
Exchanging glances, they silently agreed: they wouldn’t foolishly hold for a full quarter-hour. Once Xu Hai’s group got far enough, they’d bolt—no way they’d play sacrificial lambs.
“Move!” Time was short. Xu Hai gave the rear guard one last look, then waved his hand, leading the rest toward the riverbank.
Though their ships were burned, a few miles down the riverbank was a bridge. They could cross south, head southeast overland, and reach the Tuolin stronghold.
It wasn’t as fast or safe as the sea route, but the land path was shorter—a hard day’s march could get them there.
Chen Dong, supported by two pirates and guarded by his loyal men, followed Xu Hai’s retreat.
They hadn’t gone far when the two pursuing Zhejiang squads closed to within fifty metres.
The rear-guard pirates gripped their blades, reluctantly charging forward.
The Zhejiang soldiers fanned out into a line, reining in their mules, raising their muskets, and firing at the oncoming pirates.
Their horseback training was limited—they couldn’t shoot accurately while riding. Stopping to fire was the only way to ensure decent aim.
*Bang, bang, bang…*
A volley erupted with a cloud of smoke.
Seven or eight of the charging rear-guard pirates fell screaming. This low hit rate was due to firing from muleback. On flat ground, at this range, twenty shots would’ve downed twice as many.
“Baka! Spread out, spread out! Don’t clump up like targets!” The rear-guard leader, a true Japanese pirate, quickly adapted, shouting for his men to disperse.
It worked. When the two Zhejiang squads swapped barrels and fired again, the volley only felled three pirates.
“Yoshi, yoshi, like that! Spread more, charge them, take them out, then we pull back!” Seeing the tactic succeed, the true pirate grinned, leading the charge with his blade raised.
Hearing they could retreat after defeating the Zhejiang troops, the rear guard’s hope flared. They roared and rushed forward.
“Pull back! Regroup with the others behind!” Both Zhejiang squad leaders, having used their spare barrels, ordered a retreat as their muskets turned to useless sticks.
Seeing the squads withdraw, the rear-guard pirates surged with excitement, like they’d been injected with adrenaline.
We scared off the Zhejiang Army! Hahaha, they’re nothing!
The rear guard charged harder.
“The boss said, ‘Shoot the horse to hit the rider, take the king to catch the thief.’ Brothers, see that pirate with the half-armour? That’s the leader—focus fire, take him down!” the retreating squads shouted to the original team, now reloaded and waiting, pointing at the true pirate.
