“A bunch of spineless idiots! You think kneeling and surrendering will really spare your lives?!”
“You’re pirates—vile, sin-ridden pirates whose crimes could fill a bamboo scroll! Which one of you doesn’t have blood on your hands? Which one hasn’t committed murder, arson, rape, or plunder—crimes worthy of death?!”
“You think dropping your blades will make you saints?! You don’t actually believe the court will pardon your death sentences, do you? Too naive! The court’s mouth is a lying ghost—nothing but a road to death awaits you!”
From the opposite riverbank, Xu Hai and Ma Ye watched as Zhu Pingan’s simple words brought a crowd of pirates to their knees in surrender. Their faces darkened with rage, and they furiously berated the surrendering pirates for their lack of backbone.
“Pah! If you’ve got so much spine, why didn’t you stay here and fight the Ming army to the death? Why’d you run? Why’d you burn the bridge behind you?! Shameless! Incompetent! You’re the real spineless cowards!”
“Yeah, it’s you who got us into this mess! Inept leaders, losing battle after battle, breaking promises, burning bridges after crossing!”
The kneeling pirates harbored even more resentment toward Xu Hai and Ma Ye than toward the Ming army. If the Zhejiang troops were a dagger to the chest, Xu Hai and his ilk were a poisoned blade in the back—how could they not seethe with anger? Before Xu Hai and Ma Ye’s curses even finished, several of the surrendered pirates looked up, hurling sarcastic retorts back across the river.
“You don’t know shit! This is abandoning the cart to save the horse—keep the green hills alive, and there’ll be no shortage of firewood! One day, we’ll return stronger, avenge you, and make them pay a hundred—no, a thousand—times over!”
Ma Ye and the others on the far bank shouted back with lofty, self-righteous indignation.
“Shameless, useless, hypocritical!” The kneeling pirates responded with a torrent of endless insults.
While the two groups of pirates traded barbs, Chen Dong continued his manic, tear-streaked laughter—half-crazed, half-sobbing.
“Tie them up!” Zhu Pingan ordered, waving a hand dismissively, uninterested in their squabble.
At his command, the Zhejiang soldiers descended like tigers from the mountains. With lengths of hemp rope, they bound the kneeling pirates’ hands behind their backs, then strung them together like tethered goats.
“Stop laughing, damn it!”
One soldier reached Chen Dong and, with a swift motion, delivered a resounding slap across his face, snapping him out of his delirium.
“What the hell?! Do you even know who I am?!”
Chen Dong, dazed from the slap, jolted back to reality from his half-mad state. He turned, glaring ferociously at the soldier. He’d thought he’d hit rock bottom already—how could it get worse? To be slapped by some nameless grunt? This wasn’t just a tiger fallen from grace—it was a tiger plunged into a dung pit!
If Zhu Pingan, the Zhejiang commander, had slapped him, Chen Dong wouldn’t have minded much. Victory and defeat were part of the game.
But to be slapped by a lowly, no-name Zhejiang soldier? It was an insult beyond measure!
I’m Chen Dong, one of the great leaders of the Taklimakan Pirate Alliance!
Even with a broken leg, even betrayed and abandoned, even ignored by my former underlings, my tiger’s might still lingered! No pirate with a shred of sense would dare lay a finger on me!
And you—a mere Zhejiang nobody—dare to slap me? You’re digging your own grave!
“What’re you glaring at? Who are you?! You’re our defeated foe, our prisoner!” The soldier backhanded Chen Dong with another slap.
Two slaps in a row—Chen Dong tasted the greatest humiliation of his life. His chest heaved, his eyes nearly popping from their sockets.
“What? Not happy about it? Want another one?!” The soldier shot him a glare.
Chen Dong let out a grunt, inwardly cursing the soldier’s ignorance, but chose to back down. In broad daylight, he wasn’t about to take a third slap. He was already a wreck—he didn’t need to make it worse.
Seeing Chen Dong quiet down, the soldier grabbed him, ready to tie him into the chain of captives.
“Ergouzi, he’s a big fish. Bind him separately and guard him closely. If he escapes, it’s on you,” Zhu Pingan called out, noticing the scene and nodding toward the soldier.
As for Ergouzi landing two slaps on Chen Dong, Zhu Pingan turned a blind eye. A pirate like him wasn’t worth pity—two slaps were nothing.
While the Zhejiang soldiers bound the surrendered pirates, Zhu Pingan strolled leisurely to the river’s edge, gazing quietly at the pirates on the opposite bank. Liu Dadao and the others flanked him, shields raised, never straying a step.
After chopping down the bridge, Xu Hai and his crew on the far bank grew complacent. Instead of fleeing further, they rested by the river.
Indeed, with the bridge gone, Zhu Pingan couldn’t touch them for now. But he knew his own limits. Even if the bridge still stood, he wouldn’t have pressed an attack. The Zhejiang army’s gunpowder was nearly depleted—enough for maybe three more volleys of arquebus fire. After that, nine out of ten guns would be reduced to glorified clubs, forcing a cold-weapon melee.
Truth be told, in a straight-up blade fight, the Zhejiang troops were no match for battle-hardened pirates.
If the pirates hadn’t burned the bridge and instead held it for a last stand, Zhu Pingan would’ve ordered three volleys of kite-and-run fire, then pulled back with whatever gains he could.
Luckily, the pirates’ courage had been shattered—they’d lost their nerve for a desperate stand.
This time, forcing half the remaining pirates to surrender and capturing Chen Dong alive had met Zhu Pingan’s expectations—no, exceeded them.
He gazed at the few hundred pirates left on the far bank, a slight tug at his lips. There was still a twinge of regret.
If only he could’ve wiped them all out. Xu Hai was, historically, the second-largest pirate force after Wang Zhi! Taking him down would’ve cut the pirate scourge by nearly half, sparing the common folk a lot of suffering.
Even in the short term, the leaderless pirates in Taklimakan could be easily mopped up before they grew stronger.
Heh.
He was getting greedy.
Rome wasn’t built in a day, nor does a man get fat from one bite. Today’s victory had already far surpassed his hopes.
The pirates wouldn’t escape forever!
Today’s regrets could be rectified tomorrow!
Zhu Pingan shrugged, his gaze firming. He’d let Xu Hai keep his head for now—but he’d claim it another day!
“Zhu Pingan! Don’t get too smug! You beat us today, but just you wait—we’ll come back a hundredfold stronger. When that day comes, I’ll make you beg for life and death alike, avenging my fallen brothers!”
Xu Hai stepped forward from the crowd on the far bank, brandishing his pirate blade, pointing at Zhu Pingan with gritted teeth.
“Xu Hai! You got lucky today, slipping through the cracks. Next time, you won’t have such dogshit luck! You came knocking on Suzhou’s door today—tomorrow, I’ll bring an army to your doorstep. Wash your neck and wait—don’t dirty our blades!” Zhu Pingan smirked dismissively, his voice calm but cutting.
