Chapter 3: Prelude to Bloodshed

The morning mist clung to the village, like a shroud of confusion and despair over the land. Zhang Xing stood at the village entrance, gazing at the rising sun in the distance. Last night's battle was over, but the scattered bodies and bloodstains on the battlefield had yet to be fully cleared, leaving a lingering smell of blood in the air.

"Zhang Xing, what do we do next?" Li He's voice broke the silence from behind, sounding weary. His face bore the exhaustion and unease of last night's fight, but more than that, there was a glimmer of long-lost hope for survival.

"We won last night, but they'll come back," Zhang Xing said cautiously, his tone filled with both wariness and concern.

As expected, the government soldiers had returned with reinforcements, intent on crushing the rebellious villagers. Zhang Xing and the men of the village fought desperately, using the night and the village's terrain to their advantage, and managed to repel the attack, seizing some food and weapons in the process.

However, Zhang Xing knew this was only the beginning. The court's retaliation would be even fiercer next time. Their victory was nothing more than a temporary reprieve.

"Zhang Xing, I think we should leave here and join forces with other rebel villages. There are too many of us here, and if they come again, we won't be able to hold out," Li He suggested, frowning.

Zhang Xing nodded. He had already been thinking along the same lines. They could no longer rely on this small village for survival. The endless taxes, natural disasters, and relentless oppression had driven them to the edge. Rather than waiting for death, it was better to take action and find a new path.

"Go to the surrounding villages and tell them about our victory," Zhang Xing said resolutely. "We can't wait any longer. We need to unite more people."

Li He looked at Zhang Xing, a glimmer of approval in his eyes. Since Zhang Xing had stepped up to lead the rebellion, he had undergone a remarkable transformation—from an unassuming farmer to a leader with the charisma to inspire others. The villagers trusted him because he gave them hope.

"I'll make arrangements right away," Li He responded, leaving with a few others to spread word to the nearby villages.

Zhang Xing turned toward the village. The villagers were already busy—some were sorting through the weapons seized from the soldiers, while others were distributing food. Though their victory had come at a great cost, with a few young men falling in battle and others wounded, they had won through blood and sacrifice.

Zhang Xing walked toward a small, rundown house guarded by an elderly man at the door. Seeing Zhang Xing, the elder stood and bowed. "Zhang Xing, you've come."

Zhang Xing nodded and pushed the door open. Inside lay a young man wrapped in blood-stained cloth. His name was Wang Yong, the bravest among them. Last night, he had been at the forefront, shielding others from the initial charge, but he had taken several blows himself.

"How is Wang Yong?" Zhang Xing asked, concern evident in his voice.

The elder shook his head with a sigh. "His wounds are severe, and he's burning with fever. I'm afraid he won't make it."

Zhang Xing's heart sank. Wang Yong had been one of their greatest hopes. His courage and resolve had inspired many, but now he lay here, his fate uncertain.

"If only we had a doctor or more medicine, Wang Yong wouldn't be suffering like this," Zhang Xing said quietly, his voice filled with helplessness.

The elder glanced at Zhang Xing, his tired eyes reflecting sorrow and exhaustion. "Zhang Xing, we all know you've done your best. This isn't your fault."

Zhang Xing didn't reply. He knew the elder was trying to comfort him, but the weight of responsibility pressed heavily on his shoulders. Looking at Wang Yong, he silently vowed to find more resources and save as many as he could.

"Take care of him. I'll be back soon," Zhang Xing said softly before leaving the house.

Stepping outside, the bright sunlight stung his eyes, and the air was thick with tension and unease. Zhang Xing knew they had no way out. The rebellion had begun, and there was no turning back.

As he pondered their next move, the sound of rapid hoofbeats echoed from the distance. Zhang Xing looked up to see Li He and a few villagers galloping toward him.

"Zhang Xing! Bad news! The soldiers are coming from the east to wipe us out!" Li He gasped, his voice filled with urgency.

Zhang Xing's face darkened. Their victory had barely settled, and now the enemy was returning, determined to crush them once and for all.

"How many are there this time?" Zhang Xing asked coldly.

"About fifty, fully armed. It seems they're determined to finish us off," Li He reported grimly.

Fifty soldiers! For their untrained farmers with little more than makeshift weapons, this would be a fight to the death. Zhang Xing's mind raced, calculating their options. Time was short, but they couldn't just sit and wait to be slaughtered.

"Pass my orders!" Zhang Xing commanded. "All men in the village, grab whatever weapons you can—hoes, sticks, scythes, anything! We'll build another barricade with the stones and wood at the village entrance. If they want to come in, they'll have to walk over our dead bodies!"

Li He nodded and hurried off to relay the orders. The village buzzed with activity as men gathered tools, while women and children helped pile stones and wood. A makeshift barricade quickly took shape at the village entrance. Though not high, it would at least slow the soldiers down.

Zhang Xing stood at the entrance, his gaze fixed on the dust rising in the distance. The soldiers were approaching fast. Behind him, Li He spoke, "Everyone's ready. They're all in position."

Zhang Xing nodded, took a deep breath, and said firmly, "Remember, today's fight isn't for glory, but for survival. There's no turning back!"

His words were like the final battle drum. The villagers' eyes reflected a mixture of resolve and desperation. They knew that if they lost today, not only would their lives be forfeit, but the entire village would be wiped out.

In the distance, the soldiers appeared, their blades gleaming, armor shining coldly under the sun. They marched in formation, advancing steadily toward the village with an overwhelming aura of power.

Zhang Xing tightened his grip on his hoe, his eyes sharp and fierce. He knew this would be a bloody battle, and the cost of victory would be their very lives.

"For survival!" Zhang Xing roared, charging toward the enemy with his hoe raised.