Wen San, with his orders, called Big Mouth Li and a few others, grabbing shovels and tools, and hurried to the rear.

Skinny Monkey saw this, his eyes darting as he moved to follow, but Xiangzi’s icy glare stopped him. “Skinny Monkey, what’re you doing? Get to the front and set up!”

Skinny Monkey gave an awkward laugh, scratching his head, and shuffled reluctantly forward.

At the front, Jin Fugui yanked him aside.

Lowering his voice, Jin Fugui hissed, “Monkey, if you still trust me, hold this slope and don’t get any stupid ideas!”

“How could I not trust you, Brother Jin!” Skinny Monkey’s voice spiked, then dropped as he realized his mistake. “Brother Jin, do we really have to fight for Xiangzi?”

Jin Fugui’s temper flared, slapping Skinny Monkey’s head. “Idiot! This isn’t for Xiangzi—it’s for us!”

Skinny Monkey, stung by slaps all day, felt a surge of grievance but, seeing Jin Fugui’s fury, nodded repeatedly, not daring to argue.

But when he turned away, his face twisted with defiance:

Hmph, today I, Monkey, will do something big and show Brother Jin!

As if spurred by Xiangzi’s earlier words.

The howling bandits launched another half-hearted charge.

This wave was smaller—about thirty men waving weapons, shouting loudly from below the slope, but none dared climb.

Xiangzi stared, baffled—What’s this? Putting on a show?

Uncle Jie, relieved, whispered, “They’re pulling back!”

Seeing Xiangzi’s confusion, he explained, “These guys are likely ex-soldiers, used to fighting ‘show battles.’”

Show battles were a bizarre spectacle of this era—when soldiers sensed defeat, they’d fire blanks into the sky, shout, and go through the motions.

For them, soldiering was just for a meal. Whose rations they ate didn’t matter.

When commanders forced them to fight, the rank-and-file had their own ways—no one who survived bullets and blades was a fool.

Thus, show battles became an unspoken norm among the ranks.

If things felt off, they’d put on a grand act—exerting effort without risking lives.

Zhang Dachui’s cavalry, though elite, had charged several times, lost over a dozen wounded, and now resorted to a “show battle.”

Still, Xiangzi’s worries didn’t ease—two ninth-rank martial artists led the bandits. If they charged together, no one here could stop them!

Worse, his own team wasn’t united.

His gaze drifted to Jin Fugui and Skinny Monkey.

Suddenly, his expression froze.

Skinny Monkey bolted, heading for the seemingly weakest path.

Jin Fugui, sensing something, turned and roared, “Monkey, get back here!”

But Skinny Monkey, dead-set on doing something big, didn’t hear the desperate shout.

The low slope had stalled the bandits for nearly half an hour.

Many bandits grew restless, their eyes turning to the bearded man.

After years in the harsh Three Strongholds and Nine Territories, Zhang Dachui, seizing a chance while “King Chuang” was away, led his men for a raid. Now, he felt his face burning—luckily, he and his men were used to it.

“Damn it, time to bug out!” Zhang Dachui glared at the wounded being carried off, barking the retreat in his fiercest tone.

Scarface froze, then urged, “Boss, we’re just leaving? How do we face the boys?”

Zhang Dachui’s face flickered—Luo Er’s right. A boss needs to act like one.

Losing face was minor; failing to get loot would truly hurt morale.

But the slope’s defenses were tight, the pullers ready to fight to the death, and city reinforcements were nearing.

To take it quickly, he’d need to lead his elite in a hard charge.

But that would mean heavy losses—maybe even his own injury. Then, “King Chuang’s” she-devil would find out.

She ran a tight ship, preaching “land for all, no taxes.” If she learned he’d snuck out to raid the ore route, she’d skin him alive!

The thought of her methods sent a shiver through Zhang Dachui.

“Ma Liu promised me a thousand silver dollars if we acted. I’ll split it with the boys!” Zhang Dachui’s voice was weak, his heart bleeding.

Scarface blinked, then trembled with rage—Damn it, Ma Liu offered me only five hundred but gave Boss a thousand?

Triangular Eyes, sensing trouble, sidled up, grinning. “Boss is generous! But we lost men today—we need to have a word with Ma Liu!”

Zhang Dachui fumed, “That damn Ma Liu tricked us, saying he’d arranged insiders, that the refugees would scatter the convoy, and we’d just pick up the pieces.”

“Where’re the refugees? Where’s the insider? That bastard Ma Liu, damn his ancestors!”

Suddenly, Zhang Dachui’s words stopped, his eyes narrowing—

In the swirling dust, a scrawny figure waved a blood-red triangular flag, rushing down a secluded path.

With sharp eyes, Zhang Dachui saw clearly—a monkey-like man, face wild with joy, shouting something.

“Luo Er, your eyes and ears are sharp—what’s he saying? What’s he holding?”

Scarface listened intently, then frowned. “Sounds like he’s saying there’s a path to get up?”

But seeing the flag, he gasped, “Boss, that guy’s got our flag!”

Zhang Dachui’s mouth twisted in fury—You bastard, we hid our tracks, and you wave our flag openly?

Exposing our identity?

Damn it, this is Ma Liu’s insider?

“Luo Er, handle it,” Zhang Dachui said coldly.

“This is it, no mistake! No defenses here!”

Skinny Monkey raced down the steep path, face flushed with excitement, waving the red flag like a rattle.

Fat Fan said the bandits would recognize it!

With this flag, he’d gain their trust, lead them up the slope, and seize the five-colored ore—that was the big deed.

His heart thrummed with thrill!

Doing this alone, without Jin Fugui, sparked an odd excitement.

And forty-plus carts of ore—Fat Fan said he and Jin Fugui could split two!

Two carts? My god—at least a thousand silver dollars!

He’d be generous, give Jin Fugui a bigger share.

After all, Jin Fugui had a sick daughter—sweet girl, but cursed with consumption.

Panting, Skinny Monkey saw a burly scar-faced man ride out from the bandits.

His face split into a grin—This must be my contact!

Brother Jin, watch me pull this off!

Then, a chill hit his chest. He reached down instinctively—

His hand was soaked in blood.

An arrow had pierced his chest, snuffing out his life.

Skinny Monkey’s smile froze forever.

He collapsed into the dust with a thud.

Luo Er stowed his bow, spurred his horse, and deftly snatched the fallen flag.

“Idiot… nearly ruined our plan!”

Spitting on the body, Luo Er galloped off without a glance.