It took Li Dao Xuan quite some time to understand why the sentry had panicked so badly, and why San Shier had immediately ordered every villager to grab whatever weapons they could find and rush onto the walls as if their lives depended on it.
Which, to be fair, they absolutely did.
What the sentry had seen was not something that allowed for calm thinking.
A chaotic mass of people was fleeing across the yellow sand, dragging children along, crying for parents who might already be dead, shouting in terror as they ran without any sense of direction except forward.
Behind them surged a group of bandits, blades flashing as they chased with frightening enthusiasm, cutting people down as casually as farmers harvesting weeds.
Every so often, someone would stumble or lose strength. The moment they fell behind, a bandit would catch up and bring a blade down without hesitation, sending blood spraying across the sand in a way that would have made even hardened soldiers uneasy.
The people in front, seeing this, ran even faster, their fear pushing their bodies beyond their limits.
The bandits behind, already soaked in blood, only grew more excited. Their sanity slipped further with every strike as they hacked and laughed at the same time, like men who had completely abandoned the idea of being human.
Anyone who saw such a scene and remained calm was either a saint or already dead inside.
If the villagers of the Gao Village Family had not been protected by solid walls, and if Dao Xuan Tianzun had not been hovering above them as an unseen pillar of confidence, quite a few of them would have already collapsed on the spot or started planning their own escape instead of standing here pretending to be defenders of anything.
"Get on the walls, hurry, everyone on the walls," someone shouted, his voice cracking from nerves.
"I have a bow, I picked it up from those bandits last time."
"I only have a rusty blade."
"Bring it anyway, even a bamboo pole is better than empty hands."
The villagers scrambled upward in a disorderly wave, each clutching whatever could pass for a weapon, creating a scene that was both desperate and, in a strangely Jianghu way, almost heroic if one ignored the overwhelming chance of death.
Inside the blacksmith's shed, Li Da and Gao Yiyi managed to dig out two sets of liangdang armor from a dusty corner, as if the heavens themselves had decided to give them a bit of face.
They hurriedly put them on and grabbed heavy iron hammers, instantly becoming the best-equipped fighters in the entire Gao Village Family.
Which was not saying much.
But it was enough.
The two men were already strong, and now with armor on their bodies and hammers in their hands, they stood on the wall like crude but reliable pillars, giving the weaker villagers something to cluster around.
Because in moments like this, people tended to believe that standing near someone who looked tough might increase their own chances of survival, even if logic suggested otherwise.
Not far from them stood two more imposing figures, Gao Chuwu and Zheng Daniu, both tall and broad, each holding an axe with the kind of grip that suggested they were more than willing to use it.
Before long, dozens of villagers had gathered around them as well, forming loose groups that looked like they might hold for at least a few breaths longer than complete chaos.
Just as these makeshift defensive positions took shape, the fleeing group finally entered Li Dao Xuan's field of vision.
The ones at the front were clearly not ordinary peasants.
They moved with some organization and even had a horse-drawn carriage, which already placed them several levels above the average person in this miserable world.
Unfortunately, without proper roads, the carriage bounced so violently that it barely held together, making it only slightly faster than those running on foot.
The carriage reached the gate first.
The man driving it was not a servant but a middle-aged man in a blue long robe, the kind of person who looked like he had spent more time reading books than handling reins.
Yet here he was, doing both at once while shouting upward.
"May I ask what place this is? Please open the gate and let us in to take shelter. There are bandits behind us killing people, this situation is—"
Before he could finish, San Shier suddenly leaned forward and shouted,
"Eh, is that Mister Bai?"
The man looked up and blinked in disbelief.
"Ah, Third Master Shan. Have I reached Cheng County already? That cannot be right, it should still be some distance away."
"Open the gate. Let Mister Bai and his family in," San Shier said without hesitation.
The villagers quickly turned the wooden winch. The crude mechanism creaked as it pulled the rope, dragging the heavy gate open inch by inch.
Mister Bai flicked the reins with more determination than skill, urging the horse forward as the carriage lurched into the village like a drunk man who had finally found his way home.
"Should we close the gate now?" one of the villagers shouted, his hands already on the mechanism.
San Shier glanced outside.
And in that brief moment, the weight of responsibility pressed down on him so heavily that even breathing felt difficult.
Because of the carriage, Mister Bai's group had managed to pull ahead.
Letting them in and closing the gate immediately was easy.
Safe.
The problem lay with the people behind.
Those fleeing on foot were almost within arm's reach of the pursuing bandits.
If the gate remained open, more lives could be saved.
If the gate remained open, the bandits might also rush in.
The distance between the two sides was so small that the difference between salvation and disaster might be nothing more than a single breath.
Sweat began to pour down San Shier's back.
Close the gate and protect his own people?
Or keep it open and risk everything for strangers?
He was not a general.
Not a seasoned commander.
And this was not a situation where scholarly reasoning could provide a neat answer.
His mind was a mess.
Fortunately, Li Dao Xuan had no intention of letting him make that decision.
Human nature, after all, was a fragile thing.
Testing it too harshly often led to results that no one liked.
Since he had the ability to resolve the situation himself, there was no need to turn this into a moral trial.
He puffed out his cheeks and blew toward the yellow sand outside the village.
A casual breath.
Carrying the weight of a god.
In an instant, a fierce gust rose, sending sand swirling into the air and forming a thick curtain that engulfed both the fleeing crowd and the pursuing bandits.
For the bandits, who needed to see their targets to continue their slaughter, this was like being suddenly blinded.
For the people running for their lives, it made little difference.
All they needed to do was keep moving forward.
Within a dozen seconds, the fleeing group burst out of the sandstorm, creating a clear gap between themselves and the bandits.
Once that distance existed, the situation became much easier to manage.
Li Dao Xuan raised his hand.
He could end the bandits at any moment.
But after a brief pause, he lowered it again.
There was no need to rush.
If he solved every problem for them, the villagers would never learn how to deal with danger on their own.
A strong wall without capable defenders was nothing more than a slightly taller grave.
With that thought, he settled into what he jokingly called Dao Xuan Tianzun's cold observer mode.
And watched.
With the sandstorm buying them precious time, San Shier no longer had to wrestle with an impossible choice.
"Let everyone in first, then close the gate!"
He had barely finished speaking when Mister Bai, who had just entered the village, rushed up onto the wall without hesitation, as if he had always belonged there.
"If you have bows, shoot a few arrows at the bandits to drive them back!"
It was almost amusing.
An outsider had arrived and immediately started commanding the defense.
But no one objected.
In moments like this, authority belonged to whoever sounded the most confident.
The villagers raised the bows taken from previous bandits and fired outward.
The arrows flew in a scattered, unconvincing manner.
Not a single one hit.
Which was almost impressive.
Even so, it was enough.
The bandits halted several dozen meters away, staring at the wall and muttering among themselves.
Their enthusiasm had clearly cooled.
Taking advantage of the hesitation, the fleeing people rushed through the gate in a chaotic wave.
The villagers turned the winch again.
Others pushed from the side.
With a heavy, reassuring thud, the gate slammed shut.
Only then did Mister Bai finally breathe.
"Fortunately, I did not neglect the Six Arts of a Gentleman, especially the art of driving. Otherwise, I would never have made it here alive."
He paused, then added,
"And fortunately you were here as well."
San Shier, still shaken, turned to him.
"Mister Bai… what exactly happened?"
Mister Bai let out a long sigh.
"Bai Family Fort has fallen."
San Shier froze.
That was no small place.
Yet now it was gone.
Mister Bai pointed toward the bandits outside the wall, his expression bitter.
"These few dozen are only a small group."
"Behind them are hundreds… perhaps thousands."
"My Bai Family Fort could not hold for even two hours before it was breached."
"The militia is gone."
"The guards have suffered heavy losses."
"Only this handful of people escaped with me."
His voice grew quieter with every word.
As if even speaking of it required more strength than he had left.