Mr. Zhao was not just talking nonsense. Having grown up in Xizhou, he was all too familiar with the uniforms and banners of the Xizhou soldiers.
Although the group was still some distance away, he was already certain: they were the Xizhou garrison!
Unlike the common folk, whose faces lit up with excitement as if they'd been given a new lease on life, the bandits' expressions instantly grew tense and panicked. The bandit who had just approached Shen Qing let out a low growl. "Why is the Xizhou garrison suddenly here?!"
He paused, his jaw tightening, then roared with extreme reluctance, "All men, on my command, retreat immediately!"
After speaking, his eyes, glinting with malice, suddenly fixed on Shen Qing. He yanked his reins, charging straight for her. Mr. Zhao screamed; if he hadn't dodged in time, he feared he would have been trampled to death under those reckless hooves.
The bandit's target was clear: he was coming for Shen Qing.
