Leaving the waterfall, Bai Yu waved his folding fan and walked unhurriedly down the mountain.
His two subordinates followed behind him.
Bai Yu suddenly smiled and said softly, "You overestimate yourselves."
Just then, two men sprang down from the treetops on either side.
Wielding machetes, they hemmed Bai Yu in, one on the left and one on the right.
Without a word, they swung their blades.
A blade came down, and a scream rang out.
But it was the other burly man whose arm had been chopped off.
Moments later, both men lay in pools of blood.
Bai Yu gently waved his folding fan, his white robes spattered with blood.
"Which stockade did these vermin crawl out of this time?"
Bai Yu spoke with distaste.
"Filthy!"
With that, he crushed one man's head underfoot and went down the mountain, cursing.
His two subordinates behind him were ruthless men themselves, but even they could not bear to watch that scene.
They followed the second chief and hurried away.
"Dozens of people have been killed in Shangyao Stockade. The Black Cavalry Gang has also sent word that if they can't scrape together enough within three days, they'll slaughter the stockade!"
Seated in the stockade's ancestral hall were its respected elders.
At that moment, every face was clouded with worry.
The overturned cart ahead was a lesson for the cart behind.
Besides, Shangyao Stockade was not very far from their own.
It was only a little over four hours away on horseback.
The old stockade chief held a pipe more than two feet long in one hand and a firebrand in the other.
He puffed away at his pipe and sighed twice.
"Our stockade barely has any grain this year as it is. Feeding everyone is already a problem. What do we