Mo Zhengxing was unaware of the situation on Wu Shuangren's side.
He couldn't help but consider all the worst-case scenarios: What if Wu Shuangren failed to intercept the people from Mist Hidden Temple? What if Wu Shuangren couldn't defeat the First Rate experts sent by Mist Hidden Temple? What if the militia suffered heavy casualties...?
Every possible "what if" filled him with anxiety.
"Manager Mo."
Footsteps sounded behind me, and a captain stepped across the threshold. "The Flying Feather Gang has sent word that their men are ready."
Mo Zhengxing turned around, his face now composed, showing no trace of unease.
He said in a deep voice, "Proceed according to plan!"
Stepping out of the council hall, on the drill ground, the militia of seven battalions were already lined up. Most of these people were new recruits who had only undergone a few days of training, and their ranks did not look very neat.
"Set off!"
Mo Zhengxing didn't say much, only uttering two words.
Seven battalions, totaling seven hundred men, filed out of the Fist Village gate. At the same time, the remaining four hundred-plus members of the Flying Feather Gang set off from another location.
The two groups met on the long street and marched in a mighty force toward the Zhang Clan's encampment!
The Zhang Clan's residence was located on the south side of West River Market, a bustling commercial district.
The Zhang Clan owns more than a dozen shops, two warehouses, and more than a dozen houses here. The militia stationed here are one hundred members of the Zhang Clan family's local militia, led by Zhang He's younger brother, Zhang Song.
Zhang Song is in his early thirties and is short and stocky. He was sitting on a stone bench in the front yard, eating a watermelon, the juice dripping down his chin and onto his clothes.
A militiaman stumbled in, his face ashen. "Sir, something terrible has happened! The Fist Academy and the Flying Feather Gang are coming this way!"
Zhang Song's expression changed, and he immediately threw down the watermelon rind. "How many people came?"
"There are so many, I can't even count them all!"
Zhang Song grabbed the iron spear beside him and rushed out, ordering all the militia to assemble.
A moment later.
At the end of the long street, a dense crowd was surging towards them. In the front row were militiamen holding shields, and behind them were rows of spears.
No need for a perfectly orderly line; the sheer number of heads and the thunderous footsteps alone are enough to send chills down your spine!
Standing on the second-floor attic, Zhang Song had a clearer view than the others.
People with weapons rushed in from all directions, and the Zhang Clan's stronghold was completely surrounded.
The Fist Academy and the Flying Feather Gang have probably come out in full force!
"Damn it..."
Zhang Song swallowed hard, his face turning deathly pale. "How are we supposed to fight this?"
Mo Zhengxing his horse at the back of the group, looking at the Zhang Clan's encampment ahead, his palms sweating profusely.
He knew that his militia was just for show; if the Zhang Clan's militia had any real skills and launched a counterattack, his side would probably be blown up!
Mo Zhengxing a deep breath, and when he spoke, his voice was unusually calm:
"Pass down the order: send out a message."
Several guards from the Mo Family stood in the front row, channeling their Internal Skill and shouting in unison:
"The Zhang Clan colluded with bandits, plotting to harm the people of West River Market! Today, the Fist Academy and the Flying Feather Gang on behalf of Heaven, punishing only the ringleaders; those who surrender will be spared!"
After the guards finished shouting, the remaining militiamen, as instructed beforehand, all shouted in unison:
Surrender and you will not be killed!
Immediately afterwards, the militiamen from other directions and members of the Flying Feather Gang also shouted in unison:
"Surrender and you will not be killed."
The sound came from all directions!
The fighting spirit of the Zhang Clan militia began to crumble...
These people had never seen such a sight before.
Fighting ten against one sounds heroic, but how many people would actually have the courage to continue fighting when facing an enemy ten times their size?
Mo Zhengxing's prediction was actually correct. If the Zhang Clan's militia had actually managed to form a battle formation and charge once, they might have been the ones to win.
But they didn't have that kind of courage.
There wasn't a single leader who dared to take the lead and charge into battle.
Zhang Song was completely desperate and collapsed to the ground, with no intention of organizing the militia to resist.
With their leader acting this way, the militiamen below gradually fell into disarray.
Someone was the first to throw down the knife, someone else turned and found a place to hide, then a second, a third...
When the militia from the Fist Academy and the members of the Flying Feather Gang stormed into the Zhang Clan's territory, they encountered little to no resistance.
They easily took control of the area, killing the few who resisted, disarming the surrendered militia, and capturing Zhang Song and several Zhang Clan, imprisoning them all.
Mo Zhengxing finally relaxed and led his men to take inventory of the valuables and storerooms, starting to do what he did best.
West River County.
The Zhang Clan's residence was captured in the morning, but the news didn't reach them until the afternoon.
The militia's training camp outside the county town.
Zhang He was practicing archery on the training ground when his subordinate ran over and told him about the situation at West River Market.
Zhang He loosened the bowstring, and the arrow missed the target, embedding itself in the earthen wall behind him.
"What did you say?!"
Zhang He grabbed his subordinate by the collar, his eyes almost popping out of their sockets.
The subordinate repeated the message in a trembling voice— the Fist Academy and the Flying Feather Gang had joined forces, and thousands of people had surrounded the stronghold. All the militiamen stationed by the Zhang Clan family in West River Market had been captured, and the stronghold had been taken into control.
Zhang He's face turned ashen.
"Flying Feather Gang..."
He practically spat out those words through gritted teeth, "Luo Heng, that damned fool!"
He pushed his subordinate aside, turned around, and slammed his palm into a wooden stake next to him, which cracked instantly.
The Zhang Clan's militia only had a little over five hundred men in total. With a hundred men gone, Zhang He's heart was bleeding!
He originally thought that with the Flying Feather Gang and the Zhang Clan watching over and helping each other in West River Market, even if the Fist Academy wanted to take action, they wouldn't be able to swallow up both forces in one go, and it would be enough to hold out until he arrived with reinforcements.
Unexpectedly, the Flying Feather Gang chose to side with the Fist Academy?
Has Luo Heng lost his mind? Does he really believe the Fist Academy can defeat the Mist Hidden Temple?!
Zhang He, after all, was a regimental commander who had led a group of hundreds of people for many years. Despite his anger, he still retained a sliver of rationality.
"Close the gates, distribute all the leather armor and weapons from the storeroom, and everyone stay on high alert!"
"Send more men to West River Market to gather information."
"Prepare the horses, I'm going back to the county town."
Several orders were issued in succession.
Soon, Zhang He led a group of people back to the county town on horseback.
That night, the Zhang residence was brightly lit.
After discussing the matter with the key members of Zhang He's family, they did not immediately lead the remaining militia to West River Market.
The Zhang Clan is waiting for news from Mist Hidden Temple.
As soon as the elite troops of Mist Hidden Temple arrive, Zhang He will immediately lead his men back to West River Market and wipe out the Fist Academy and the Flying Feather Gang!
Three days later, the news arrived.
"Impossible!"
"Absolutely impossible!"
Zhang He grabbed the scout's shoulder, "Kongzheng is the number one expert in Yi Province, how could he lose to a mere brat?!"
The scout trembled and said in a trembling voice:
"I... encountered several fleeing monks... and they all said the same thing, that Master Kongzheng was killed by Wu Shuangren..."
Zhang He was struck by lightning!
"Those monks also said... their group of several hundred was scattered, suffering heavy casualties..."
"This time, Mist Hidden Temple also sent a cavalry force of over a hundred riders, but the force was also scattered..."
Zhang He closed his eyes in pain, veins bulging on his forehead.
He suddenly recalled the scene on the arena that day when Wu Shuangren defeated several leaders of the West River Gang in succession.
At that time, he felt that this young man was indeed extraordinary, but he did not believe that the other party could really "change the world" in West River Market.
But now...
"Mist Hidden Temple... Number one in Yi Province... Hahahaha—"
Zhang Tuanzong's painful laughter came from inside the room.
At sunset.
Wu Shuangren, mounted on his horse, looked at the huge rock by the roadside with the three large characters ' West River Market ' written on it.
When he first came to West River Market, he also stopped here for a while.
The line behind them stretched out in a long queue; the militiamen were exhausted, but their ranks remained orderly.
Let's go.
Wu Shuangren gave a shout and took the lead, heading towards the road leading to the market.
This day.
The true owner of West River Market returned to his territory.
P. S.: This chapter is over 4,000 words. From now on, I'll update twice a day, once at noon and once at 8 PM.
100 Traits changed color, and Fei Yu stood in the hall.
Inside the council chamber of the walled city, the lights were on.
Wu Shuangren sat in the main seat, listening to Mo Zhengxing's report.
"The Zhang Clan owns eleven shops, two warehouses, and fifteen houses in West River Market, which they have all acquired. The inventory in the shops and warehouses shows approximately 150 shi of grain and 200 bundles of cloth..."
Mo Zhengxing held an account book in his hand. "The Zhang Clan didn't leave much cash in West River Market, only a little over one hundred taels of loose silver, a little over three hundred strings of cash, and some paper money, totaling six hundred and twenty-seven strings of cash."
"If all the goods are sold, we can probably earn nearly a thousand strings of cash more."
The Zhang Clan's main base was in West River County, so all the money they had earned over the years had been transferred to the county seat, leaving not much money behind in West River Market.
Wu Shuangren picked up his teacup and took a sip. "Store all the grain in the warehouse, no need to sell it. Keep some of the cloth for our own use; give the weapons, leather armor, and the like to our people. You can decide what to do with the rest of the goods."
Mo Zhengxing handed over the ledger. "I understand. This time, we also captured one hundred militiamen from the Zhang Clan and Zhang He's younger brother, Zhang Song."
Wu Shuangren took the ledger. "These people are being held together with the martial monks I brought back this time. Have someone keep a close watch on them and deal with them later."
Mo Zhengxing nodded in agreement. "We've taken down the Zhang Clan, subdued the Flying Feather Gang, and you, the leader, led the team to defeat the people from the Mist Hidden Temple. The entire West River Market can practically be considered our territory now. I just wonder if the Mist Hidden Temple will send anyone else..."
His new worries began.
Wu Shuangren looked at him and suddenly smiled, "Third Master, we've returned victorious, can't we celebrate a little?"
Mo Zhengxing was stunned, then a smile appeared on his face, "The leader defeated Kongzheng and severely damaged Mist Hidden Temple, of course you should be happy, but..."