I traveled back to the Southern Song Dynasty and was actually outmaneuvered by Yue Fei.

May 7th, Zhenjiang.

The reed marshes at the foot of Jiaoshan Mountain were shrouded in mist, and the first river fog after the Dragon Boat Festival this year was thicker than in previous years.

The mist rolled along the river surface, completely enveloping the reeds; beyond three zhang (approximately 10 meters), only the sound of water could be heard, and no one could be seen.

Li Bao stood at the bow of the boat, holding the seventh intelligence report sent by Qin Keqing from Lin'an.

He didn't need to read the writing on the wax paper; he was illiterate. But he recognized the code words that Jinbao used when translating.

The last line of the code contained only four characters: "Three days after the Dragon Boat Festival".

His understanding of these four words was: If we don't fight before the eighth day of the fifth lunar month, we will perish.

"Call the brothers onto the boat." Li Bao crumpled up the wax paper and scattered it into the river. "We'll have extra training today."

He didn't actually need to practice any more. These brothers had been waiting for over a year; their bowstrings were practically worn out.

But what Li Bao wanted was not a desperate attack; he was not waiting for how long he could live, but for the order from the Prince of Puan.

Thirty-seven people, including porters at Zhenjiang Wharf, hunters at the foot of Jiaoshan Mountain, and boatmen at Guazhou Ferry, boarded the three cargo ships within half an hour.

They did not wear military uniforms or waist badges; their weapons were hidden in tung oil-coated cloth and pressed into the ship's hold in batches.

But everyone had a red rope tied around their waist, a tradition of the Yue family's navy.

The red rope had faded and looked as old as dried blood, but no one untied it.

Meanwhile, in the signing room of the Zhenjiang Prefectural Government, Zheng Gangzhong, the Privy Council Naval Commander, was sitting at the head of the table.

Eight naval captains stood before him, each holding a signed military order in their arms.

The military order was stamped with the vermilion seal of the Privy Council, and the heading read "Order to Prohibit the Dispatch of Private Boats in Huainan East Road".

But everyone knew that these eight warships were not there to investigate smuggling.

"Gentlemen," Zheng Gangzhong said, touching the insignia on his official robe, "the Privy Council has received a report that a group of people are gathered on private boats in the waters around Jiaoshan in Zhenjiang, suspected to be the work of Yue Fei's remnants."

The authorities have ordered a thorough investigation into this case.

The eight warships split into two groups to encircle the enemy. The main force entered from the west via the Jiaoshan Channel, while the left flank advanced along the Guazhou Ferry on the south bank.

This operation must not be reported to local officials in Zhenjiang in advance, must not be posted, and must not disturb dock vendors.

The ship will depart at dawn tomorrow and arrive at its destination at morning. Anyone who resists arrest will be treated as a rebel.

The eight constables responded in unison, clasped their hands in greeting, and withdrew.

Zheng Gangzhong sat alone in the signing room for a long time. On the table in front of him lay a letter, the envelope stamped with Qin Hui's private seal.

The letter contained only two sentences: "After the Zhenjiang matter is concluded, return to the capital to report on your duties. The remaining embers of Yue Fei's faction must be thoroughly wiped out."

Zheng Gangzhong folded the letter and put it into his sleeve.

He didn't notice that outside the Zhenjiang Prefectural Government's office, a yamen runner serving tea and water wrung out the rag under the tea tray as he left.

Hidden in the cloth was a tiny charcoal stick, the color of which was almost identical to the black lacquer on the bottom of the tea tray.

When the yamen runners entered the stable, they stuffed charcoal sticks into the trough. This was a spot Jinbao had deliberately left when he last came to Zhenjiang to drop off a dead letter, and its location was exactly symmetrical to the one in the stable at Lin'an Post Station.

The eighth day of the fifth lunar month, at the hour of Mao (5-7 AM).

The faint sound of war drums could be heard coming from the direction of Jiaoshan. These were not the drumbeats of a dragon boat race, but rather the signal drums used by warships to communicate commands as they moved.

Eight warships cut in from the western channel in a goose-like formation, with the Privy Council Navy flag flying on their masts. The bows were filled with fully armed soldiers, the tips of their spears covered in a layer of water vapor from the river mist.

Li Bao stood at the bow of the first cargo ship, holding a waist knife in his hand, the scabbard already removed.

He watched the approaching ship silhouette in the fog, then glanced back at his brothers behind him.

Thirty-seven people, three thousand naval troops, two generations.

Some of them had fought alongside Yue Fei in the Yue Family Army's naval stronghold, guarding the Han River. Others were boatmen recruited in Shaoxing around ten years ago. Their faces were roughened by the river wind, but the light in their eyes was deeper than the war drums in the river mist.

"Brothers," Li Bao's voice was not loud, "when Commander Yue passed away, we didn't have time to see him off on his final journey. Today, we are fighting this battle in Zhenjiang in his place."

No one spoke; everyone gripped their knives tighter.

Then, another horn sounded on the port side of the foremost cargo ship.

It wasn't the horn of the Privy Council's warship, but another horn—more powerful and longer, as if it pierced through the entire body of water from the other side of the river mist.

Li Bao turned his head.

Another fleet emerged from the river mist—not three cargo ships, but a full eleven warships.

A woman in silver armor stood at the bow of the ship, her back straight as a spear shaft, a long wooden spear planted on the deck.

Behind her stood hundreds of veterans who had rushed from Xiangyang overnight, each with four almost worn-out characters engraved on their armor: "Serve the country with utmost loyalty."

Yue Yinping.

She brought four hundred veterans from Xiangyang. These four hundred men were supposed to lie in wait in Xiangyang, but after receiving intelligence from Zhao Bozong and a letter from Li Bao requesting reinforcements, they...

Yue Yinping made a decision that no one dared to make—leading her team south, traveling day and night, to meet up with Li Bao on the river at Jiaoshan in Zhenjiang.

"Uncle Li," Yue Yinping said, standing at the bow of the boat, cupping her hands in a respectful greeting to Li Bao across the river mist, "We're not too late, are we?"

Li Bao looked at the woman in full armor, and his eyes suddenly felt a little sore.

She looks a lot like Yue Fei, with similar eyebrows and eyes, and the same imposing manner when she speaks. The only difference is the curve of her mouth when she smiles, which resembles her mother's.

Li Bao remembered that Madam Yue was an extremely gentle woman, but at this moment, there was no gentleness in her smile, only the cold glint of a blade before it was drawn.

"It's not too late." Li Bao raised his knife. "General Yue is watching from heaven."

The two naval forces merged in the Jiaoshan waters, their bows simultaneously turning westward to face the eight Privy Council warships that were approaching.

Then the third bugle call sounded.

The bugle call was shorter and sharper.

Then, horn sounds rang out one after another on both the north and south banks of Jiaoshan Mountain, growing louder and louder, as if someone had cast an invisible net across the waters, and now that net was being tightened simultaneously.

Zheng Gangzhong stood on the deck of the lead warship, his face deathly pale.

He saw the convergence of three forces: Li Bao's three cargo ships, Yue Yinping's eleven warships, and countless small boats that suddenly emerged from the reeds on both sides of Jiaoshan Mountain.

Those small boats were converted from fishing boats. They were narrow and had a very shallow draft. Only two or three people stood on each boat, holding bows and crossbows or long hooks.

The small boat emerged almost silently from the depths of the reeds, skimming the surface of the river like a mayfly, and in the blink of an eye, it completely surrounded the two flanks of the Privy Council's warship.

Zheng Gangzhong turned sharply and roared at the flag bearer on the mast, "Send the order! Left flank retreat! The entire army returns!"

But he stopped abruptly as soon as he shouted it out.

From the depths of the river fog coming from a certain direction north of the river, the outlines of a group of merchant ship masts faintly appeared.

That was after the porters at Lin'an Wharf sent a warning to Zhenjiang, Li Bao contacted the civilian armed forces in Jiangbei Road in advance.

Many of these armed forces were former members of the rebel army who intercepted supplies from the puppet Qi regime. After scattering into Jiangzuo, they made a living by fishing and short-distance trading. At this moment, they all received an urgent message from Zhenjiang and rushed to block the waterway outside Jiaoshan in their merchant ships.

On the Jiaoshan River, the sounds of drums, horns, and shouts of battle blended together.

Li Bao drew his knife and jumped into the shallows. The blade sliced ​​across the water, splashing up a string of white foam.

He turned back and shouted to his men on his boat, "It's time to raise Yue Fei's flag today!"

An old flag, soaked by the river, slowly rose from the mast of the second cargo ship.

The flag was old, with some tears along the edges, and its color had faded to white by the passage of time and the river water.

But the four characters on the flag—"Serve the country with utmost loyalty"—still gleam like a knife in everyone's eyes when they unfurl in the river wind.

Yue Yinping drew her plain wooden spear.

"Yue Family Army!"

Her voice rang out across the river, and at the same time, the small boats in the reeds made the sound of bowstrings being pulled taut.

Zheng Gangzhong stood motionless on the deck, his face ashen, his fingers trembling uncontrollably.

He heard the female general's voice suddenly lower, so low that only the archers on both sides of the ship could hear it, yet it pierced to the bone more than any of the previous horns—

"Kill in place of Commander Yue."