Transmigrated into a farmer's lucky charm, all the villains in the family panicked.

Wu Daniu, clutching his machete, led a group of people crouching low as they crept towards Ganjiacun.

Just as I stepped across the dried-up ditch, I suddenly realized something was wrong.

A cluster of torches lit up in the direction of Ganjiacun Village across the street.

Then, as if someone had given an order, the second, third, and tenth clusters of torches appeared one after another, like a fiery dragon, stretching along the earthen slope at the village entrance. The firelight illuminated half the sky in an orange-red hue.

Behind the torches, a large crowd of people thronged, their shadows flickering indistinctly, making it impossible to count how many there were.

Moreover, the terrain of Ganjiacun was much higher than theirs, and that silent sense of oppression made everyone want to back down.

Wu Daniu's Adam's apple bobbed up and down, and he involuntarily stopped in his tracks.

Not only him, but the entire team seemed frozen in place, with no one daring to take another step forward.

"Brother Da Niu," someone whispered from behind, their voice trembling, "why are there so many of them? Why aren't they sleeping in the middle of the night? Did they know we were coming?"

As soon as he said that, someone in the group immediately chimed in.

"That's right... This setup doesn't look like it was unprepared at all. Look how neatly those torches are arranged."

Wu Daniu gritted his teeth and remained silent.

He was caught in a dilemma. Go for it? Their stance clearly showed they weren't afraid of him.

He was unwilling to give up.

Little did he know that this torch array was an idea Yun Huaikang had just come up with after thinking about it for half the night.

He urgently discussed it with the village chief, who thought it was a good idea.

Not only did the men in the village carry torches, but all the women in the village also came out.

Led by Gan Yuwan's mother, a group of aunts, older women, and young wives lined up, each holding a torch, and stood in the brightest spot, casting their shadows high so that they all looked like strong men.

Thirteen- or fourteen-year-old boys were also brought along, carrying shoulder poles and standing behind the adults, looking densely packed from a distance.

In the dead of night, in complete darkness, no one could tell whether the people on the other side were men or women. All that was known was that there were many people, too many to count, and they were all carrying weapons.

The formation was large enough to look like a massive army.

The village chief and the others thought that they should avoid fighting if possible, since fighting could result in death. Every child is raised by their parents; if one is injured, the whole family is ruined.

Seeing the scene at Ganjiacun, Wu Daniu's people became increasingly uneasy.

People in the group started to shrink back. First, they sneaked back half a step, then they moved their whole foot back, and then some people simply retreated to the edge of the woods, and then took another step back and disappeared into the bushes.

Someone whispered to the person next to them, "They've already eaten their fill, while we're just full of wild vegetable soup. How are we supposed to fight them?"

"That's right... my legs are so weak, I only drank half a bowl of thin porridge last night."

"Besides, judging from their posture, they must have been prepared all along. They might be waiting for us to walk right into their trap."

Morale in the military can crumble in an instant.

Before Wu Daniu could say anything harsh to calm things down, he saw that the people from other villages who had come along had already left.

A few of them, who were running so fast, tripped on tree roots and fell flat on their faces. They got up and kept running without even bothering to brush the dirt off themselves.

As Wu Daniu watched the figures behind him dwindle, he gritted his teeth, tucked the machete into his waistband, and forced out two words through gritted teeth: "Retreat—retreat!"

In fact, they had attacked more than one village along the way.

In those villages before, there wasn't even anyone to keep watch at night. Even if the chicken coops were kicked over, the dogs wouldn't dare bark. After the looting was over, it wasn't even dawn yet. By the time the government officials arrived, they had already disappeared back into the woods.

Unless they're caught red-handed, no one can do anything about them. But this time is different; the village's security is so good that it makes one suspect they received advance warning.

If a direct confrontation breaks out, and the villagers manage to catch him red-handed, all those old grievances will be brought up, and he'll lose his head.

This deal isn't worth it.

Wu Daniu led his men away into the distance like the receding tide.

Only after the mass of dark heads disappeared did the village chief slam the carrying pole he was gripping so tightly that it was burning hot onto the ground, throw his head back, and burst into laughter.

That laugh seemed to have turned on a switch, and the entire village entrance instantly erupted in cheers, stomping, and clapping.

Some people held torches high above their heads and shook them vigorously, while others hugged their brothers and jumped around.

One woman was so excited that she threw her rolling pin into the air.

In the dead of night, the area around Ganjiacun was bustling with noise, even more lively than during the Spring Festival.

When the commotion reached Wu Daniu's side, it startled his troops again, causing them to retreat even faster.

Now, the village has been completely saved.

But the village chief and his men still dared not let their guard down.

After a burst of cheers, he pressed his hand down: "Alright, alright, don't get too excited! They're not far off yet! Listen to me, split everyone into two groups. One group goes back to get some sleep, the other continues guarding. Nobody slacking off, we're not done until dawn!"

His arrangement made sense. There was still more than an hour until dawn, and as soon as it got light, people from all around would flock here.

With the temple fair starting, there's something to do all over the village, and there's no time to waste.

No one objected, and everyone spontaneously began making arrangements...

The next morning, just as dawn was breaking, Ganjiacun came back to life.

The lively atmosphere of the temple fair was a completely different world from the tension of last night.

Every road leading to the village was teeming with people: peddlers carrying loads, vendors driving donkey carts, villagers with children and their families, and wealthy people who had come all the way from the county town by oxcart to offer incense.

The sounds of hawking, laughter, and bargaining mingled together, completely washing away the somber atmosphere of the previous night.

The temple in Ganjiacun is dedicated to a goddess. The statues inside are draped in red silk, and the altar is filled with incense, offerings of fruit and snacks.

There is a poignant legend about this temple – it is said that a hundred years ago, a woman who married into the village from afar died in the war. She protected the village alone, healing the wounded and sick, and helping the orphans and widows. In the end, she transformed into a guardian deity.

Every year on August 28th, which is her birthday, the village holds a temple fair.

People prayed for wealth, children, promotions, or academic success, lining up to kowtow before the statue of the goddess. The incense burned so brightly that it gave the temple pillars a patina.

The festivities lasted all day, and at night, a stage was set up in the temple for opera performances.

However, Yun Huaikang and his wife didn't have time to look around. After learning from the village chief that the group of refugees had gone very far and would definitely not be able to return, they decided to go back to the county town. They were worried about their family after being away for so long.

The village chief and his companions thanked them profusely and escorted the two to the village entrance.

Just like when they came, Yun Huaikang and Gan Yuwan brought nothing with them. They were on an old oxcart, and they felt much lighter, as if a burden had been lifted off their shoulders.

The oxcart clattered along the country road. After an hour's journey, as darkness fell, they finally returned to the street near the pastry shop.

As soon as he got closer, he saw a man wearing a short-sleeved shirt with his collar open standing in front of his shop, shouting and cursing.

"What a piece of junk! It's not just hard to chew, there are eggshell bits in it! Look at this—look at this…"