Border Soldier: My fiancée snatched credit and broke off the engagement, so I promptly became a marq

Bailang Pass has three main streets.

West Street leads to the horse warehouse, East Street leads to the granary, and the middle stone street leads directly to the inner fortress of the Han family.

Han Wanshan piled all the retreating personal guards on Shijie Street, dismantled the shop doors on both sides, and used them, along with more than thirty carts, to form four walls. The rooftops were filled with archers, and eight crossbows were placed in the center of the street.

He planned to drag himself along this street until dark.

Chen Mu did not crash into it first.

"Where is the grain depot?"

The young soldier, wounded in the abdomen, pointed eastward.

"Behind the high walls and green tiles."

"Where are the people who opened the position?"

"Manager Han, please stay here."

"Grab the grain first."

More than three thousand mouths inside the pass were starving. If white rice were truly laid out, even with three hundred of Han Wanshan's personal guards, he couldn't protect every single household.

Anato led 140 light cavalrymen to turn onto East Street.

The street was narrow, and the horses couldn't run fast. She made all the riders dismount, leaving the horses for the military households to transport the wounded, while she led her men forward, hugging the walls under the eaves.

The Han family archers fired arrows from the rooftop.

The first rank of light cavalry raised their shields, while the second rank swung lassos at the rooftop. The archers had barely peeked out when the lassos caught their shoulders and necks, and they were dragged down from the roof by a dozen men.

Someone fell to their death on the stone slab.

Those who didn't die from the fall were surrounded by starving people.

An archer recognized his aunt and quickly threw down his bow, begging for mercy. The old woman didn't hit him; she just snatched the bow and pointed it in the direction of the granary.

"lead the way."

More and more people are coming to East Street.

When Anato arrived at the blue-tiled wall, she was already followed by more than 600 soldiers and merchants. Some carried knives, some carried carrying poles, and there was even a butcher carrying two boning knives, still wearing a greasy apron around his waist.

The grain depot's gate was covered with sheet metal.

Thirty-odd private soldiers of the Han family poured hot oil down the wall, while two rows of long spears were laid across the doorway. Steward Han stood upstairs and shouted, "Anyone who dares to steal the Han family's grain will have their entire family killed in the future!"

The butcher looked up and spat.

"My son guarded the pass for him and hasn't eaten a single grain of rice in three days."

"My son's life is tied to that grain!"

He was the first to rush through the door.

Hot oil was poured down, and blisters immediately formed on half of his face and arm. The butcher knelt in pain, but threw his boning knife into the doorway, piercing the face of a private soldier.

The soldiers behind them carried the distillery door panels up.

The first door panel was burned through by the oil, and the second one was placed on top of it. Some people were engulfed in flames and clung to the iron door to prevent it from closing completely. More than six hundred people pushed their way in layer by layer, and the iron door was finally forced to bend inward.

Anato climbed up to the restaurant next door.

Unable to draw her bow for long due to her shoulder injury, she ordered ten shepherdesses to fire arrows simultaneously. The arrows didn't hit the area inside the gate, but only the oil drums upstairs. The drums began to leak oil, making the Han family's private soldiers increasingly slippery.

Manager Han wanted to run away.

The lasso flew over the opposite rooftop and wrapped around his waist.

Anado pulled him with one hand, and Manager Han fell from the building, his face hitting the stone steps first. The butcher picked up the boning knife with his still-functioning left hand and slit his throat.

The iron gate was then kicked open.

There is no empty warehouse behind the wall.

There were sixteen warehouses in total, twelve for white rice and four for wheat and beans. The outermost warehouse was also piled with smoked meat, salted fish, and wine jars, enough to feed the inner fortress guards for several months.

The people who rushed in suddenly fell silent.

For the past few days, they have been stripping tree bark and boiling leather belts, and their children have starved to death in the house, while Han Wanshan has locked up the grain less than two streets away from them.

The first to cry was the butcher who had been scalded.

He grabbed a handful of rice and stuffed it into his mouth, chewing it along with the blood. Then he kicked over the meat rack and dragged all the smoked meat outside.

"Open the pot!"

All sixteen warehouse doors were smashed open.

One by one, the empty carts brought by Su Wan entered the courtyard. The rice was not transported out of the village, but distributed on East Street. Each household took one bag first, and those who were willing to carry wounded soldiers, move corpses, or guard the street corner took another bag.

Someone tried to grab more, but was stopped by their neighbor.

"That's enough to eat!"

"There are more people behind!"

Two large pots were first set up at the entrance of the grain depot.

Er Gou was too injured to get up, so the old soldier from the cookhouse hung the small copper pot next to the largest iron pot. The pot was too small to cook more than ten bowls, but it was reserved for the wounded soldiers who had retreated from the front street.

The aroma of rice wafted over half of Bailang Pass.

The Han soldiers who were still firing arrows on the stone street began to turn around.

They smelled it too.

Han Wanshan's men cut down two men from behind, but a squad of archers still managed to throw down their bows and leap onto the rooftops to East Street. Taking advantage of this, Lu Shuangyi led over seventy armored infantrymen to ram the first wall of wagons.

They don't ride horses.

Ten men carried a crossbeam of the stable, pushing forward under a hail of arrows from the rooftop. The Han family's crossbows fired, thick arrows piercing the first three heavy armor suits. Those behind stepped on the corpses, preventing the crossbeams from touching the ground.

The first wall of vehicles was smashed open.

Han soldiers rushed out from both sides of the camp, their spears wedging against the crossbeams. Lu Shuangyi leaped over the wall using the carriage shafts, her blade slashing from a man's shoulder to his chest. Blood seeped from her left ribs again, so she didn't use her waist strength, but instead used close-quarters combat, knee strikes, and blows to the face with the hilt of her blade.

Two guards flanked her from behind.

A young Han soldier wearing his brother's armor took a blow for her, his shoulder armor cleaved open. Lu Shuangyi grabbed the enemy's hair and shoved his head under the wheel.

"Push the cart!"

More than a dozen soldiers worked together.

The wheels ran over the necks of the guards.

The second wall of vehicles also began to collapse.

Chen Mu's medical vehicle was parked at the street corner.

Lin Qinghe changed the bandage under his arm for the third time, and blood continued to seep out. But he kept looking at the ceiling.

"The third shop on the left."

Lin Qinghe looked up.

The shop's window was always closed, and there was no one on the roof, but half a crossbow string was sticking out from under the door.

She grabbed the crossbow from the medical cart and shot an arrow through the window paper.

The archer inside fired his arrow prematurely, but it missed by two feet. The wounded soldiers guarding the street immediately broke down the door and dragged out four hidden guards.

Chen Mu asked, "Can we still fire arrows?"

"Yes," Lin Qinghe said.

"Then don't cut my bike rope."

Lin Qinghe did not agree, but pushed the car forward ten steps.

Twelve ballistae were also advanced along the street.

With each breach in the wall, the ballista moved forward a bit. The Han family's eight ballistae were pinned to the wall by even thicker bolts.

Behind the third wall of wagons, the defending troops numbered less than two hundred.

A military leader, wanting to appease the troops with silver, pried open a wooden box in the street. Inside were silver ingots stamped by the Han family.

As soon as he shouted out the reward of fifty taels of silver for killing one person, the people on the street laughed.

"Pay back the food you owe us first!"

Tiles, stones, and boiling water fell simultaneously from both sides of the building.

The imperial guards did not die under the black pot knife, but were first scattered by the people who had guarded the pass for more than ten years.

The fourth wall of carriages held out for only a moment.

Lu Shuangyi shoved aside the last car, and ahead lay the Han family's inner fortress. Han Wanshan had already led the remaining 280-odd personal guards into the fortress, dragging away seven silver carts and a batch of armor and weapons before closing the gate.

Before the fort gates closed, a squad of royal guards suddenly rushed out from the side street.

Instead of heading towards the inner fortress, they went straight to the granary on East Street. Each of them carried an oil can on their back and a tinderbox in their hand. Han Wanshan preferred to burn the white rice rather than leave any for the people inside the pass.

Su Wan was distributing rice at the entrance of the grain depot.

She saw the firefighters but did not order the warehouse door to be closed.

"Rice bags pave the streets!"

Dozens of bags of white rice were cut open and poured onto the bluestone road, bag and all. Buckets of water then flowed from the wineries, teahouses, and people's homes, soaking the entire East Street.

When the firefighters rushed in, the ground was covered in wet rice.

The first man slipped, smashing the oil can he was carrying and spilling oil all over himself. The second man lit a tinderbox to throw it away, but Anato leaped from the roof of the granary and nailed his hand, along with the tinderbox, into the mud and rice with a single stroke.

The remaining people rushed towards the warehouse gate.

The butcher, who had been scalded, blocked the doorway.

Half of his face was covered in blisters, his right arm was too heavy to lift, but his left hand held a boning knife. A soldier pierced his abdomen, and he used the momentum of the blow to press himself forward, the boning knife plunging into the soldier's chin.

The two of them fell onto the pile of rice together.

"grain……"

The butcher's mouth was full of blood.

"Don't burn it..."

More than 600 people gathered around from both sides.

Those carrying water were hit on the head with their carrying poles, those carrying rice were entangled in ropes around their legs, and even the old woman who had just received her rice handed her rice bag to her child and swung a wooden ladle at people. More than thirty firefighters failed to get close to the warehouse door and all died on the soaked white rice.

Su Wan knelt down and pressed down on the butcher's abdomen.

When Lin Qinghe arrived, the butcher was still alive. She used the last packet of good medicine to seal the wound and then had someone dismantle her medical cart to lift him up.

The butcher couldn't open his eyes and kept asking if the grain had been burned.

Su Wan grabbed a handful of wet rice and placed it in his palm.

"All sixteen warehouses are still there."

The butcher then loosened his boning knife.

Anato picked up the knife and tucked it behind her waist.

"Return it to him when he wakes up."

These thirty-odd firefighters were also unable to buy time for Han Wanshan.

They all wore copper badges from the inner fortress at their waists, but they had not a single grain of dry rations on them. Several of the dying guards, smelling the aroma of rice from the granary, actually lay down on the ground and grabbed handfuls of wet rice to stuff into their mouths.

When the surrounding crowd saw this, they did not finish off the attacker.

Someone placed hot porridge in front of them.

"If you want to eat it, throw away the tinder first."

The last seven firefighters unloaded the oil canisters themselves and dumped them in the ditch. After drinking their porridge, they turned around and led the people to smash the side door of the armory.

The Zhongjie Armory was not moved in time.

The warehouse contained over four hundred suits of leather and iron armor, more than two thousand long and short guns, seven hundred crossbows, and a whole cartload of unsharpened new knives. When the soldiers from within the pass rushed in, they could finally replace their kitchen knives and hoes.

An elderly man with white hair, unable to put on his armor, handed his crossbow to his granddaughter.

"You have good eyesight."

The granddaughter cocked the crossbow and turned to stand outside the inner fortress.

The armory originally had eighty guards.

They saw the firemen drinking porridge by the pot, and they saw bags of white rice being delivered to people's homes on East Street. Before the heavily armored soldiers could even break down the door, they killed the Han family's warehouse official from inside.

When the warehouse official's body was thrown out the door, he still had half a piece of dried meat in his mouth.

Eighty guards removed their black armor and donned newly issued, plain armor. Instead of returning home, they pushed carts of armory directly to the outer fortress. Seven hundred crossbows were distributed in the street; those who received the bows only needed to answer one question.

"Han Wanshan, come out, who are you going to shoot?"

Everyone aimed their arrows at the inner fortress.

By the afternoon, black pot flags had been planted on all three main streets.

The number of rice cookers in the granary has increased from two to more than twenty. People who were hiding indoors yesterday have all gone out into the street, carrying bowls to look at the inner fortress.

Han Wanshan did not send out any more troops.

He climbed to the highest watchtower in the inner fortress, glanced at the grain that had been distributed among the people, and then at Chen Mu's medical cart.

He then ordered his men to set fire to the oil drums next to the seven silver carriages.

The fire did not spread to the inner fortress.

Seven vehicles rushed down the slope and crashed into the East Street granary, the West Street stable, and the South Alley, which was full of residents.

If Han Wanshan cannot defend Bailang Pass, he will burn the entire pass down.