The bright moonlight gently spilled over the endless grassland; the earth lay in a hazy gray, utterly still. The night wind grew stronger, stirring the dead grass into restless waves that rustled softly, as if a poet were chanting verses. It was a wonderful and tranquil night—yet in a valley on this very night, an armed group lay silently in ambush. Each man was well equipped, cloaked in camouflage, calmly watching the bandits below who were eating meat and gulping down liquor around a bonfire. Their eyes gleamed especially bright under the moonlight. It was Luo Zheng and his men.
The unit shifted soundlessly, making its final deployment, casually occupying the heights on both sides of the valley. Perhaps they trusted their own sentries too much, for the bandits down in the valley showed no alertness at all, stuffing themselves and drinking wildly, shouting this and that, bursting into loud laughter from time to time, their raucous cheer seeming ready to set the whole valley ablaze.
