Chapter 35: The Luo Religion (Part 2)

“Please send a squad of infantry to patrol the missionary village when the time comes, so we can see if you have the courage to fight against foreigners.”
Liu Yu suddenly spoke up, “Fighting against heaven brings endless joy; fighting against the earth also brings endless joy; fighting against people brings endless joy. What is there not to fight? What’s there to fear even if we kill a foreigner?”
This was Shanxi, not Haiyang. Killing a foreign missionary to show strength was trivial. Even if the French got angry, they would first vent their anger on the Vietnamese authorities and the Black Flag Army. Here, with the emperor far away, sending in a squad of infantry could sweep through the entire province of Shanxi.
“Hmm, the missionary village doesn’t pay taxes. Let’s come up with a pretext—call it equal sharing!”
Since the missionary village didn’t pay taxes to the government nor had to perform unpaid labor demanded by the government, Liu Yu had the right to demand equal treatment throughout Vietnam. “It’s settled!”
Luo Yanqiu gently tapped her delicate hand. “It’s settled! By then, your camp will gain real benefits, and my religion will gain followers.”
These two, whom the French called “evil barbarians,” thus took the first step toward dividing the sacred Western civilization.
Yet no matter how sharp Luo Yanqiu’s vision and insight were, Liu Yu could observe things from the perspective of a century later. He knew certain things, but he didn’t want to reveal them for now.
If this cooperation turned out to be extremely successful, he would share his knowledge with Luo Yanqiu. Together, they would become a deadly virus against any hostile religion.
It would be a double-edged sword, as well as Pandora’s box.
“I believe I can control everything in this era,” Liu Yu said, full of confidence in himself.
……
“Load the bayonets! Load the bayonets!”
Zhang Biao, with a bandit-like face, held a revolver and shouted, “Everyone, load the bayonets!”
After more than half a month of training, the soldiers now had a well-organized formation. When they lined up in squares, their fierce aura was evident. What made them even more imposing was that for this demonstration patrol, Liu Yu had carefully selected a hundred tall and strong soldiers. Sixty rifles equipped with bayonets were gathered from the Xiliu Camp. From any angle, it looked like a sea of bayonets, radiating murderous intent.
Leading this troop was Zhang Biao, who looked like a bandit at first glance, adding an extra layer of ferocity to the formation.
“March in two columns! March in two columns!”
The commander was Colonel Jackon, an American drunk who turned out to be a loyal Puritan. Liu Yu couldn’t understand how he managed to combine those two traits.
But he was willing to lead an infantry company to crush the Catholic Church’s influence. Though Liu Yu suspected that for him, drinking was more important than Catholicism, at least he fulfilled his duties when commanding a small infantry unit. “Count off!”
The soldiers marched in an orderly manner. Under the sunlight, their sweat flew, dust rose, and they trampled everything in their path.
The bayonets were fixed in place, bullets were loaded, and the ammunition boxes were filled with enough rounds for a major battle. Before setting out, they had even enjoyed a farewell drink and a hearty meal. “Follow my orders, follow Commander Sima’s orders—move forward!”
This wasn’t just an ordinary march; it was a battle. Sima Tai stood among the troops, encouraging them.

“What if there are enemy fortifications! Push them over with bayonets!”
“Fighting has begun—march toward the sound of gunfire!”
“We are the invincible Xiliu Camp!”
Under the two willow leaf flags, the soldiers of Xiliu Camp devoted their utmost enthusiasm to this mission: “Kill! Kill! Kill!”
They knew their fate depended on this operation. Zhang Biao hung his white straw hat on his bayonet: “Anyone who dares to resist—pierce them through!”
The initial patrol went smoothly. The residents of the Vietnamese villages hadn’t even seen the troops yet when they sent people to stand at the village entrances, waving white flags in welcome.
Zhang Biao didn’t even glance at them. Nearby, Colonel Jieken had already given orders: “Change from two columns to four columns—use live ammunition, advance!”
The representatives waving the white flags froze in shock. These murderous soldiers paid no attention to their welcome, perfectly reorganized their formation without a single mistake, then simply shouted “Kill!” as they marched straight through the village.
All the Vietnamese hid in their houses at that thunderous cry, fearing they might be killed by mistake.
Xiliu Camp showed no interest in the food or other local goods they offered and didn’t stop at all. With steady steps, the entire unit seemed like a war machine, crushing any opponent who dared to resist.
The Vietnamese could only peek at the army through cracks in the doors or windows, seeing only those almost uniform footsteps.
They compared the powerful armies they had seen to Xiliu Camp, but no matter whether it was Liu Yongfu’s Black Flag Army, the governor of Shanxi’s personal troops, or even the legendary armies of the Qing Dynasty, none matched their ferocity.
Especially those gleaming bayonets terrified them—dozens of them charging at the enemy could create countless blood holes in their bodies.
They had thought this newly arrived force in Shanxi was weak, even though the carnage on the riverbanks had warned them, but they still hesitated. Only now did they realize it was a dog that wouldn’t even bark.
A few self-proclaimed experienced elders stood there, whispering, “How much rice can the village harvest this season? We need to prepare the tribute amount.”
Everyone knew which army they were meant to pay tribute to, but everyone’s mind was still fixed on the image of that murderous force just now.
Tribute time had come! Their thoughts were interrupted by a shocking news: “Oh heavens! Xiliu Camp is heading south!”
South? That was a Catholic village. Although there were no foreign missionaries, there was a church, and the hundreds of villagers there were all Catholics—very united and aggressive. Even the government troops didn’t dare to collect taxes there.
Did they dare to go?
At that moment, Sima Tai was giving his final call to action:
“What have I told you? What did the commander tell us?”
“Forward! March toward the sound of gunfire!”
Sima Tai turned his straw hat and ordered loudly, “March south!”