Bright Sword: Conquer the monk at the beginning and take down Zhou Weiguo

"Including me?" Liu San turned around and asked.

"Including myself." Qin Cang's voice was very soft, but it was filled with unquestionable coldness.

Liu San said nothing more. He knew Qin Cang was not a suspicious person. Because of this, when he began to doubt everything, it showed that this chess game was far more complicated than they had expected.

After sneaking through the forest for several hours, they finally reached the outskirts of the enemy stronghold again. The difference was that this time, the command post, which had been lit, was now completely dark, with not even a single sentry in sight.

"Retreat?" Liu San frowned. "Too fast."

"No, they are hiding." Qin Cang whispered, his voice piercing the night like a nail.

His sharp eyes caught the slight movement of leaves somewhere in the forest. It wasn't the wind, but people. He signaled Liu San to flank to the left, while he himself moved forward, close to the ground, slowly approaching the side of the stronghold.

Amidst a rustling sound, Liu San suddenly stopped and crouched motionless. He saw a middle-aged man in plain clothes crouching beside an abandoned warehouse, holding something in his hand and seemingly burying it underground. He remained calm, slowly backing away a few steps, then circled to the other side, preparing to attack from both sides.

Almost at the same time, Qin Cang climbed over the wall from the other side and landed lightly behind the man, his knife already unsheathed.

"do not move."

The man froze suddenly and turned his head slowly. When he saw the pair of eyes as cold as ice, he was surprised for a moment, then he forced himself to remain calm.

"Are you... a mountain dweller?"

Qin Cang ignored his temptation and walked forward, grabbed his shoulders, pushed him to the ground, and put the blade against his neck.

"Tell me, who are you and what are you burying?"

The man hesitated for a moment, his eyes darting around, as if waiting for a signal for help. But Qin Cang saw through his hesitation and suddenly increased his force, causing the tip of the knife to pierce his skin, and a trickle of blood slowly flowed down.

"Don't force me." Qin Cang's tone was low, but his murderous intent was not concealed at all.

"I...I was just ordered to bury the documents," the man finally spoke, speaking rapidly. "Before retreating, we received orders to destroy all communication data, but time was tight. I didn't have time to burn it all, so I had to bury it."

"Whose order?" Liu San suddenly appeared from the side and scared the man so much that his face changed drastically.

"I don't know... I really don't know... I'm just a messenger!"

Qin Cang narrowed his eyes, suddenly bent down, and carefully looked at a shallow scratch on the man's neck - this was a mark of wearing a specific headset, not something an ordinary messenger would have.

"You're not a messenger," he said. "You're a listener."

The man's face suddenly turned deathly pale, and his lips trembled, not knowing whether it was from the cold or fear. He tried to struggle, but Qin Cang punched him in the abdomen, causing him to curl up like a shrimp in pain.

"Buried what?"

"Secret orders, maps, lists... and a communication log of 'White Wolf'..." He finally said it out, as if handing over his life.

"List?" Liu San's eyes darkened. "What list?"

"The hidden list... your side... the contact code, mission history... and the instructions for the replacement..."

Qin Cang suddenly lowered his head and found a small black notebook in the man's arms. The cover was worn out. When he opened it, he saw dense numbers and codes inside, and a tiny wolf head mark was printed at the end.

His heart suddenly shook. This was not the end, but another entrance.

He slowly stood up and looked at the dark dusk in the distance. A thought came to his mind: they had always thought that they were hunting the "White Wolf", but now it seemed that the "White Wolf" might be watching their every step quietly with the eyes of a hunter.

"Brother Qin..." Liu San called him softly, with a hint of uneasiness in his eyes, "We should go back and report this, right?"

"No." Qin Cang put away the notebook, a light that did not belong to the night flashing in his eyes, "I can't go back. Going back now might mean losing my life."

"Then what shall we do?"

"Change route, change clothes, and go around the rear." Qin Cang's voice was low but firm. "If we want to lure out the real hunter, we have to become bait. We won't take the main road, we will go around the back mountain to where they can't see us."

He glanced at the diary in his hand. It was like holding a piece of red-hot iron. He didn't know whether it was burning pain or hot blood.

This information was observed, compiled, and recorded bit by bit, like a hunter marking a trap for his prey. As he flipped through the pages, Qin Cang's expression darkened, his brow furrowed. A cold sweat trickled down his spine, the feeling of being spied on chilling him. He had always trusted his intuition, but now, it pierced his mind like a sharp needle: the team had been exposed far earlier than he had imagined.

"I'll go out and see if there are any dead branches to burn." He suddenly put down the notebook, stood up, and spoke in a low and steady voice.

Liu San looked up and glanced at him. "You're not in a hurry for firewood, are you? I still have some hay here."

"No, we have to find something dry." Qin Cang looked away and said casually, "The weather is very strange. If it rains tonight, we must have a fire and can't let it go out."

Liu San nodded, but said nothing. He sensed the unnatural pressure in Qin Cang's words, but he didn't ask any further questions. In this moment of panic, keeping some space between each other might be more important than words.

Qin Cang left the camp, treading on fallen leaves. He didn't go far, but instead walked slowly along the hillside, searching for dry branches and leaves beneath the trees while carefully monitoring his surroundings. His eyes were as sharp as an eagle's, his nerves tense—even the slightest movement allowed him to quickly determine its direction and cause.

He knew the enemy might not have completely withdrawn, and might even be lying in ambush nearby, waiting for them to return and investigate. He also knew the enemy's net wasn't just for them. He needed time alone, to sort through the chaotic information. More than anything, he needed a clear direction.

Reaching a sheltered valley, Qin Cang squatted and gathered a few dry branches. With a gentle snap of his fingers, the branches snapped crisply, indicating they were low in moisture and could indeed be used as fuel. He slowly gathered the branches and piled them into a small pile, his smile never relaxed.

He looked up and around. The forest was unusually quiet, as if everything was holding its breath.

"If I were them, where would I hide?" he asked himself.

His eyes slowly swept over a particularly dense clump of brush on his left. It was slightly elevated, offering a good view, convenient for both observation and retreat. He crouched close, but found no trace in the grass. He narrowed his eyes, half-crouched, and drew his short knife, gently brushing aside the blades. The ground was as clean as if no one had ever set foot there.

But Qin Cang did not relax.