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

He remembered seeing a fallen tree near this slope. The broken part of the tree had been struck by lightning, leaving its surface charred black, with many dry branches stuck in the cracks. With an idea in mind, he quickly ran towards the dead tree.

On the way, he heard subtle sounds - footsteps, one light and one heavy, with a hint of hesitation.

He narrowed his eyes and hid behind a tree.

Sure enough, it was Xiaohu.

The guy was squatting behind a bush not far away, looking around with an anxious and confused look in his eyes. He was obviously looking for something, perhaps Qin Cang, or perhaps he was just using his actions to cover up his uneasy heart.

Qin Cang didn't show up, just watched him quietly. Showing up now would not only disrupt the stealth rhythm, but also might attract pursuit. Most importantly, he had to teach Xiaohu that not all worries could be turned into actions. Sometimes, worry should be endured, and fear should be swallowed with gritted teeth.

He quietly made his way around it, arriving at the charred tree. He quickly pulled out a few branches, tied them together with vines, and pulled out a few loose pieces of bark and half-wet dead leaves. He moved quickly, but each step was careful, ensuring that no branch or leaf would fall to the ground and make any unnecessary noise.

It took him a full five minutes to put his disguise in place, pick up the small bundle of firewood, and return the same way he had come.

When he returned to the well, he checked the nearby traces again, and after confirming that they were correct, he carefully climbed into the well. His fingers brushed the edge of the well, pulled off two straw ropes that had been tied there casually, and slowly stuffed the firewood into the corner near the entrance, making it look like it had been thrown there and had not been used.

This little detail could prove crucial during the retreat. Perhaps the enemy would mistakenly believe a pathfinder was planning to build a stove for the night, or perhaps they'd mistakenly believe this was just part of a civilian hideout. Regardless, Qin Cang knew that in a game with such an enemy, every little detail could mean the difference between life and death.

After completing everything, he slid back into the shaft, his mind retracing the route into the bunker. He remembered the forks in the path, the nail marks and cracks on the wall, the changes in light, and the subtle flow of air.

Qin Cang stared at the blurry outline for a long time, with an imperceptible complexity flashing across his eyes.

Xiaohu's breathing was light, even irregular, perhaps due to exhaustion, and even a sense of unease in his dreams. His body, tucked away in a small vest, trembled with each breath, like a frightened animal in the bushes. He clutched the rifle tightly in one hand, as if afraid of losing it in his dream.

"This brat..." Qin Cang's throat moved, but he didn't make a sound to wake him up. He couldn't bear it.

But in his heart, there was an indescribable bitterness.

He understood that Xiaohu hadn't just come in out of concern for him. Their relationship was far more than just a superior-subordinate relationship. That bond, forged through life and death, was forged in blood, a final, lasting trust between them, as they lay in the mud amidst hail of bullets.

But feelings are feelings, and actions are actions.

Qin Cang knew that he couldn't let Xiaohu continue to be exposed to unknown dangers - the secrets hidden in this bunker were far deeper, more complex, and more dangerous than they had imagined. And all they could rely on were some fragmented clues and their courage.

He stood up from the ground quietly, walked along the wall of the well with his back, and bent down to check on Xiaohu's condition.

There was a smudge on the side of Xiaohu's face, a hint of sweat on his eyelashes, and his young face looked a little pale with fatigue. Qin Cang raised his hand to wipe away the stain, but stopped mid-air. He tightened his grip, finally gently pressing Xiaohu's shoulder as a hint of comfort, then turned and left.

His goal was not to rest, but to check the supplies.

Before climbing into the shaft, he hid his small backpack behind a rocky outcrop at a fork in the road. It was an emergency bag, containing only two bottles of water, a bag of dry food, and an old tin can—all things he needed for emergencies. He had to take inventory of his small reserves now—they had no idea how long they would be spending in the bunker, let alone how much energy and endurance they would face in the event of an emergency.

When he squatted down and took out the backpack, the calmness in his heart became even calmer as he checked the supplies one by one.

Only a third of the dry food remained. Xiao Hu had eaten half a package of compressed biscuits, leaving the other half still wrapped. Qin Cang sniffed carefully; it wasn't damp. There was also a bottle and a half of water left, the cap loose, likely from Xiao Hu's hasty drinking. The can was unopened, but noticeably warped, as if it had been bumped. Whether the seal was still secure remained to be determined.

"It's barely enough for two people for one night." He muttered to himself, his voice filled with an indescribable mixture of anxiety and calmness.

He was not worried about being hungry, but he was afraid that if the operation was obstructed, they would have to stay in the bunker longer than expected. At that time, even a small piece of compressed biscuit would become a life-saving straw.

He reorganized the supplies and placed half of them into Xiaohu's backpack, his movements steady and unhurried. He didn't intend to tell Xiaohu this little detail—it wasn't doting, but instinctive care. He couldn't let the boy always place all his trust in him. He had to teach him to take responsibility, to learn to perceive the intentions and care of those around him through their eyes, actions, and words.

He stuffed the bag back into the crevice and stood up when he suddenly heard a very soft murmur.

"team leader……"

That was Xiaohu speaking in his dream. His tone was soft, but it revealed a sense of unwillingness and stubbornness.

Qin Cang looked back without saying a word, but the corners of his mouth curled up slightly, barely perceptible.

"Just wait, we'll be moving soon."

He whispered, squatted down again, and took out a fragment of the map from his waist - it was taken from the enemy outpost before, and only part of the ventilation system and passage structure was marked, but it was enough for him to find the main passage of the bunker.

He gently traced the charcoal lines with his fingertips, his eyes gradually becoming stern. He knew that those intersections were the key to the bunker's central connection. If he could infiltrate there, he would not only be able to identify the core of the enemy's deployment, but might even find the enemy's storage area.

"Let Xiaohu sleep for a while," he thought to himself. "We'll be leaving soon, and then I'm afraid I won't be able to rest for a moment."

As the night deepened, the temperature in the shaft began to drop, the humidity growing heavier, even the collar of his shirt felt slightly cold against his skin. Qin Cang paid no heed, simply continuing in the darkness to rehearse every next step, every turn, every possible encounter and fight. His mind was tense as a string, not daring to relax for a moment.