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

Pointing to a paragraph: "Look at this."

Xiaohu leaned over and saw the following words:

"The cleanup plan must be completed within seven phases. Each phase will primarily focus on 'protocol-based evidence destruction,' with personnel replacement and silent treatment as secondary measures. The lead personnel are codenames S-6 and T-7."

"What the hell is this?" Xiaohu widened his eyes.

It was a village hidden at the foot of a mountain, nowhere to be found on any map. The villagers lived off the land, working from sunrise to sunset, living a life isolated from the world. He had once stayed there for a night, where a skinny, pale child forced a bowl of hot rice upon him. He still remembered it, consisting of only a few grains of rice and a smattering of wild vegetables, yet it was more genuine than any other delicacies.

Now, he had to go back to find them.

He knew the villagers were tired.

It wasn't just physical exhaustion; it was also a heavy heart. He remembered the old woman, her eyes shimmering with tears, her voice hoarse as rags as she spoke of her missing son. He remembered the children's eyes, a tangle of curiosity and fear about the outside world. He knew that this village was no longer what it once was, a land ripped apart by fate.

"Are you really going into that village?" Xiaohu's voice came from behind, with a hint of hesitation and worry.

"We must go." Qin Cang didn't look back. His tone was calm, but as firm as a knife carving stone.

"But that place... I heard before that someone went in and never came out."

"I can get in and get out." Qin Cang said lightly. His words were not harsh, but they revealed an unquestionable confidence.

He knew that it was not blind self-confidence, but a judgment deeply rooted in his bones. He was not taking a risk, but doing something that had to be done.

They descended the mountain path, the path becoming increasingly difficult the closer they got to the village. The trees grew denser, like a natural barrier, surrounding the village. Along the way, they saw broken wooden gates and abandoned sheds, evidently evidence of someone's attempts to carve out another path, but ultimately failed.

At noon, they finally stepped into the village entrance.

At the entrance to the village stood a heavily weathered wooden sign, the name engraved on it long blurred, with only a few barely discernible incisions remaining. Xiaohu subconsciously slowed down his pace and followed closely behind Qin Cang. The village was strangely quiet; not even the barking of a dog could be heard.

Qin Cang stopped, squatted down, and picked up a stone from the ground.

"See?" he whispered.

Xiaohu moved closer and looked in the direction he pointed, only to see a fresh scratch in the mud not far away, as if someone had been dragging something heavy, and it was very recent - no more than a day ago.

"Someone is still moving." Xiaohu whispered, his voice trembling slightly.

"It's not people moving, it's them observing." Qin Cang narrowed his eyes, "This village has never been simple."

Just as he finished speaking, a wooden window in the distance suddenly creaked and slowly closed, like an eye that peeked in and then quickly dodged.

Qin Cang stood up and continued to walk in calmly. He didn't want to alert the enemy, but he also knew that the people in the village already knew about their arrival.

The deeper we go into the village, the more depressing the atmosphere becomes.

Finally, someone came out.

An old man, hunched over, dressed in washed-out coarse clothes, his face covered in wrinkles, as if even his expression had been obscured by time. He stood at the entrance of the alley, clutching a rusty copper kettle, his eyes cloudy but filled with a strange wariness.

"You are not from the village." The old man's voice was dry, as if he had not spoken for a long time.

Qin Cang did not hide anything and said directly: "We are here to investigate something and will not stay long."

"Investigate?" The old man chuckled softly, his smile devoid of any warmth. "What people in this village fear most is someone coming to investigate."

"We just want to know something. If you are willing to tell us, we won't disturb others." Qin Cang turned slightly to the side, trying to soften his tone.

The old man stared at him for a long while, then suddenly asked, "Are you Qin Cang?"

At that moment, Xiao Hu's entire body trembled, and his hair stood on end. Qin Cang's brows also tightened, but his face showed no sign of abnormality.

"How do you know me?" he asked.

The old man sighed. "You were here. I remember you. You helped us, but then something happened and you didn't come back."

At that moment, Qin Cang's heart tightened. He remembered that before leaving the village, he had indeed promised to come back to visit, and he even brought an IOU, saying that he would repair wells and roads in the village. But later, the war broke out, and he had no chance to return.

"You outsiders never keep your word," the old man murmured, "but now I know you're the last person I can trust."

He turned around and waved: "Come with me, there are some things that it's time to let you know."

They walked through the alleys of the village. Every door was closed silently. Occasionally, a curtain would be gently lifted, revealing a pair of eyes, but they would instantly retreat back into darkness.

Finally, the old man led them to an earthen house filled with medicinal herbs, straw-woven bamboo baskets, and a worn wooden box. The old man carefully took out a yellowed booklet and handed it to Qin Cang.

"I've been guarding this thing for ten years. I didn't want to show it to anyone else, but I think you... should know."

Qin Cang took the booklet and flipped it open. Every page was densely packed with names, dates, and a strange code. He quickly scanned it and finally saw the words "Cleanup Phase Five" on a page, followed by the names of several deceased villagers.

His grip suddenly tightened, and the booklet almost slipped from his hands.

"Didn't these people... die of the plague?" he asked in a low voice.

"No." The old man closed his eyes and answered in a trembling voice, "They were taken away and never came back."

"Who took it away?"

"No one knows their names, only that they claim to be here to 'maintain the peace.'"

Qin Cang felt the rage slowly simmering in his chest, so intense that bloodshot eyes formed. He finally understood that this village was not only a witness to tragedy, but also a testing ground, the first target of the cleanup plan.

Xiaohu's face turned pale, and he clenched his fists without realizing it. "They...are using the villagers as test subjects?"

"It's worse than that." Qin Cang whispered, his eyes turning as cold as a wolf's. "They have laid a line here. Once anyone touches it, they will be automatically 'cleaned'."

He turned to the old man, his voice carrying a hint of sharpness that was hard to conceal: "Where does this line start?"

Sunlight filtered through the sparse branches, creating a dappled, elusive pattern, as if the air wasn't filled with sunlight but the unfinished sighs of the dead. Xiaohu stood behind him, his lips pale, one hand subconsciously clutching the seam of his pants, his palm soaked with sweat.

"Are we really... going in?" Xiaohu's voice was dry, as if it had been scraped by sand.