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

"Exhausted, lost too much blood, and his leg is probably broken too." Qin Cang squatted down, quickly and steadily checked him over. "Get the first aid kit quickly."

Xiao Hu quickly put on his backpack and took out strips of cloth, medicine powder, and a clean water bottle from the bag.

Qin Cang skillfully cleaned Liu San's wounds and bandaged them with hemostatic strips. While treating him, he asked in a deep voice, "How many people are watching you?"

Liu San gritted his teeth, his voice muffled: "Those...those two short guys were always watching me from behind. When I walked fast, they walked slow; when I walked slow, they walked fast...and when I said my stomach hurt, they laughed."

Qin Cang nodded: "You did the right thing. Next time... next time don't carry it yourself, it's too dangerous."

Liu San's face twitched, then he suddenly smiled, revealing a set of yellow teeth: "I guess I'm... buying you some time?"

Qin Cang said in a deep voice, "You saved the entire team."

Liu San didn't speak again. He closed his eyes, but the corners of his mouth were slightly upturned, as if he were sinking into a bittersweet yet peaceful dream.

Night fell completely.

The wind blew through the treetops, carrying a slight dampness, and dewdrops fell silently onto the scarred leaves, like tears sliding down their cheeks.

Qin Cang didn't move. He squatted there, watching Liu San. He never trusted people easily, but Liu San's desperate act this time stirred a long-lost sense of sorrow and respect in him.

"We need to keep going," he said in a low voice.

Xiao Hu hesitated for a moment: "Can he walk?"

"No." Qin Cang picked up Liu San, as if carrying a heavy bag of fate on his back.

"What should I do?"

"Wherever we end up, that's where we'll go." Qin Cang said in a deep voice, then carried Liu San on his back and stepped onto the thorny and unknown mountain path.

Qin Cang carried Liu San on his back, his steps heavy but steady. He never complained of being tired, nor did he ever ask if it was "worth it." Xiao Hu walked ahead, occasionally parting the branches and glancing back, afraid that Liu San might faint again. He felt uncertain, his feet felt unsteady. He had only just gotten used to running amidst gunfire, but he had never imagined that deep in the mountains, one could be driven mad without firing a single shot.

"Captain..." Xiao Hu asked in a low voice, "Where are we going?"

"The usual place," Qin Cang replied in a low voice.

"On the other side of the mountain?"

"Ah."

Xiao Hu hesitated for a moment: "Then we still have to get over that rockfall slope, Uncle Liu..."

"I can walk!" Liu San suddenly mumbled, his voice hoarse as if his throat was stuffed with lime.

"How can you walk?" Xiao Hu frowned.

Liu San snorted defiantly, but was too weak to struggle, so he could only close his eyes and let Qin Cang carry him forward. The wind whistled through the forest, sounding like weeping and lamenting, but he felt it was just like the suona he used to hear in the market, strange, deep, and chilling.

After walking for two hours, they finally stopped beside an abandoned teahouse. It was a wooden house with three crumbling walls and one broken beam. Wild vines grew all over the corners of the house, and the door had long been removed by someone, leaving only the threshold lying across the room like a withered skeleton.

"Take a break." Qin Cang gently put Liu San down, took out a water bottle and handed it to Xiao Hu, "Moisten his mouth so he doesn't choke."

Xiao Hu nodded, squatted down, and fed Liu San water little by little. Liu San's lips were chapped, and as soon as the water touched the corner of his lips, he took a big gulp, which caused him to choke and cough violently, and tears also came out.

Qin Cang remained silent, turned around, and walked into the dilapidated house.

The room was dimly lit, with a beam of light filtering through a broken window and casting a sliver of dust. His eyes, however, darted like a hungry wolf, rapidly searching the ruins. He wasn't there to seek shelter; he was there to find something—a piece of intelligence, hidden here, which had been temporarily moved three days prior.

Sure enough, behind that earthen wall covered in vines, he found a small, tattered cloth bundle wrapped around the bottom of a blackened pottery jar, completely covered in mud. He scraped away the mud with his dagger, pulled out the bundle, and squeezed it hard, feeling the texture of paper inside.

He didn't open it immediately, but sat on the ground with his back against the wall and listened quietly for a few seconds to the sounds around him—the birdsong in the forest was peaceful, the wind was blowing as usual, and Xiao Hu was outside quietly coaxing Liu San to drink water; everything seemed normal.

Then he slowly unfolded the bundle of cloth.

Inside were several neatly folded sheets of paper, their surfaces coated with grease to prevent rain damage. Qin Cang laid them flat on his lap and, by the light, slowly turned the pages, his brow furrowing with each page he examined.

He saw the map, a rough sketch of the area's defense deployment, with several key points circled in red. One of them was a pass they had to cross next—marked as an "ambush point" on the map, with a line of small print next to it: "It is expected that a large number of troops will be mobilized to set up checkpoints in three days."

There were also several lists recording various material dispatches and sentry post personnel, and... an unsigned letter.

The letter was very cautious, seemingly detailing supply arrangements, but actually containing hidden codes. Qin Cang looked at the words: night salt, dry wheat, lime, orchid, gray hair... He quickly translated the meanings of these words in the intelligence system: night salt—gunpowder; dry wheat—ammunition; lime—patrol frequency; orchid—sentinel shift change; gray hair—the code name of the sentry deputy commander.

“That damn gray hair…” Qin Cang whispered, his voice as soft as the wind rustling through sand.

He recognized the codename "Grey Hair," an old adversary—cunning, ruthless, and extremely difficult to deal with. If, as the intelligence indicated, he would be transferred to the pass within three days to set up additional checkpoints, then their supply line would be effectively blocked in advance.

He took a slow breath and felt a tightness in his chest.

This intelligence, though valuable, brought not victory, but a series of more difficult choices. They had to change course immediately, or risk their lives to cross the pass ahead of schedule. But the problem was—Liu San's condition made it impossible for him to climb any mountain ridge, let alone conceal his whereabouts and evade patrols.

Qin Cang slowly folded the paper, wrapped it up again, and tucked it into his clothes. He never placed his hopes on any piece of paper, but now, this intelligence had become their only bargaining chip.

When he came out of the house again, Xiao Hu was changing Liu San's bandages. Liu San's complexion had improved, but he was leaning against the tree trunk with a gloomy look in his eyes.

"Did you find something?" he suddenly asked.

Qin Cang nodded, without going into details, only saying, "We must change the line immediately."

Liu San grinned: "I knew it. The look on your face meant something bad was coming."

Xiao Hu asked nervously, "Change routes? But we were planning to go this way, weren't we? Which way do we go now?"

Qin Cang narrowed his eyes: "The pass ahead will be reinforced with troops within three days, so we can't leave. But we can go around through that old valley to the east. It's twice as far, but at least we can avoid the main road."

Xiao Hu looked bewildered: "Doesn't that mean... we'll have to travel for two more days?"

"Yes," Qin Cang's tone was as sharp as a stone, "but I'm still alive."