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

Liu San gritted his teeth, his lips trembling: "As long as... I can still hear your voices, I won't die."

These words pierced Qin Cang's heart like a sharp blade. He gripped Liu San's hand tightly, silently vowing that at this moment, their lives were intertwined and could never be separated.

Outside the cave, the enemy's voices grew closer, iron boots crunched through tree branches, and the cold glint of gun barrels flashed in the night. Qin Cang's eyes were fixed on the cave entrance, cold sweat trickling down his forehead, yet he dared not relax for a moment.

"Weasel, hold this place, I'm going to scout," Qin Cang ordered in a low voice, his eyes filled with cold determination.

"Aren't you afraid of exposing yourself?" the weasel asked in surprise.

"We're scared, but this is the only way now." Qin Cang turned to look at the unconscious Liu San. "We can't let them find us."

He slipped quietly out of the cave entrance and disappeared into the darkness, his heart pounding as if it would explode. Every step he took was a matter of life and death, his ears perked up like a hunting dog, trying to catch the slightest sound.

Countless thoughts raced through Qin Cang's mind—had the enemy discovered their tracks? Were there more ambushes? If they were surrounded, where was their escape route? His heart was breaking, but he couldn't show it.

Enveloped in darkness, his body moved with extreme caution, yet it carried the hopes and lives of everyone. He dared not make a sound, dared not be careless, for fear that the enemy would descend at any moment.

Step by step forward, a cold flame ignited in Qin Cang's eyes. He knew that only by keeping a close watch on the enemy, only by remaining undetected in the darkness, could they possibly escape this deadly place alive.

He held his breath, his body almost becoming one with the earth, his palm tightly gripping the gleaming dagger. His heart tightened, his blood churned. He knew he was one breath away from death.

Aside from the chirping of insects and the occasional indistinct footsteps, there was nothing else in his ears. His eyes, however, remained fixed on the few people around the campfire, and he could even discern the ferocity or weariness on their faces. In these past few days, he had learned to see through the darkness to people's hearts, to see the murderous intent, and to see the slightest hidden flaws.

"It's a trap upstairs; they're waiting for me," Qin Cang thought to himself. He didn't act rashly, but instead avoided the ruins of the building, instead moving in the opposite direction, silently circling around it and hiding behind the inconspicuous earthen slope. As it turned out, his intuition saved him time and time again. Although the group appeared loosely organized, they had more than one outpost. The firelight was merely bait; a more hidden killing intent lurked in the darkness, waiting for him.

A barely perceptible sneer curled at the corner of his lips, a dangerous glint in his eyes: "Trying to lure me in? You're still too green."

He slowly regulated his breathing, his ears perked up, catching any sound in the distance. He knew he couldn't rush things; one wrong step could mean total defeat. Enduring the darkness was torture, but for Qin Cang, surviving these past years had relied on a patience colder than a venomous snake. He closed his eyes, his mind rapidly rehearsing each step to come:

The enemy's deployment is roughly clear: they're hiding upstairs, setting up sentries on the perimeter, and using firelight as bait. The only way out... might be that not-yet-completely-sealed depression in the northwest.

"Liu San won't last long; we can't delay any longer." Thinking this, his fingers tightened slightly, his knuckles making a barely audible cracking sound. He couldn't wait until dawn. Although the enemy was vigilant at night, their manpower would be even tighter during the day, making the chances even slimmer.

Just then, he suddenly heard a very slight sound beside him, as if someone had stepped on a very thin, withered leaf.

"They're here." Qin Cang's eyes turned cold, and his figure slowly recoiled, almost becoming a stagnant pool. In the darkness, he was like a bowstring ready to be drawn at any moment, desperately suppressing his murderous impulse.

Two figures emerged silently from the dense forest, their movements agile and cautious, the guns at their waists gleaming coldly. Clearly, these were enemy patrolmen on the outskirts; they had sensed something amiss and were beginning to probe their way in.

"They're like a persistent ghost." Qin Cang sneered inwardly, but remained unmoved, patiently waiting.

Two enemy soldiers were no more than five steps away from him. Qin Cang's breathing seemed to have stopped; he could even hear their heartbeats and the faint sound of their shoes crushing the mud. In the darkness, everything was stretched to its limit.

“...There seems to be some movement over here.” A deep voice sounded, wary.

"Don't be nervous, it's probably a stray dog." The other man was clearly unconcerned, his old rifle slung loosely over his shoulder, obviously not focused on patrol.

The opportunity quietly arrived in that instant.

Qin Cang sprang up like a ghost, and in the blink of an eye, a dagger had already pierced the throat of the careless man. Before the blood could even gush out, the man was dragged into the darkness and thrown into the dirt, where he struggled silently.

The other patrolman was terrified and was about to call for help when he suddenly felt a cold wind rise behind him, and a sinister killing intent rushed towards him. The moment his finger touched the trigger, a hand firmly locked his throat.

"Ah—" A faint and suppressed scream drowned in the night, and then everything fell silent.

Qin Cang slowly stood up, the dagger in his hand still warm. He gently patted his chest, suppressing the growing murderous intent and excitement within him. Killing the enemy was easy, but cleaning up the mess was difficult. He dragged the corpse deep into the dense forest, covering it with a thick layer of fallen leaves, and only stopped after confirming that nothing was missing.

"Continue to detour." He quickly calculated the direction in his mind and lowered his body again.

To the northwest, the forest was denser and the ground muddy, precisely the blind spot he had hoped for. Though the enemy was cunning, they couldn't possibly cover everything. In the darkness, he moved like a fish, silently approaching that glimmer of hope.

"Weasel, Liu San... wait for me." He murmured to himself, but his steps became more and more determined.

A wild beast's low growl suddenly echoed from the depths of the forest. Qin Cang paused briefly, then a cold smile crept across his face. His enemies thought the wilderness could trap him, but little did they know that he had dealt with this gloomy place since childhood, understanding the night better than they did, and knowing how to forage for food in the cracks of death. He pressed himself against the mud wall, slowly climbing up the undulating terrain, until the outline of the hidden depression gradually emerged.

He secretly breathed a sigh of relief; after all, his escape route had not been completely blocked.

Suddenly, he heard a series of light footsteps approaching from afar. Qin Cang paused, his eyes flashing with cold light once more. They weren't patrolmen, but more elite pursuers. Their steps were steady, their eyes sharp; they were clearly no ordinary people. Although they were fewer in number, their aura was far more dangerous. In fact, he could sense the murderous intent lurking deep within the darkness, its jaws already opening wide.

"As expected, they had a backup plan." Qin Cang's heart sank, and a bead of cold sweat appeared on his forehead.