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

He finally caught up with them.

But just as he was about to call out, he suddenly stopped.

Because behind that figure, there was another, even more slender figure—holding a gun, standing ramrod straight.

Those are not their people.

Qin Cang slowly pulled the trigger, his eyes like lightning, locking onto the unfamiliar figure inch by inch.

He was an enemy agent, standing motionless in the dim shadows of the rocks, half his face swallowed by the night, while the other side revealed a slightly upturned corner of his mouth, as if victory was already in his grasp.

“They’ve already buried them.” Qin Cang’s heart was as still as water, and he pressed it down heavily. “It’s not about capturing guerrillas, it’s about infiltration.”

The figure was positioned perfectly, hidden in the blind spot of the guerrilla fighter who was adjusting his weapon. The moment the fighter turned around or exchanged supplies with others, the agent could swiftly draw his gun and stab him in the throat, creating chaos. Most fatally, the guerrillas were completely unaware that their camp had been secretly infiltrated by the enemy; they were still joking, cleaning their guns, and talking quietly.

An inexplicable anger surged within Qin Cang, but he did not fire rashly. Too far, unstable, the wind speed changing direction, the angle limited—if he missed, the spy would immediately escape, drawing other enemies in. He took a deep breath and slowly moved to the right, his soles gently pressing on a stone slab. With each inch of movement, he first probed the path, tested the pressure, and controlled the sound with his fingertips.

The night was too dark, his breathing too rapid, his heart pounding like a Hummer crashing against his chest. He couldn't alert the man, or the whole situation would collapse. It was a veteran; judging from his posture, the looseness of his hands, and the slight hunch in his back, the man was clearly not a novice infiltration mission. He was waiting.

He was waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

"Closer." Qin Cang gritted his teeth, almost hearing the grinding sound of his own teeth grinding together.

He knew he couldn't back down. If he gave up now, not only would the team be completely destroyed, but Xiao Hu's clues, intelligence, and all the previous plans would also vanish. The child had risked his life to say "the item was brought back"; he couldn't let that life be wasted.

He touched a damp stone, slowly tossed it out, and threw it further behind the spy.

"Pfft."

It was a very faint sound of water, like someone accidentally kicking off the vein of a leaf that was hiding rainwater.

The spy sprang to attention, his eyes darting around as he leaned forward. In that instant, Qin Cang abruptly stood up, gun already raised and aimed.

"boom!"

The shot rang out like thunder in the valley.

The bullet whistled through the night, striking the spy squarely between the eyebrows. He fell backward, his eyes still focused on his investigation, but now unfocused. Blood from his neck sprayed like a plume of black smoke onto the rocks, then quickly dried in the night wind.

The guerrillas were in an uproar.

Who fired the shot?

"what's the situation?"

"Is there an enemy?"

The sound of hurried footsteps rushed toward the direction where the body had fallen. Some people had already begun to search the body, while others, carrying guns, began to guard the perimeter of the woods.

"It's me!" Qin Cang shouted, raising his hand and slowly rising from the edge of the cliff. "Don't shoot, it's me!"

Several familiar figures finally appeared: it was Lao Wu, along with Skinny Monkey, Erxi, and several other team members. They recognized Qin Cang and exclaimed in unison:

"It's Brother Cang!"

"Why is he here?"

Old Wu strode forward, grabbed Qin Cang with one hand, glanced at the corpse not far away, and his face immediately darkened: "You found it early. A few seconds later, we would all be finished."

"Is that person alone?" Erxi asked, leaning closer, still clutching his gun, his expression wary.

“Not just.” Qin Cang shook his head, his tone cold. “They’re burying people everywhere, not just one. There are ambushes all around the ravine. They’re not planning to escort any supplies. They’re setting up a net to keep us all here.”

Everyone's expression changed drastically, and the air seemed to freeze.

“If I’m not mistaken,” Qin Cang continued, lowering his voice, “they will flank us from three directions at dawn tomorrow. Dongpo’s carriage is a decoy, as is the fake corpse hidden behind Nanyan. Their real attack will take place before dawn when we are most exhausted.”

Old Wu frowned: "How did you figure that out?"

Qin Cang looked up at the sky: "The moon's position has changed, the wind direction has changed, but the smoke from the carriage has always been blowing in one direction—which means there was no fire at all, it was fake smoke. They deliberately made us misjudge the wind speed and direction, and... and the footprints in the camp, I found that they had been stepped on later, they were all hard shoe prints, obviously military boots disguised."

Skinny Monkey spat, "These bastards really know how to play games."

“They’ve been preparing for this for a long time.” Qin Cang looked up, a cold glint in his eyes. “This is a meticulously planned hunt. If we don’t break through before dawn, we’ll all die here.”

There was no more laughter in the air, and the night outlined the sharp angles of everyone's face.

Old Wu lowered his voice and said, "You decide the route, and we'll follow your instructions."

Qin Cang nodded, his gaze sweeping over the crowd. Every face bore the marks of exhaustion and tension, yet also a suppressed ferocity. He knew that these men, even on their last breath, could still tear their enemies' throats.

"There's a dry ditch over the cliff to the southwest. Nobody goes there, and the enemy won't defend against it. But the terrain there is complicated. If it collapses, we're done for."

“We can set up a smokescreen,” Erxi said. “I’ll take three men to the east side to make a commotion, so the enemy will think we’re still attacking the wagon line as originally planned.”

"I'll go," Skinny Monkey chimed in. "I'm fast. I can run like a ghost with my men and buy some time."

Qin Cang nodded, then said in a low voice, "Everyone, pack your gear immediately. We'll assemble in the southwest in five minutes. Travel light, bring three days' worth of rations, and discard any excess."

After saying that, he turned and left, disappearing into the shadows on the other side of the camp. He had one more thing to do.

He wanted to personally inspect the broken gully in the southwest.

He didn't trust maps or rumors; he wanted to see for himself that the road wasn't blocked and was still passable.

The mountain wind grew stronger, and the soil on the edge of the cliff was as loose as rootless turf. He trod carefully, probing each step with a rope and a hook. He was like a wolf, traversing the edge of the hunting ground, sniffing out every unsettling scent in the air.

Qin Cang stood quietly at the edge of the cliff, one hand on the rope around his waist, the other pressed against his chest. His eyes were cold, but he couldn't hide a faint anxiety between his brows.

He shouldn't have been distracted. This was a critical moment for reconnaissance, a time when lives hung in the balance. He should have focused on surveying the terrain, confirming the feasibility of the evacuation route, and checking for signs of falling rocks or collapses in the cliff. But instead, the image of Xiaohu kept popping into his mind.