"Haul in the nets!"
"Pull!"
"Up come the fish!"
"Heave-ho!"
"Don't slip on the ice!"
"Hold steady!"
In the dead of winter, driven by the rhythmic shouts of the head fisherman, earth-shaking roars erupted across the frozen river. Like a thousand-strong army charging into battle, the clamor was immense. Drumbeats thudded alongside the banks amid rousing cheers, creating an exceptionally lively scene.
When the crowd joined forces to drag out the winter fishing nets, everyone cheered and leaped for joy at the sight of the bursting catch.
Lian Youming squeezed into the crowd as well, dangling a large fish in his hand and soaking in the celebratory atmosphere.
His leave had come to an end; once the fish were divided, he would return with the villagers of Kaoshan Hamlet.
Qin Yuhu was also packed into the throng, a rare smile gracing his face.
As for Qin Hongxiu, she had stayed behind to look after the pregnant Shen Qinghong and missed out on the excitement.
Basket after basket of fish was carried up to the mule carts on the riverbank.
Lian Youming worked until his limbs grew sore, yet he reveled in the toil, feeling both exhausted and thrilled.
Beside him, Qin Yuhu panted heavily, completely oblivious to the bloody cuts the fishing net had carved into his palms.
Just as they were busy beyond measure, a middle-aged man wearing glasses and a cadre suit hurried up to Qin Yuhu, whispering with a grave expression, "Old Qin, there's trouble. That Miss Gong has disappeared."
The delight vanished instantly from Qin Yuhu's face. "What happened?"
The middle-aged man glanced at Lian Youming, then quickly pulled Qin Yuhu aside and lowered his voice. "Someone reported seeing a young man heading up to the mountain forest farm a few days ago. He looked an awful lot like a wanted criminal. Do you think..."
Lian Youming was busy loading fish and paid little attention to them. Seeing Qin Yuhu rushing off, he casually called out, "Uncle Qin, where are you going?"
Without looking back, Qin Yuhu replied, "I've got something to take care of. Go on with your work, don't wait for me."
Watching Qin Yuhu's receding back, Lian Youming thought nothing of it. After all, he had grown accustomed over the past few days to the man being out from dawn till dusk.
Amid the bustling clamor, Lian Youming worked right until noon before returning to the hamlet with the village party branch secretary.
Once back in Kaoshan Hamlet, he spent his days following Big Head Liu to identify medicinal herbs, helping dry and grind them. In the evenings, he studied the contents of the silk handkerchief as usual, particularly the recipes. He intended to commit them all to memory and then burn the handkerchief, as carrying it around on his person was always an inconvenience.
Furthermore, Lian Youming planned to find time to meet with that female educated youth named Yan Lingyun.
Yet on the evening of his third day back, as Lian Youming was helping Village Doctor Liu sift medicinal powder, two veteran hunters from Kaoshan Hamlet walked in with flintlock muskets slung over their backs, asking for a few medicinal plasters.
Seeing them covered from head to toe in frost and snow, with icicles dangling from their beards and hair like living snowmen, Lian Youming could not help chuckling and asking, "Why'd you go into the mountains in weather this cold?"
Numb from the cold, the two men rubbed their hands over the brazier and answered offhandedly, "Something terrible happened, that's why. The day of our winter catch, Director Qin of Qingshan Forest Farm led some men into the mountains and hasn't come out since. Several nearby villages are helping search the mountains... Hiss... freezing the life out of us..."
The smile on Lian Youming's face froze instantly. "Director Qin?"
"Aye, a fine man he is. Didn't he visit our hamlet just a while back?" The two old hunters failed to notice Lian Youming's stiffening expression. Taking their plasters, they pinched a few peanuts off the stove. "Sigh, in this freezing cold, for several villages to be combing the mountains together, things don't look good."
Seeing Lian Youming standing there speechless, the two found it odd. "What? The branch secretary didn't tell you?"
Lian Youming felt a lump in his throat. In a hoarse voice, he asked, "Why did he go into the mountains?"
One of the villagers, named Wang Jin, sighed. "Heard he went in to search for someone too, and even brought weapons. Who'd have thought he'd get trapped in there himself?"
"Searching for someone? Gong Wu'er."
The name leaped into Lian Youming's mind almost instantly.
Qin Yuhu had said before that the person was staying up on the mountain.
But why bring guns into the mountains?
Searching for someone?
Could Gong Wu'er have run into danger?
Thinking of Qin Yuhu's unknown fate, Lian Youming's mind fell into total disarray, his hands trembling.
Aunt Shen was on the verge of giving birth, and then there was Qin Hongxiu...
Lian Youming shot to his feet and headed straight for the door without a second thought.
Yet the moment he stepped outside, he was blocked.
The village party branch secretary, his face grim, was squatting by the roadside taking desultory puffs from a dry pipe, seemingly watching over the villagers returning to the hamlet. But the instant he caught sight of Lian Youming running out with bloodshot eyes, he sprang to his feet and urgently shouted to several young men of the hamlet, "Quick, pin him down!"
Lian Youming was swift on his feet, and the crowd gave chase behind him. Only after racing over two hundred meters was he tackled to the ground by several villagers heading back.
Seeing this, the others swarmed forward, pinning Lian Youming down beneath a flurry of hands and feet.
Looking down at the youth still struggling on the ground, the old branch secretary, clad in a sheepskin coat, let out a sigh. "Young lad, don't blame me. I know you're close to Director Qin, but this is no time to play the hero. It's frighteningly cold in those mountains right now, filled with virgin forest. Even the most seasoned hunters of the Greater Khingan Range wouldn't dare venture in, let alone a green lad like you."
"I want to go into the mountains!"
With bloodshot eyes, Lian Youming ground his teeth, the veins on his cheeks taut, yet despite throwing all his strength into it, he could not break free of the heavy hands pinning him down.
The old branch secretary shook his head. "Tie him up first. Guo Chuang, Xu Hui, you two are in charge of watching him. Don't leave his side even when he takes a piss or shit."
The two educated youth nearby, still bewildered by what was happening, hurriedly nodded.
Ignoring Lian Youming's shouts, the group bound his hands and feet and locked him inside a wooden shed used for storing firewood.
Lian Youming lay on a haystack, his nerves wound tight. He felt a surge of hot blood boiling up within him, his eyes so red they seemed ready to bleed.
After a long while, his body went limp, slumping weakly against the ground. In his heart, he prayed to every god and Buddha he could think of, and finally, to one more name.
"Gong Wu'er."
The moment that name crossed his mind, Lian Youming's thoughts cleared.
If Qin Yuhu had entered the mountains to find Gong Wu'er, what kind of danger had she encountered?
To place an internal martial artist like Gong Wu'er in peril, the threat could only be someone of the same caliber.
Did more people go up the mountain?
His gaze narrowed slightly, and his mind immediately turned to the secret guarded by the Old Man Who Guards the Mountain.
That earth house.
"Hoo!"
Exhaling a long breath of turbid air, Lian Youming pushed himself upright.
No.
He had to go see for himself.
If Qin Yuhu was still alive, fine. But if something terrible had happened to him...
Lian Youming's eyes hardened, a vicious anger quietly surging within his chest. Then none of you bastards will get away with it.
Just then, the wooden door pushed open. Someone walked in carrying a tray of food—an acquaintance, the female educated youth who had been issued a rifle alongside him at the forest farm. "Comrade student, have some food. Don't be stubborn with yourself."
Seeing that Lian Youming remained silent, she did not leave either, instead launching into ideological counseling. She rambled from history and philosophy to the spirit of the Long March, then wound around to revolutionary martyrs and the years of the War of Resistance, going on and on.
Burning with anxiety, Lian Youming could not stomach a word of it. He cast her a sharp, vicious glare, causing the girl's eyes to redden before she tossed her two braided pigtails and ran out crying.
Looking at the half-open wooden door, Lian Youming puffed his cheeks and sucked in a deep breath. As two toad croaks resonated within his chest and abdomen, he summoned every ounce of strength. His arms twisted and ground against each other like winches, heedless of the skin tearing on his wrists, until he snapped the knot clean apart.
With his hands free, Lian Youming reached to his lower back, drew out a military dagger, and swiftly slashed the hemp rope binding his feet.
Dusk had deepened, and the north wind howled. Taking a deep breath, he slipped into the twilight without hesitation.
Hearing the startled shouts behind him, Lian Youming sped up. His stamina had always far surpassed his peers, and now, driving his Toad Fishing Skill, he ran without pause like an arrow loosed from a bow, quickly leaving the pursuing villagers far behind.
"Stop chasing me."
Fortunately, it did not snow that night.
Relying on his memory of coming down the mountain, Lian Youming sprinted along the mountain trail.
Kaoshan Hamlet sat at the foot of the forest farm's mountain, but as the saying went, a distant mountain could run a horse to death. The rolling sea of forested peaks looked close, but climbing them took tremendous effort.
Lian Youming could not afford to care. Saving a life was like fighting a fire; holding his breath, he charged up the mountain with everything he had.
Though darkness slowly fell, the trail had been broken, sparing him from losing his bearings.
After running furiously for over an hour, his legs had gone nearly numb, and his lungs felt ready to burst.
Yet seeing the mountain looming right before him, a flash of joy crossed his face as he dove into the familiar trail.
The mountain was pitch-black. Faint moonlight filtered through the gnarled branches and broken boughs, speckling the forest floor. Frost began to form, the thin snow yet unmelted, and a bone-chilling cold quietly spread.
Lian Youming moved between light and shadow, dredging up memories from going into the mountains, rushing uphill without pause.
At the same time, he pondered seriously: if his suspicions were correct, what kind of person could push an imperial martial artist like Gong Wu'er into peril?
Strangely enough, an image of a fiendish, sallow-skinned face sprang to Lian Youming's mind.
That man is in the Northeast too, isn't he?
By the time he reached the mountainside, Lian Youming could run no further. He crouched on the ground, panting heavily, his violently heaving chest shuddering like a blacksmith's bellows.
Yet worrying for Qin Yuhu's safety, he took only a few breaths before hurrying onward toward the peak.
The search parties might have already checked this place, but Lian Youming had reason to believe that something unknown remained hidden within those earth houses.
He had to see it with his own eyes to be certain.
At last.
Lian Youming reached the summit and returned to the forest farm.
Without pausing for a moment, he made straight for the earth houses of the Old Man Who Guards the Mountain.
Especially the central one.
Lian Youming recalled that when those men had besieged the Old Man Who Guards the Mountain, they seemed bent on forcing their way into that very room.
The earth house was hollow and dark, empty save for the blue bricks covering the floor.
Lian Youming furrowed his brows and turned his gaze downward almost instinctively. Panting wildly, he began pacing the floor, stomping down with all his might with every step.
If the secret was buried, it had to be underground.
After pacing two full circles, his eyes suddenly flickered. Moving his right foot aside, he stared hard at a depressed blue brick.
Though he could not see clearly in the dark, he had felt it just then.
Beneath this spot was completely hollow.
"Hah!"
Squinting, Lian Youming flipped his right hand, gripped his military dagger, and stomped down viciously.
Clatter!
Several blue bricks sank together like a trapdoor.
Lian Youming felt himself plunge downward; when he regained his balance, he found himself standing on a flight of stone steps.
Cold wind blew chilly behind him.
Pressing against the wall, Lian Youming stepped cautiously inside.
Yet only a few paces in, a faint smell of blood rushed to meet him.
Lian Youming's expression changed drastically as the toe of his foot bumped against something.
Drawing in his breath, he slowly crouched down, raising his trihedral military dagger with one hand in a forward guard while carefully reaching out with the other.
The moment he made contact, his heart leaped into his throat. It was a corpse, cold as iron, clearly dead for some time, and its arms seemed to be clutching something.
Feeling around briefly, his eyes flickered. His dagger flicked out quickly in the dark, and his left hand grabbed hold—a Type 56 submachine gun was now in his grasp.
Without the slightest hesitation, Lian Youming almost instinctively flipped out the folding spike bayonet, affixed it beneath the barrel, and shook the gun; the bayonet snapped straight into place, locking onto the Type 56.
Behind him, the blue bricks at the entrance slowly slid back, sealing shut once more.
Staring into the pitch-black, bottomless passage, Lian Youming raised the weapon and crept deeper along the wall in a half-crouch.
Needless to say, a fierce battle had occurred here. He did not know whether anyone inside was still alive, or if Gong Wu'er and her mysterious adversary had yet to leave.
Furthermore, Lian Youming had grown increasingly uneasy.
Even if the owner of this gun was not Qin Yuhu, it was certainly one of the fighters who had accompanied him. With that man dead here, had Qin Yuhu also become a cold corpse?
Lian Youming dared not dwell on the thought.
Chills blew continuously from behind, like an invisible pair of hands pushing him forward.
The further down he went, the thicker the lingering stench of blood became, coiling like an evil dragon, constantly provoking the vicious fury simmering in his chest.
Evidently, the men who had come with Qin Yuhu had indeed all died here.
Yet the rationality deep inside Lian Youming suppressed his restless heart.
The moment he stepped off the final stair, Lian Youming abruptly caught his breath—for amid the dead, empty blackness, faint breathing could be heard.
Someone is still alive?
Lian Youming felt a surge of joy and was about to move, but he slowly pulled back his half-extended right foot.
Something was wrong.
These men had died here, proving his guess correct.
If so, who was the survivor?
If it was Qin Yuhu or one of his companions, then Gong Wu'er should be alive too. And if she was alive, why hadn't she saved them?
Moreover, this breath was weak in the extreme, bearing no resemblance to an internal martial artist, meaning it could not belong to the mysterious enemy.
Lian Youming's mind shook violently as another possibility struck him: Gong Wu'er and the mysterious adversary were still here and had never left. Perhaps they were locked in a stalemate, just like the Old Man Who Guards the Mountain and the four fiends of the White Lotus Sect.
With this thought, Lian Youming considered retreating.
If he could back out, he could fetch help; sealing the entrance would ensure the enemy could not escape, even on wings.
Yet listening to that feeble breathing—what if it was Qin Yuhu?
The person was clearly hanging by a thread. Every second counted. He had to save them, even at the cost of his own life.
However, almost the instant Lian Youming stepped into the chamber, a gruesome, terrifying killing intent locked firmly onto him like an arrow notched to a bowstring. Pointed from across the void, it gave the impression that the moment he retreated, ten thousand arrows would fly, ending his life on the spot.
Though invisible, this killing intent made Lian Youming feel as if he had plunged into an icy abyss, sending a chill through his entire body.
They really haven't left.
Lian Youming swallowed slowly, then his gaze turned ruthless, having made his decision.
Raising the barrel, he pulled the trigger amid the dead silence.
Bang!
The gunshot roared, the bullet striking downward and instantly igniting lamp oil on the floor.
Flames spread in an instant, banishing the darkness before Lian Youming's eyes.
Revealed in the firelight, beside several corpses sprawled in pools of blood, were two standing figures.
One was Gong Wu'er.
A thin streak of crimson blood seeped from the corner of her mouth as she leaped toward him through the air.
The other was a young man with a sallow face.
His expression was hideous, resembling an evil demon, his teeth bared in what looked like a grin. Amid the shifting light and shadow, he seemed to transform into a humanoid mountain demon; kicking off the ground, he sprang into the air, swooping as if in flight. Concealed in darkness, he seemed to race against the expanding firelight, vying for supremacy.
Fast—far too fast.
Lian Youming only caught a glimpse of a fleeting shadow bursting from the dark. In the next instant, the figure was already mere paces away. Driven by the intent to kill in a single strike, his ape-like arm reached out and the five fingers of his right hand hooked inward, gouging several claw marks into the blue bricks wherever his fingertips grazed as he pounced straight at him.
So fast—striking with sheer fury and ferocity, yet completely noiseless.
Lian Youming's face went pale, but his eyes turned venomous. Out of the corner of his eye, he had already spotted Qin Yuhu collapsed on the ground, his life or death unknown.
Da-da-da...
Faced with imminent death, the muzzle spit tongues of flame.
"Die!"
Chapter 18