Evenings in Fenglong'ao were always tranquil. After dinner, people seeking relief from the heat would step out of their homes, waving cattail-leaf fans as they clustered together to chat about neighborhood gossip and daily trivialities, while children crowded into neighbors' homes to watch television.
Because of this, children with a television at home were always proud. Of course, some families were less welcoming, complaining that too many visitors wore out the stools and drank too much water.
Just past dinnertime, the dining hall of the Han family rest stop was as lively as when a mobile cinema troupe visited the countryside in autumn; rows of stools were packed with people.
"Qingzi's dad," Mother Han called out suddenly from where she sat.
"What is it?" Han Youshan asked, stacking an empty beer crate and turning around.
"Come over and watch the news, quick! It says something about a giant snowman." Novelties were rare for village folk, and Mother Han looked at the television screen with an excited expression.
"Snowman? What in the world is a snowman?" Han Youshan thought to himself, *Since when does building a snowman make the news?* Wiping his hands, he walked over and said, "I was just wondering why Qingzi hasn't written back yet since he went back last time."
He stepped in front of the television and came to a stop beside his wife.
On the black-and-white television screen, the news anchor reported in all seriousness that the legend of a Yeti population on Xilang Peak had finally been confirmed by a scientific expedition in recent days.
"Experts assess that it is precisely due to the natural disasters and environmental changes that recently occurred on Xilang Peak that the Yetis have begun coming down the mountain over the past few days... Currently, relevant regions in our country are organizing evacuations while actively responding to ensure that losses to the lives and property of the people are minimized.
"At the same time, experts state that there is absolutely no need for panic..."
Three or four tall, blurry figures appeared on the screen amid wind and snow.
The small dining hall erupted into an uproar of gasps and startled cries.
Mother Han reached out, tugged at the hem of her husband's shirt, and said, "Look at that! How can they tell people not to panic? Things that huge, and running that fast—they're bound to be vicious as can be!"
"What's there to be afraid of?" Han Youshan was actually a little rattled at first glance, but he said, "We've got the army! Send the troops up, set up machine guns, and riddle them with lead. What kind of monster wouldn't die from that? And there's artillery too..."
His wife fell silent. As he spoke, Han Youshan looked down and found her gazing up at him, an unsettling look in her eyes.
"What's wrong?" Han Youshan asked with concern.
"They wouldn't send our Qingzi up there, would they?" Mother Han said anxiously. "Last time, that officer from the People's Armed Forces Department got drunk and said our Qingzi is most likely in a classified special forces unit. Otherwise, it wouldn't be easy to earn such great merits."
"Ah..." Han Youshan muttered in acknowledgment. He slowly raised his head, worry in his eyes, and looked back at the snowman on television... The creature looked truly terrifying. Knowing his Qingzi, who was too afraid to even go out to pee in the middle of the night, the boy would probably wet his pants.
Reaching out to pat his wife's shoulder, Han Youshan said, "No way. Our Qingzi is only a first-year recruit. It wouldn't be his turn no matter what. Besides, even if he really went, he'd have a gun. And our Qingzi is fast on his feet and quick to react. Remember how he used to circle behind snakes to catch them? He was so fast that even Father said he was extraordinary when he was still alive."
Their conversation reached the ears of the children watching television nearby.
"Whoa! Brother Qingzi is fighting snowmen! Rat-a-tat-tat-tat..."
"Pew-pew-pew..."
"Brother Qingzi is beating up monsters!"
***
A custom off-road jeep sat parked under the evening sunset. Its tall wheels and simple, rugged frame made it look capable of going anywhere.
Water, food, and gear were already loaded. Wen Jifei leaned back in the driver's seat, one hand resting on the steering wheel while the other plucked a cigarette from his mouth.
From just the right angle, it looked as if he were plucking the half-burned cigarette straight out of the red sunset on the horizon.
Han Qingyu, Wu Xu, and Rusty Sister walked abreast out of the sunset's light and shadows.
The grass was low, sharply outlining their silhouettes.
As the three walked forward, the weapons on their backs and in their hands caught the sunset, flashing with golden flecks of light like twinkling stars.
"How'd it go?" Wen Jifei asked loudly, brushing ash from his chest as he turned his head.
"They agreed to let us act independently," Han Qingyu said, looking up from an unfolded map he had been studying on the way.
"I knew they'd agree. Who do you think you are? You're Major The Qing!" Wen Jifei chuckled smugly. Once the others climbed into the vehicle, he looked back and asked, "Where to?"
Han Qingyu handed him the map.
"Nganglaring Tso. 'Tso' means lake. Right here. Command said the main force Squad 1777 is attached to was heading in this direction."
"Got it." Wen Jifei studied it carefully for a moment, closed his eyes to commit the approximate route to memory, and then folded the map, slipped it into the inner pocket of his autumn jacket, and started the engine.
There was no road, nor did they intend to look for one. The off-road jeep jolted and sped across the grasslands under the setting sun.
After driving like this for nearly three hours, they began encountering people. On two occasions, they spotted Azure squads escorting wounded soldiers and local residents out from deep within the plateau.
There were never many locals, and they were silent, clutching quilts and clothing to their chests with heads bowed. Only when the vehicle drove past would they turn to look... Seeing that the vehicle was heading deeper into danger, unease and concern crept into their eyes, and they murmured words of gratitude, caution, or blessings in their native language.
Along the entire way, no traces of Great Spike activity appeared.
"Visibility is getting pretty bad. Should we keep going?" Wen Jifei asked.
"Keep going. A crash won't kill us anyway," Han Qingyu said.
The off-road jeep drove on into the night, pressing continuously forward.
***
Iqbal was an ordinary D-grade private in an ordinary Pakistani Azure squad. At that moment, he was sprinting across the dark grass, not daring to run too fast or turn on any lighting gear.
Beside Iqbal was a family of three plateau locals: a husband, a wife, and their daughter of about five years old.
The sounds of battle were still audible here, though they had grown somewhat distant.
Back there were a blue-sheened Great Spike and a black-armored one. That was not something their squad could handle. According to standard operating procedure, they should have evacuated first and then called for elite squad reinforcement.
Right now, however, they could not retreat. Someone in the dark was using strange flames to lure Great Spikes, and those flames were falling right over their heads. His teammates had just fought desperately to carve out an escape route, allowing him and another teammate to lead this family of three away first.
His comrades were dying, and Iqbal's eyes welled with tears in the darkness.
The little girl began to cry from fear, and her parents spoke up to comfort her.
Iqbal hurried over, waving his hand while clamping the other over his own mouth. Unable to communicate through words, he used gestures. With tearful, tense, and even panicked eyes, he looked at the couple and shook his head vigorously, signaling them not to speak.
In Pakistan, shaking one's head was not a gesture of prohibition, but fortunately, Iqbal had learned about this difference. He even knew a few simple Chinese phrases, though they were strictly for use on the battlefield.
The plateau couple clamped their mouths shut.
Iqbal turned his gaze toward the little girl... He felt he should look gentle so as not to frighten her, so he lowered his hand and forced his lips into a smile. His mustache twitched as he shook his head and whispered, "Shh."
There were more than just Great Spikes here.
There was also a hostile force—at least thirty to forty people lurking in the dark. They did not actively emerge to kill, nor did they engage the Great Spikes, but they guided the Great Spikes and, from a distance, obstructed Azure personnel from escorting civilians out of the danger zone.
Logically speaking, they seemed to be using the locals to wear down and kill more trapped Azure squads.
Just moments ago, Iqbal and his teammate had intended to take the family in a different direction to break free of the battlefield, but those people had suddenly appeared.
His teammate had fallen right there.
The little girl obediently stifled her tears, her lips trembling. Iqbal turned and hunched over, signaling them to follow his lead and feel their way forward through the darkness.
They had walked for perhaps three minutes, or maybe five.
Rustling sounds came from both flanks behind them...
*It's over. They've found us and caught up.* Iqbal tightened his grip on his combat blade and pointed a direction for the family of three, gesturing for them to stay strong and keep moving forward if he were forced into combat.
Though in truth, he knew full well that they had almost no chance of making it out that way.
Just in the direction his blade was pointing... suddenly, the sound of a jeep engine drifted over from the distance.
Then came the sweeping beam of headlights.
The green grass on the ground came into view.
*Our people. Yes, it has to be our people! Those maggots hiding in the dark wouldn't dare drive a vehicle on an Azure battlefield!*
At that moment, Iqbal threw caution to the wind, straightened up, and shouted at the top of his lungs.
They had no way out anyway.
And if reinforcements had truly arrived, letting them know their location even a second earlier might mean a few more of his teammates could survive.
The jeep heard him. It drew closer, slowing down.
Iqbal eagerly led the family of three forward to meet it.
He saw the people stepping out of the jeep and the Huaxia Front uniforms they wore.
"Support?" Iqbal managed to recall a Chinese term after great effort.
One of them, carrying a black spear, nodded at him and looked on in silence.
"Great Spike! Blue-sheened! And hidden in the dark..." Iqbal gestured wildly, trying to explain in agitation, but as he spoke... the light in his eyes suddenly died.
He saw clearly: there was only one vehicle, and only four people.
"One, two, three, four." Iqbal counted them with his finger, using that gesture and the despair in his eyes to convey his thoughts.
"No good! Not enough of you! Blue-sheened Great Spike! Enemies, many!"
Iqbal tried to tell them how dangerous this place was. He pulled the family of three forward, wanting to shove them into the vehicle and urge everyone to flee immediately.
A figure stepped in front of him, stopping his hands, and asked, "Great Spikes? And something else, right?"
"Run! Run... Retreat!" Iqbal did not stop; he seemed anxious and frantic.
"I am the reinforcements," the other person said.
Iqbal could roughly understand the word "reinforcements." "But there are only four of you!" Iqbal pointed at their numbers once more.
"I am The Qing."
It was the first time Han Qingyu had ever addressed and introduced himself this way.
Iqbal froze completely, then raised his head, his eyes lighting up.
Chapter 305