Chapter 975 - Ambush
"This isn't the time to worry about face." Uncle He observed his gloomy expression and offered consolation. "Getting out of this dangerous place quickly is what matters."
Min Zhanlian nodded. Their situation had grown decidedly unfavorable—on one side, the Nanwuliang Sect pursued and sought to intercept them; on the other, that Daoist might also be seeking revenge. Even if the Daoist did nothing personally, the Zhuang family were local magnates who probably wouldn't let the matter rest.
Whichever side found them first, nothing good would come of it. Min Zhanlian no longer wished to be entangled in the conflict between the Daoist and the sect. Inviting endless trouble for a few hundred taels of silver simply wasn't worth it.
If they could reach Jining and board a southbound grain tribute boat—first, tribute boats were government vessels; second, the tribute boat soldiers mostly followed the Luo Sect—even with all the Nanwuliang Sect's abilities, they wouldn't dare provoke these two formidable powers.
But now, without horses, trudging through muddy roads under the scorching sun, they couldn't even cover seven or eight li in an hour. At this pace, even without roadblocks, they would be exhausted by the time they reached Jining. Anyone who wanted to deal with them could do so with ease.
"We need to find horses," Min Zhanlian said. "If we can't find any, we'll hire sedan chairs at the next town—and we'll travel in disguise."
At the next town, they encountered something even better. The scouts discovered twelve horses and four mules.
The horses and mules were resting outside a tea stall. The scouts made a circuit and quickly gathered information.
The animals belonged to a group of people of unknown origin, heading toward Yizhou. All men, mostly under twenty years old. Every one of them was fit and agile—clearly trained martial artists. The leader appeared to be a sturdy man around thirty who also looked skilled. Obviously not ordinary merchants or travelers. Their baggage also carried swords.
"Who are they?" Min Zhanlian asked. Traveling so conspicuously on the road, they were either government people or jianghu types. Moreover, southern Shandong was currently in post-disaster conditions—ordinary people wouldn't travel unless absolutely necessary. Whether to make a move required careful consideration. Provoking the wrong people would invite self-destruction.
Jianghu heroes might pride themselves on chivalry and "swift vengeance" and "righteous deeds," but most jianghu folk followed the principle of "don't fight power." The government was the greatest "power"—provoke them and the consequences proved endless.
"Can't determine their background," the scout reported clearly. "They don't act like government people. Shouldn't be Dongchang or Jinyiwei, nor yamen constables."
"Escort agency people?"
"Doesn't seem like it either. Escort agencies would fly their banner; if running a secret escort, they'd be too conspicuous." The scout spoke quietly, "This group is strange. Except for a designated person handling transactions, the rest don't speak at all. Whether standing or sitting, they hold themselves with great discipline—actually quite official-looking."
"Do they have martial arts skills?"
"They seem to have trained in boxing and kicking, but they're definitely not practitioners." The scout was quite certain.
The female scout suddenly arrived and added: "This group are southerners!" She said, "Just now I heard some of them talking—the accent seemed to be from the Guangdong area."
Min Zhanlian didn't hesitate: "Take them out."
Though the other side's origins remained unclear, they urgently needed horses. Normally he would never make a move before determining an opponent's identity, but now he was in a hurry, and knowing they were from Guangdong made him less wary.
"We'll ambush at the small hill outside town and attack directly when they pass."
"Nine of us, twelve of them..." Uncle He, ever cautious, raised the concern.
Min Zhanlian said: "No problem. We ambush them and catch them off guard, then rush in. At least eighty percent chance of success."
His subordinates, each and every one, possessed dart-throwing skills. Throwing darts together from thirty paces could take down at least half of them. Min Zhanlian was no saint—his darts were poisoned. Even a scratch meant certain death. Then when weapons clashed, he was confident his people's martial arts were superior.
"Everyone move quickly. Swift and decisive—no survivors. Strip the bodies and dump them in the woods." He instructed his subordinates.
This was a disaster zone with corpses everywhere along the roads and in the fields. These were outsiders passing through—their deaths wouldn't concern any officials.
Ye Mengyan was leading a squad from the Special Reconnaissance Company from Linqing toward Yizhou.
Going to Yizhou was an emergency assignment that had arisen suddenly. Though the Special Reconnaissance Company had already deployed two-thirds of its combat squads to Hong Kong, awaiting orders before Operation Engine commenced, Ye Mengyan's squad had been forward-deployed to Hangzhou, ready to respond to any sudden situation.
Unexpectedly, nothing happened in Hangzhou—instead, Daoist Zhang heading to Yizhou had run into trouble.
After receiving Zhang Yingchen's telegram, the Operation Engine Forward Command in Hong Kong and the Hangzhou Station had exchanged multiple messages. The final decision was to immediately dispatch a special operations team to Yizhou to support Zhang Yingchen. First priority: ensure his personal safety. Second: if circumstances favored Zhang Yingchen's missionary work, use swift and intense action to eliminate the Yizhou secret society forces and absorb their organization.
Upon receiving telegrams from Bei Wei and Forward Command, Ye Mengyan immediately departed from Hangzhou. As arranged by Qiwei Station, they boarded a dedicated vessel bound for Shandong.
The reason for selecting Ye Mengyan's squad was that it was the most senior in the entire Special Reconnaissance Company. The members were the first among the first cohort—the core personnel had the longest training time, the best combat skills, and were extremely reliable. They had participated in "territory claiming" operations in Guangzhou and surrounding areas, using violent means to protect the Guangzhou Station and Qiwei Escort Agency's operations in the Pearl River Delta, eliminating "dangerous" competitors. Thus they possessed considerable experience operating in enemy-occupied territory.
Newly formed squads generally only trained and operated on Hainan Island. Only the most reliable squads were dispatched to "enemy-occupied territory" for combat missions.
Because the Yizhou situation seemed rather urgent, Ye Mengyan personally led the advance squad, traveling day and night to arrive first.
Horses and mules had been prepared by the Qiwei Station's Jining branch. Weapons, ammunition, provisions—everything needed was loaded on the mules, allowing them to cover over eighty li per day.
Ye Mengyan rode on horseback—he had grown accustomed to riding now, though learning had come at a painful price. As a middle school student who had been only seventeen on D-Day, his face now wore an arrogant, protagonist-like expression. Of course, he had the right to display such confidence. This former middle school student, who back then couldn't lift a hundred-jin rice sack, who had never engaged in real combat outside of online games and fantasies, who on D-Day had been carrying a backpack full of rulers, textbooks, and compasses—after killing his first native with a rifle, he had suffered nightmares for a week.
Now he was a true "executioner with blood-stained hands," accustomed to using pistols, rifles, daggers, or occasionally grenades to eliminate everyone "harmful to the great cause" or "subject to disposal in the name of the Senate"—even if they were women, old people, or children.
Unlike other Elders who harbored doubts about their "political status" and sometimes privately discussed systemic issues, worrying about nation, Elders, and people alike, Ye Mengyan was infinitely loyal to the current system, infinitely loyal to the Executive Committee. He especially maintained heartfelt devotion to Chairman Wen, Supervisor Ma, and Wu De—for him, these three were the embodiment of the Senate, and also the embodiment of his ideals.
Now he galloped along this road, braving the blazing sun to "carry out the Senate's will," without the slightest hesitation. "You must all die!"—this was the motto on the unit emblem of the Special Reconnaissance Company Headquarters' First Squad that he led.
He noticed the terrain growing rugged—the road narrowed, with rolling hills on both sides. Suddenly he raised one hand while reining in his horse with the other. The Qiwei escort serving as guide immediately rode over.
"What's up ahead?"
"This place is called Two-Man Slope," the guide said. Though he spoke Shandong dialect, he was actually from Southern Zhili. A former escort who specialized in running "secret escorts" to various Shandong locations, he had been recruited into Qiwei just last year.
"Two-Man Slope?" Ye Mengyan carefully examined the terrain. The official road had a steep uphill turn here, with low dirt mounds on both sides covered in woods. It was an excellent ambush spot.
Though he didn't know who might ambush him, operating in enemy territory demanded maximum caution. He waved: "Zhao Kai, go check!"
Zhao Kai was also a Qiwei escort—his martial arts were mediocre, and he had never found a good position. He had only scraped by working as an assistant guard. Fortunately, Qiwei had no restrictions and accepted anyone willing to work hard and prove reliable, so he had finally landed this golden opportunity. He was at his most eager.
Zhao Kai acknowledged and immediately spurred his horse forward. After climbing the slope, instead of taking the road directly, he rode toward the woods.
Min Zhanlian saw the opponent wasn't falling for it—this small grove wasn't large enough to conceal people effectively. The moment anyone entered the woods, they would notice something amiss. If fighting broke out and the opponents escaped on horseback, he wouldn't get the horses.
Unable to think further, he immediately nodded to Uncle He. Three darts from his hand flew viciously at Zhao Kai.
The distance between them was only four or five zhang. Zhao Kai screamed and fell from his horse, struck by the darts.
"Grab the horses!" Min Zhanlian shouted and was the first to charge out. The situation was now unfavorable—they had lost the initiative. They had to take down all opponents immediately while also preventing the horses from bolting in fright. Swift action was essential.
Min Zhanlian burst from the woods, wrist flicking as a long sword slid from its sheath. Man and blade became one, shooting straight toward Ye Mengyan—this young man was clearly the leader.
(End of Chapter)