Chapter 24: Returning Overnight…

As soon as the effect of the painkiller wore off, Zhang Cheng, who had just been energized by making it out of the mountains on time, suddenly wilted. Beads of sweat the size of soybeans poured out like tap water, and he looked as though he could barely hold himself up.

“Dahai, why do I feel like this injury hurts even more than it did this morning?”

Was this really the same person who had been trudging through the forest earlier? In the morning, although he had struggled to walk, he hadn’t been in this state. Could it be that he simply couldn’t endure the pain anymore? No, that was impossible. He was a seasoned soldier with strong willpower—he wouldn’t give in so easily.

“Of course it hurts more. You’ve been walking the whole day—how could your wounds not worsen?”

This wasn’t a matter of perseverance. After a full day of trekking through mountainous terrain, Zhang Cheng’s injuries had worsened from strain upon strain. And now that they’d finally arrived at their destination, the tension in his heart relaxed all at once… and everything surged up at once.

“Brother Zhang, it’s okay. We’ve made it to the end. Just have your family send you to the hospital as soon as possible. How much farther do we have to go? Can you still walk? If not, should I call someone to help?”

They needed to wrap things up quickly. The day had been exhausting beyond words—over a dozen hours with nerves on edge the entire time. Even with all his skills, Fang Dahai was physically and mentally drained.

Zhang Cheng wanted to walk the final stretch himself, but unfortunately, he just couldn’t do it. Thinking back to everything Fang Dahai had done along the way, he finally let go of his wariness and said:

“It’s not far—less than five miles. But at this point… I don’t think I can make it. Sorry to trouble you, but could you help me call someone? Go straight ahead, and when you reach the fork, turn north. After less than a mile, you’ll come to a small village. There, ask for the village chief, Jia Dabiao—he’s my cousin’s uncle. Tell him what’s going on and have him bring some men to carry me back.”

So simple? Isn’t this pickup arrangement a little too casual?

But that wasn’t Fang Dahai’s place to question. There was no need to overthink it—after all, he was just lending a hand. It wasn’t like he was someone important in all this.

With that thought, Fang Dahai readily agreed. He helped Zhang Cheng sit under a tree and set his own basket down beside him before hurrying off in the direction Zhang Cheng had pointed out.

When Fang Dahai reached the village, found the chief, mentioned Zhang Cheng’s name, and explained the situation, the chief immediately gathered several villagers, grabbed a stretcher, and rushed back with him without hesitation. At that moment, something clicked in Fang Dahai’s mind—and he began to understand why the arrangements had been so simple.

Just from the village chief’s swift and confident reaction—how he didn’t even pause to think before summoning help—this village was likely a fortified stronghold of sorts.

Delivering a message to a village like this? Nothing to worry about. With this kind of manpower, what danger could there possibly be? Frankly, if Fang Dahai had shown any suspicious behavior, these people could have taken him down in minutes.

Since he was traveling light both ways, the entire ten-mile trip didn’t take much time. By the time the group reached Zhang Cheng, fussed over him, and helped him onto the stretcher, the setting sun still bathed the sky in warm orange light.

Fang Dahai looked up at the sky and estimated the distance from here to the capital. His heart finally let out a sigh of relief.

Luckily, he hadn’t lost too much time. He should still be able to get home by tomorrow morning. Hopefully, with this extra night, the kids at home wouldn’t be too worried.

“Dahai, stay with us tonight,” Zhang Cheng said. “Come rest in the village—you’ve been going non-stop for two days now.”

Even though he was already lying on the stretcher, Zhang Cheng didn’t forget to acknowledge his rescuer with warmth and sincerity.

“No need, Brother Zhang,” Fang Dahai replied. “I have to hurry back. I told my family I’d only be gone for two days. By now, I’m afraid they’re already waiting for me. If I don’t get moving, they’ll probably come out looking for me tomorrow morning.”

Hearing that, Zhang Cheng found himself unable to say anything more. After a long pause, he let out a sigh, both grateful and apologetic.

“It’s all because of me that you’ve gone through this trouble, Brother Dahai.”

“Oh, come on! This is what we call chivalry—standing up to injustice, helping the weak. I was just doing what any real man should. Don’t make it sound like I was dragged into this. You’re belittling my noble spirit!”

Fang Dahai rattled off a string of idioms, and everyone around him burst into laughter. Even Zhang Cheng couldn’t help but chuckle and scold:

“You! You’re good at everything except that mouth of yours—it’s too sharp! I was thinking of sending you a proper gift in the capital next time to thank you for saving my life, but after what you just said, why do I feel like I’ve become some background character in a comedy skit? Like I’m just here to make you look good!”

“Hey, if that’s how you want to see it, then that’s exactly right! Just get well. No need for thanks or formalities. What we’ve got is a bond for life—we don’t fuss about that stuff.”

“All right, all right. Just be careful on your way back.”

“Don’t worry, I will! I’m off!”

With that, Fang Dahai didn’t linger. Without caring whether the others were watching him go, he hoisted his basket, grabbed his things, and jogged back toward the forested mountain trail.

Watching Fang Dahai disappear into the distance, Jia Dabiao turned to Zhang Cheng, clearly uneasy.

“You’re just letting him go like that? It’s nearly dark—the mountains are dangerous at this time of day!”

“It’s not like we can just keep him here.”

Zhang Cheng sighed, unable to hide the pity on his face.

“Who doesn’t know how dangerous it is to enter the mountains at night? But the poor boy doesn’t have a choice. There are only a few young siblings left at home. If he doesn’t hurry back, he won’t have peace of mind—and those children will be panicking too. If something happens to them, how could we ever live with ourselves, after everything he’s done to help us?”

Hearing how bitter the situation was, Jia Dabiao also sighed and couldn’t help muttering under his breath:

“What kind of world is this? So many kids have it so hard…”

“Let’s go. Tomorrow I’ll send word to his side—ask someone to keep an eye on them. They’ll get through this. Once we make it into the city, it’ll all be okay.”

Zhang Cheng said this with confidence, and Jia Dabiao naturally nodded in agreement. Sweeping away the pity he felt earlier, he straightened his back, gathered his spirit, and loudly ordered the surrounding villagers to lift the stretcher. With the setting sun behind them, they made their way quickly toward the east.

---

The same rays of the setting sun lit Fang Dahai’s way, but unlike Zhang Cheng and Jia Dabiao—who left with pity and plans—Fang Dahai’s journey was far from easy.

He hadn’t been walking through the mountains long before his senses, which had only just relaxed, were once again fully alert in every direction.

This time, at least, there was no injured person like Zhang Cheng to carry, so Fang Dahai had been able to stow everything neatly into his storage basket and travel light. But even so, the darkening skies and the long distance still ahead of him made this journey through the forest increasingly difficult and dangerous.

He had considered taking a detour along the outer edge of the mountains, which was relatively safer, to avoid any unknown dangers that might arise at night. But after mentally reviewing the surrounding terrain, he quickly dismissed the idea.

Yes, there were fewer beasts and wild creatures along the periphery, but that didn’t necessarily mean it was less dangerous. After all, this region had seen frequent conflict. Who knew if defeated soldiers might be hiding in the woods? Who could say whether a temporary stronghold was stationed on the outer ridges of the mountains? And even if there were no soldiers—after what had happened at Tiger Head Walled City—he couldn’t rule out the presence of bandits or rogue fighters lurking in these areas.

Besides, taking the long way around would eat up precious time—and he was already pressed for it. If he detoured now, he might not even make it back to the capital by noon tomorrow.

And if that happened… how anxious would his siblings become? What if they grew so worried that they came out of the city to search for him? That would truly be a disaster.

Just thinking about the city gates, now crowded with displaced refugees… just imagining the criminals who preyed on others in broad daylight… This year had no shortage of dangerous men with fast weapons, and even fewer who cared whether a child lived or died.

He had a few little ones waiting at home. He couldn’t afford to lose a single one.

With all these thoughts weighing on his mind, how could Fang Dahai possibly feel at ease? How could he afford to choose the slower, safer path?

Taking the fastest route through the mountains—however dangerous—was his only choice.

After pressurizing the long wooden cartridge with bullets and placing it into his storage space, Fang Dahai inserted the short wooden cartridge securely at his front waist and tied the throwing dagger to its most familiar position on his sleeve. He then casually slung his bow and arrows over his shoulder and began moving rapidly through the forest.

At this moment, Fang Dahai’s innate and precise sense of direction—almost like an internal GPS—began to show its value.

If there had been a high-altitude satellite or aerial photography available just then, observers would have seen that Fang Dahai’s route southward was nearly a straight line. He only made minor detours in a few places where the mountain slopes became too steep to cross directly.

However, accurate navigation couldn’t stop time from passing. As the sky grew darker, the chirping of forest birds gradually faded into silence, and the vague howls of animals became louder and more distinct. Fang Dahai’s ears twitched at the sound, and he lifted his gaze slightly before quickening his pace. He darted down a gentle slope and quickly looked around for a large rock to climb.

They say the darkest hour is before dawn, but anyone who has paid close attention knows that true blackness often hits hardest just after sunset. This is the moment of transition between day and night—when vision and the human heart are both thrown off by the sudden change, creating an illusion of disorientation and unease.

In most places, such an illusion would be harmless. But in a mountain forest like this… a single misstep could mean serious danger—or even death.

Fortunately, Fang Dahai was experienced. Sensing the changing sky and the altered behavior of the forest beasts, he quickly found a relatively safe spot not far from where he stood.

The boulder he climbed was the most suitable resting place nearby. Although not very large, its height offered a good vantage point, giving him a much wider field of view. If a beast did approach, he would also have the advantage of attacking from above. The surrounding trees were plentiful, but not too close, which gave him both visibility and reaction time.

Even with such a spot secured, Fang Dahai’s first instinct was not to rest. Instead, he quickly pulled out the steamed buns and water he had prepared the previous day from his storage space. Remaining alert, he hastily ate and drank to replenish his strength.

In just a few quick bites, he had stuffed down the steamed buns and drank half a pot of water. Only then did Fang Dahai sit cross-legged on the rock. He slowly began to regulate his breathing and vigorously massaged his arms and legs to ease the soreness caused by hours of running.

The sun set completely with surprising speed—as if in the blink of an eye, the sunset vanished without a trace. In the next moment of daze, even the faint light remaining in the sky was cleanly swallowed by the black curtain of night.

Deep in the mountains, Fang Dahai quietly observed his surroundings, occasionally glancing up at the sky. Today was September 27th, the twenty-fifth day of the eighth month in the lunar calendar. Although the moon at this time of year wasn’t quite full or bright, even a crescent moon could offer him enough light for the journey home.

Now, all he could do was wait for the moon to rise.

“Owuuu…”

Hmm? He was just waiting for the moon—what was a wolf doing here?

That howl sounded close. Could it really be nearby? Was it hoping to stargaze and recite poetry with him under the moonlight?

Tch—this wolf must be out of its mind. He’d just carried out a blood-soaked mission like the God of Slaughter himself, and he definitely wasn’t in the mood for poetry. If that wolf wanted to get close, it’d better be prepared to have its pelt sold for a decent price. Now that was negotiable.