Chapter 2511: Burning the Tower (24)

The enemy kept advancing, saber in hand. Closer now. Xu Tong could make out the leader's face. Summoning his last reserves of strength, he lurched to his feet. His right hand spun, reversing the dagger so his five fingers pinched the blade. He drew his arm back and hurled it with everything he had left. The dagger tumbled twice through the air before gravity tilted its point forward, sending it spinning toward Wei Mingchen's throat.

Wei Mingchen flicked his Cloud Ladder saber with casual precision, swatting the knife aside. It had been a weak throw, powerless. A smug smile tugged at the corner of his mouth—but when he thought of the price they'd paid to get here, his expression darkened again.

With methodical calm, Wei Mingchen cocked his hand crossbow and raised it, taking aim at Xu Tong. He never took unnecessary risks. He wouldn't close the distance, not with this one. A cornered beast could still be dangerous. Better to weaken him with bolts first, then move in for the kill.

A dull gunshot shattered the silence of the mountain forest. A flock of roosting birds exploded from the trees, circling and crying against the pale gray sky.

Wei Mingchen's head snapped backward. His crossbow never fired. A small bullet hole had appeared in the center of his forehead. At the back of his skull, a bright red flower of blood and brain matter bloomed outward. His body swayed. A gurgling sound rose from his throat—his final testament to the world. He tilted sideways and collapsed slowly. The last image burned onto his retinas was a slender figure in a canvas hunting suit, holding a pistol one-handed, the image tilting as consciousness fled.

Yang Cao blew gently at the curling smoke rising from the muzzle and walked forward from behind Xu Tong. The remaining four swordsmen stood frozen, uncertain whether to retreat or advance. Then one of them snapped awake and shouted: "It's a woman—kill her!"

At that instant, a black shadow launched from the flank, cutting in behind the man. The attacker seized the swordsman's hair bun with his left hand, wrenching his head and neck backward and to the left. A prismatic short awl in his right hand drove upward from beneath the jawbone, punching straight into the brainstem. A twist. A wet sound as it pulled free. The attacker flicked the awl crisply through the air, scattering a string of crystalline blood droplets.

More than a dozen shadows burst from concealment. The remaining three swordsmen were tackled to the ground almost simultaneously. The resistance ended before it had truly begun, leaving only cold corpses behind.

Yang Cao opened her backpack, withdrew a water bag, and handed it to Xu Tong. "Glucose," she said quietly.

He took it with his right hand and sipped in small mouthfuls.

One of the action team members opened a first aid kit and began treating Xu Tong's wounds. "You'll live," he said. Another member approached, asked about Li Baiqing's whereabouts, and reported to Yang Cao.

"Xiao Wu," Yang Cao called out.

A lean young man with a surprisingly youthful face walked over quickly. Despite his age, something unsettling lurked in his expression. He wiped the fresh blood from his prismatic awl with a cloth and slid it back into the scabbard at his waist. "Chief Yang."

"Look after him," Yang Cao said. "I'll contact Team Two, find out how things went on their end. See if the lookouts have been dealt with. Then have them retrieve Li Baiqing—he might need first aid. Once he's stable, get him to the hospital fast." She turned and headed downhill.

Xiao Wu squatted beside Xu Tong and grinned at him. "Stop drinking that stuff. No kick to it." He pulled out a cigarette, lit it, took a long drag, then offered the remaining half to Xu Tong. "One of these'll put the strength back in you."

Xu Tong took a puff and coughed twice. He recognized immediately that something had been mixed into the tobacco and handed it back. "I don't touch your stuff. You'd do well to smoke less of it yourself. You're killing the hen to get at the eggs."

Xiao Wu laughed—a dry hei hei sound. "Take a few more puffs. At least take the edge off."

When Xu Tong ignored him, Xiao Wu continued talking. "Chief Yang organized two tracking teams, two support teams, and a logistics team just for you. You know that, right? We had to borrow five walkie-talkies from the Special Reconnaissance Team for this operation. Requisitioned several of their new flashlights too. You know how it is—those original Australian imports get rarer every year. Chief Yang even went to Director Wu's office and slammed the table over it." He shook his head. "Field tracking out here is brutal. The river flats and tidal creeks twist around a thousand times. We couldn't figure out the paths at all, had to stay on the perimeter. By the time we got back, the support team still hadn't arrived, and you'd already taken Old Li into the reed marshes. You moved too fast. In this godforsaken place, we couldn't get a fix on your bearing. The support team was too far out. Always just that little bit short." He gave Xu Tong a look. "It wasn't until you popped that signal flare that we realized how close you were. Why didn't you use it earlier?"

"Whoever reveals themselves first loses," Xu Tong said.

Xiao Wu grinned. "Fair point."

He stood up, dusted himself off, and put a hand on Xu Tong's shoulder. "Chief Yang takes good care of you. Let me get you back now—"

"No rush." Xu Tong looked around. "Where are we?"

"Cao River, in Panyu County."

"Cao River?"

Xu Tong realized his "Secret Record of Distance Art" had a massive blind spot. He'd thought they were still close to Guangzhou. He never imagined they'd traveled this far.

Then again, they'd blindfolded him and kept him inside the boat's covered awning. He'd completely lost all sense of time and space.

"This place wasn't easy to find, was it?"

"Damn near impossible," Xiao Wu said with a laugh. "Without brothers of Tanka origin as guides, we'd still be going in circles out here."

Seeing Xu Tong's dejected expression, he tried to reassure him. "Don't be so hard on yourself. Now that we know this is their base, we can have the Special Reconnaissance Team's air reconnaissance unit sweep the area. No matter how well they hide, they'll be found."

"Don't bother. Even if you find it, it'll be long abandoned. They're not that stupid." Xu Tong felt exhaustion crashing over him again like a wave. "Find me a stretcher. I'm going to sleep."

When he woke, Xu Tong was back at the Bureau in Guangzhou. Not only had his wounds been re-bandaged, but someone had changed his clothes as well. He must have slept like the dead.

He felt for the watch by his pillow. Five in the morning—he'd been out for quite a while. His mind felt sharp now, clear as water. He could recall almost every minute of everything that had happened the day before. But Xu Tong knew this clarity was temporary. He needed to write the report while his memory was still fresh. Especially everything he'd witnessed at the alliance meeting.

After washing up, he rang the bell and summoned the guard on duty outside his door.

"Bring me breakfast and a cup of strong tea. Send them both to my office."

He made his way to the office, drew back the curtains, and began writing his action report by the pale morning light.

As he reconstructed the events, he couldn't identify where he'd made an error. Why had Xue Tu suddenly developed killing intent? Xu Tong could sense that after their fight, Xue Tu harbored no desire to kill him. Yet the moment the meeting adjourned, the pursuit began—a pursuit that had clearly been prepared in advance.

Had they known all along that he was an undercover agent? Xu Tong's thoughts tangled together. He didn't press deeper. His mind turned to the old Daoist who had stood at Xue Tu's side throughout—likely the "Wooden Stone Daoist" mentioned repeatedly in intelligence reports. This Wooden Stone Daoist remained a mystery. Ever since the Witchcraft Case, they'd known such a person existed, but had never gotten close to him.

Still, judging by what he'd witnessed, these Ming Dynasty underground forces were gathering in unprecedented numbers. A violent counterattack couldn't be far off.

The counterattack was doomed to fail—Xu Tong was certain of that. But the flames it ignited would leave countless innocent common people with shattered families and unmarked graves.

Two nights later, at a porridge stall outside the Political Security Bureau in Guangzhou. Yang Cao sat alone at a table. The stall was a favorite haunt of Bureau employees working the night shift. The dim flame of an oil lamp under its glass cover flickered restlessly on the table, casting a pool of light barely a few feet across. A figure approached and stopped beside her. Xu Tong's voice came from behind: "Working overtime again?"

Yang Cao gave a soft "Mm" of acknowledgment. "Shouldn't you be resting a few more days?"

"No need. I report to Director Wu tomorrow. I'm just organizing my notes."

Yang Cao was silent for a moment. Then: "Back there, you didn't know when support would arrive. You should have eliminated Li Baiqing and escaped on your own."

"A life loyal to the Senate shouldn't be thrown away like that," Xu Tong said. "We can't only care about results and ignore the means."

"We need rationality," Yang Cao replied. "Not sentiment."

"Perhaps this is the humanity the Senators always speak of."

"Your choice could have brought disaster. If you and Li Baiqing had fallen into enemy hands, the consequences would have been unimaginable."

"I wouldn't have been taken alive."

Yang Cao exhaled softly. "I don't believe in humanity. Including my own. Because humanity can't withstand testing." She paused. "I'll be including this in my report."

Xu Tong didn't respond. He turned to leave, then stopped after two steps. He hesitated. "Thank you. For this." Without looking back, he strode away into the darkness.

Yang Cao stirred the steaming white porridge before her. She lifted the wooden spoon to her lips. The scalding porridge slid down her throat, warming her icy body and cold soul.

A long time passed.

"You're welcome," she whispered to herself.

Zhao Manxiong pressed his fingers gently against his temples, trying to ease the tension. Wu Mu sat on the leather sofa across from the desk, reading the operation report in silence. In the corner, a rosewood table clock—custom-made by Zizhenghai—ticked with monotonous regularity, like a hypnotic pendulum that made one drowsy despite every effort to stay alert.

Finally, Wu Mu raised his head and tossed the two reports onto the coffee table.

Silence settled over the office. After a moment, Zhao Manxiong looked up. "Well?"

"Well what?" Wu Mu asked.

Zhao Manxiong gestured at the reports. Wu Mu's voice was flat. "From a reconnaissance perspective? A failure. A complete failure. Undercover operative exposed. Civilian informants exposed. Intense armed conflict resulting in significant casualties—even if they were the enemy's." His tone sharpened. "Is this individual heroism? Does Xu Tong really think he's Kenshiro?"

(End of Chapter)