Automatic fire rattled against the chain mesh, sparks flying. Some bullets struck the ground, sending concrete shards everywhere. Mu Dai curled in on herself and rolled to Luo Ren’s side, throwing herself over him, calling desperately, “Luo Little Knife! Luo Little Knife!”
Luo Ren’s pupils were dilated. He lay in a pool of blood, utterly lifeless.
Mu Dai broke down in sobs, pressing her hands to his wound, screaming, “Luo Little Knife, wake up!”
Gunfire sounded again from above.
Leopard’s heart jolted—if she remembered correctly, she hadn’t stationed anyone up there.
To understand this, we have to go back to Zheng Mingshan.
Five people, one chicken, one car—slowly leaving the old city.
Wan San clutched the laptop, nervously watching the rapid camera switches on the screen. His eyes spun, sweat beading on his forehead. The more he watched, the more he felt like the group in the car was a hastily thrown-together mess—unreliable.
They didn’t dare follow too closely, afraid of alerting the enemy. The car maintained a steady speed until, suddenly, Wan San shouted, “The car’s gone!”
Gone—it had vanished from the feed.
Zheng Mingshan glanced at him. “Not gone. No cameras. What was the last intersection?”
Wan San hurriedly enlarged the image, barely making out the road sign. “From Jiangwan Road on, they left the city!”
Once outside the city, the area was vast. Without modern tech, they could end up anywhere—north, south, east, or west.
But if they kept chasing, they might tip off the enemy and ruin everything.
Except for Qingmu, who hovered between unconsciousness and lucidity, the three people and the chicken all looked at Zheng Mingshan.
He clenched his teeth. “Damn it—go after them!”
Zheng Mingshan didn’t have words like hesitation or indecision in his dictionary. He couldn’t say whether that was good or bad. If you’re wavering, pick one—whatever feels right.
So he floored it, blasting through the intersection without cameras.
The road grew rough and uneven. The terrain was far more complex than Zheng Mingshan had imagined, with countless forks. On dirt roads, he could follow fresh tire tracks; on concrete, there were no clues at all. After a while, he lost patience, slammed the brakes, and cursed.
Just then, Cao Yanhua pointed at the screen and shouted, “The car! The car—it’s back!”
Back? Zheng Mingshan’s heart tightened as he grabbed the laptop.
It wasn’t the earlier intersection—it appeared at another one nearby on the map.
Zoomed in, though blurry, it was clear: aside from the driver, there was no one else in the car.
In the jargon, that meant the cargo had been unloaded.
Cao Yanhua panicked. “What do we do? The area’s so big—who knows where he dumped Brother Luo…”
Before he could finish, the car jerked violently—Zheng Mingshan had already turned the wheel. “Intercept him!”
With surveillance help and Zheng Mingshan’s reckless driving, they barreled forward. Everyone in the car turned pale. At a fork in the road, Zheng Mingshan drifted sideways, blocking the other car head-on.
Wan San felt his stomach churn violently. By the time he recovered, Zheng Mingshan and Cao Yanhua were already out of the car. Out of the corner of his eye, Wan San saw Zheng Mingshan yank open the door, drag the driver out, and start kicking him.
Way too brutal!
Wan San glanced at the screen and shouted out, “Senior Brother, there’s a camera—move a bit to the right so you don’t get caught!”
He sat back, only to find Yan Hongsand staring at him. Wan San stiffened his neck. “What?”
Yan Hongsand said, “Smart move.”
Outside, the driver begged for mercy as he was beaten. Cao Yanhua rolled up his sleeves, acting like a hype man, sneaking in kicks whenever he could. Cao Jiefang stuck his head out the window, eyes bulging, jerking comically with every punch and kick.
After a while, they seemed to have gotten the information they needed. Wan San saw Zheng Mingshan chop the man hard at the back of the neck, knocking him out cold.
The car started up again. Wan San leaned out the window, looking at the abandoned car and the unconscious man. “Senior Brother, we’re just leaving him there?”
“Yeah.”
Wan San felt oddly exhilarated. Unlike Luo Ren’s caution, Zheng Mingshan charged forward without regard for consequences. If this were a blockbuster movie, he’d be the lone hero who blew up half the world to save it.
On the road, Zheng Mingshan briefed them.
—“This road heads west. There’s an abandoned factory—main building.”
—“Including Leopard, there are four people over there. All armed.”
—“We split into two teams. Cao Yanhua and Hongsand with me. Remember—follow my orders. If I don’t say move, stay behind me. I brought you to help, not to get you killed.”
—“Wan San, stay in the car with Qingmu. Find a way to wake him up. In this situation, he’s more useful than all of you.”
…
The car stopped. The dark factory loomed in the night, gradually dissolving into dawn. Zheng Mingshan got out first. When he turned back, Yan Hongsand had somehow found a plastic bag and was holding it open. Wan San had a knife, slicing his arm and grimacing in pain as he squeezed blood into the bag.
Yan Hongsand urged him, “More. Might come in handy.”
What kind of nonsense—Zheng Mingshan snapped, “Move!”
Startled, Yan Hongsand twisted the bag shut, stuffed it into her pocket, and hurried out.
Wan San watched enviously as Yan Hongsand and Cao Yanhua followed Zheng Mingshan over the factory’s iron gate and rushed toward the main building.
Knowing martial arts really was useful—even Cao Yanhua, who only knew a little, could be drafted as backup.
Wan San looked down at Qingmu, whose eyes rolled white as he muttered incoherently. Wan San patted his face. “Hey—wake up…”
The three of them pressed quickly against the factory wall.
They listened—there was movement inside, but it was indistinct.
Zheng Mingshan looked up. High above, small ventilation windows appeared at intervals.
No way he could fit—but the girls were smaller. Hongsand might manage.
Zheng Mingshan signaled that he was going up to check.
Cao Yanhua and Yan Hongsand understood. They crept along the wall to the main door. Cao Yanhua tested it gently. “Locked.”
Yan Hongsand whispered, “Can you open it?”
Sweat beaded on Cao Yanhua’s forehead. Nervous and frightened, he pulled out his bulging lock-picking kit. “I’ll try.”
“Quiet.”
Of course—did they doubt his professionalism? What thief ever broke in with gongs and drums?
Cao Yanhua wiped his sweat, laid out his tools, and got to work.
Suddenly—a dull bang, like a gunshot.
They exchanged looks. Yan Hongsand went pale. “Was that a gun?”
A small stone landed beside them. Turning, they saw Zheng Mingshan beckoning urgently.
When they reached him, his face was grim. “Things inside are very bad. No time to waste. We move now.”
He looked at Yan Hongsand. “Afraid to die?”
Her heart pounded wildly. She shook her head hard. “No.”
“Good. You go first.”
What?
Yan Hongsand froze.
Zheng Mingshan crouched and drew a rectangle in the dirt, with a small square in the center.
“Factory layout. Rectangle. Cage in the middle. Aside from the main entrance, no other exits found yet. Luo Ren and Mu Dai are inside—Luo Ren’s been shot. Leopard’s people are positioned around the sides. The vents are obstructed—angles are bad for me to shoot. The situation’s terrible. We act now.”
“Cao Fatty, open the lock with everything you’ve got. Hongsand, enter through the vent—stay hidden. Tie the rope to the upper walkway railing. Gun’s yours.”
He pulled out his gun, set it to fire with a single trigger pull, and shoved it into her hand. “You don’t need to aim. Just fire. If you can drop one or two, even better. When the lock opens, swing down into the factory and fire in all directions. Draw all attention to yourself.”
“When I see the door open, I’ll come in from the front—quietly if possible. Hongsand, the moment you see the door open, toss the gun to me.”
Yan Hongsand’s hand was slick with sweat. She nodded. “Okay.”
“I’ll fire controlled shots—should be able to take out two, maybe three.” He turned to Cao Yanhua. “Then come in immediately. No rules. If you can gang up, do it.”
Cao Yanhua nodded, legs trembling. As he turned back to the door, Zheng Mingshan suddenly extended his hand, palm down.
Yan Hongsand understood first and placed her hand over his. Cao Yanhua followed.
All their hands were burning hot.
Zheng Mingshan said, “It’s fine. Don’t panic. We’re all coming back alive.”
Zheng Mingshan went first. He wasn’t as nimble as Mu Dai at wall-climbing, but he managed. Once in position, he dropped the rope and hauled Yan Hongsand up.
She was extremely tense, lips drained of color. Before Zheng Mingshan slid back down, he patted her back. “Remember—no matter what you see or hear, no matter how anxious you feel, don’t rush. Hold your position. Do your job.”
He slid down quickly. Looking down, Yan Hongsand saw him give her a thumbs-up.
She told herself, Don’t panic. Don’t panic. I’ll make it back alive.
Inside the vast factory, all attention was focused on the cage. The floodlights split light and shadow so starkly that no one noticed the small window high above—or the small figure slipping through it.
Yan Hongsand moved as lightly as she could, tying the rope to the railing, measuring the length, looping the other end loosely around her waist, estimating where she’d land.
Mu Dai stood in the cage. Luo Ren lay on the ground in a massive pool of blood. Yan Hongsand’s temples throbbed violently. She forced herself to stay calm, fixing her gaze on the door, repeating over and over: Hold your position. Do your job.
She didn’t know how many times she’d repeated it when gunfire suddenly erupted inside the factory. At the same time, the main door opened silently, just a crack.
Now!
Yan Hongsand gripped the gun, took a bounding step onto the railing, kicked off, raised the muzzle, and without hesitation pulled the trigger—swinging out over the factory floor, firing wildly in all directions.
Sam Williams On TYMIMA Chapter 152