Chapter Twenty-One: Ambush

“Big brother, I never realized you had such a twisted sense of humor. Sleeping with a severed head by your side? Just hearing you talk about it is enough to give me the chills. Honestly, I can't imagine how soldiers in the Qin dynasty could tally up their achievements by counting heads. No, I don't want to think about it anymore—just the thought makes me a little nauseous,” Zhang Xuan said, shuddering.

“Looks like you've corrupted me. I wasn't like this before. Xiao Xuan, you better take responsibility,” Yang Zaixing replied, bursting into hearty laughter.

“Take responsibility? How exactly? Maybe I should let you hold me all night—though I doubt you'd dare. What do you think? Give it some thought,” Zhang Xuan teased, twirling a lock of hair by his ear and winking exaggeratedly at Yang Zaixing.

“Get lost! As far away from me as possible. I’m not into that,” Yang Zaixing retorted, stepping back a few paces.

Just as Zhang Xuan and Yang Zaixing were bantering, Yang Hu returned, saying, “It’s done. The bodies are hidden.”

“They’ll probably follow the route we took when we escaped. Big brother, bring your spear—it’s time to see some real blood.” Zhang Xuan picked up the saber he’d ‘confiscated’ from the minor leader, as well as the spear he’d been practicing with—the one Old Man Tong had tossed him back in Zhangjia Village. He glanced at it and muttered, “First time using this for anything other than practice. I wonder if it’ll hold up.”

As Yang Zaixing polished his spear, he looked at Zhang Xuan. “Xiao Xuan, after our recent sparring sessions, I feel like something’s missing. It’s as if I’ve hit a bottleneck. Maybe Old Man Tong was right, maybe we can’t truly fight without regard for life or death. Only real experience can take you to the next level. Maybe this is my chance to break through.”

“A bottleneck? Why don’t I feel that way? That’s odd—are you more skilled than I am? I never noticed. I practice so hard every day, even putting in extra sessions! Well, you’d better seize this chance, big brother—evolve into a Super Saiyan or something, because my future’s riding on you. Brother Hu, have you hit any bottlenecks? If you have—”

“Enough, Xiao Xuan. I’m finally being serious about something important, so don’t interrupt. You’ve ruined the mood I worked so hard to build. Next time we spar, I’m not holding back. Just you wait! Brother Hu, you don’t hold back either—this kid really needs a beating lately,” Yang Zaixing said, raising his fist.

“All right, jokes aside. Looking forward to our next duel! Brothers, let’s go and intercept them on the road,” Zhang Xuan said, suddenly serious. Yang Zaixing and Yang Hu rose to follow.

Old Man Tong and Uncle Yang came back, hoping to find a better vantage point, only to discover that the three were already gone. Exchanging glances, they had the same thought: had the trio actually run off?

“Should we wait a bit longer? Or should we go too?” Uncle Yang asked uncertainly. Old Man Tong first walked around the campfire, noticing that the three’s belongings were still there, but their spears and the saber Zhang Xuan had brought that morning were missing. Then he headed to the spot where the stalkers had hidden, poked around a while, and soon spotted an oddly conspicuous pile of grass. Approaching it, he found the two men from that morning lying there. Old Man Tong checked their breathing.

Seeing that Old Man Tong had found something, Uncle Yang hurried over and saw the two men as well.

“How are they, Old Tong?”

Old Man Tong withdrew his hand. “Still breathing, just knocked out. They won’t be waking up anytime soon. The hit was pretty heavy—by the technique, it must’ve been Yang Hu. I don’t think Xiao Xuan or Zaixing are quite up to that yet, though it’s hard to say—their skills have improved rapidly lately.” He stood, gazing down the road they’d traveled that morning, trying in vain to spot the three figures. “Let’s wait here, Brother Yang,” he said, then lay down.

“Wait here? Old Tong, do you think they really went to... Zhang Xuan, such nerve! I guess I really am getting old—sometimes you can’t help but admit it,” Uncle Yang said, sitting beside the grass pile, though anxiety gnawed at him. Sensing this, Old Man Tong reassured him, “It’ll be fine. Zhang Xuan isn’t the type to risk an unprepared fight. If things go south, they’ll slip away easily. Don’t worry.”

Meanwhile, Zhang Xuan and the others retraced their steps, guided by their memory from earlier that morning. Along the way, Zhang Xuan carefully observed the terrain and the growth of the surrounding trees. After all, he’d served two years in the military before his current job, and he’d read and watched countless military stories, especially those about special forces—the tricks from novels and TV shows can actually come in handy, or at least fool people in ancient times.

Finding a dense patch of forest with good terrain and a nearby water source, Zhang Xuan gave a halt signal. Yang Zaixing and Yang Hu, recognizing the gesture from their runs together, stopped as well—another unspoken bond formed through training.

“We’ll wait here. Brother Hu, big brother, let’s each find a tree to climb and wait. We’ve come this far and lingered long enough—they should be here soon. Remember to keep quiet and stay hidden. First, observe how many are coming. Wait for my move before you act, understood?” Zhang Xuan said, looking at the other two.

Yang Hu nodded.

“Don’t worry, Xiao Xuan. As much as I want to break through, I value my life more. Only by surviving can I improve. I won’t gamble with my life. I’ll follow your lead,” Yang Zaixing replied.

Zhang Xuan stared at him in disbelief—was this really the same Yang Zaixing, the famed general who fought to the end at Xiao Shang River? Had he misjudged him? No, based on recent observation, Yang Zaixing still had the makings of a great general. Or had he simply been led astray? “Big brother, you’ve changed. You’re not the same person I first met. Why do you seem so unfamiliar? Have you been possessed by some demon? Want me to perform an exorcism?”