Chapter Thirty-six: Light Amid Shadows

Let us turn now to Bai Xiong’s side. Thanks to the smooth capture of Hu San and his companions, coupled with Captain Wu’s flattery now and then, Bai Xiong found this meal unexpectedly satisfying. Yet a quarter of an hour had passed, and the scouts sent to track any traces had yet to return. Bai Xiong frowned—not because he feared they’d met with trouble, but because he suspected they’d ignored his orders and already given chase.

Still, the squad was directly under the Grand Chief’s command, and Bai Xiong could hardly reprimand them openly. Nevertheless, a shadow passed over his face. Captain Wu, seasoned in the ways of banditry, immediately caught the meaning behind Bai Xiong’s expression. Without hesitation, he barked, “Damn it, Zhou Xiang really can’t get anything right. I told him not to pursue, so why didn’t he listen? Liu Tian, take some men and bring them back. If something happens out there, can Zhou Xiang answer for it?”

“Yes, Captain!” Another team took the order, but this time they didn’t split up. Instead, they advanced together along the mountain path.

Hu San, lying in ambush nearby, didn’t hesitate. Waiting until the group passed, he silently cut down the last man, then charged in, blade in hand. Though these men were elite, they were no match for Hu San, especially caught off guard as they were. By the time they managed to form a defensive formation, five already lay dead by Hu San’s blade, leaving the rest unable to mount any meaningful resistance.

Their fate was sealed. When Bai Xiong and the others arrived, drawn by the commotion, they were met with a gruesome sight—bodies strewn across the ground, eyes wide in death. Bai Xiong coldly examined the corpses, then struck a nearby tree with a furious fist, driving his arm nearly a foot into the trunk.

“Chief Bai, what—what is this?” Unlike the composed Bai Xiong, Captain Wu was visibly shaken, especially when the bodies of the other missing squad were likewise found and brought over. Panic set in. They’d lost only four or five men during the long pursuit, but now, in the span of moments, two entire squads—almost twenty men, nearly a fifth of their force—had been wiped out. The shock was overwhelming.

“Hmph. Among the experts at Wolf Fang Fortress, only two possess such skill, and only one wields a blade—Hu San. I’m certain this is his handiwork. Damn it, we were careless this time.”

“Rally the men. Gather all our best trackers. This time, we’re going to teach Hu San a lesson.”

At Bai Xiong’s command, the entire hunting party sprang into action. Hu San’s tracks were soon discovered, and with no time wasted, Bai Xiong led his men in pursuit.

They followed Hu San all the way to a place where his group had split up, and here, the tracks diverged in a dozen directions.

“What is the meaning of this?” Bai Xiong’s face darkened. If he lost Hu San again, he scarcely knew how he’d face Wu Xiong upon his return.

“Chief, judging by the tracks here, it seems the enemy has split up, forming more than a dozen groups running in different directions,” one of the bandits replied nervously, careful not to anger Bai Xiong further.

“Can you identify which set belongs to Hu San?”

Taking a deep breath to rein in his temper, Bai Xiong asked quietly.

“I’m afraid it won’t be easy. While Hu San’s tracks should be fresher, after less than a day, they’d all appear much the same. It would be very hard to tell,” the bandit answered after a hesitant pause.

Bai Xiong glared fiercely, nearly reducing the man to jelly. Cold sweat poured down his back, but the bandit pressed on, “We could either follow one trail closely, or split our forces to pursue several. What does the Chief wish?”

“To split our forces?” A pained look flashed in Bai Xiong’s eyes as he stepped away and paced in a circle. “Very well, split the men. Give me a few of our best trackers to follow one trail, everyone else take another. Remember—do not split up further or act rashly along the way.”

“I want to see how long Hu San can hide once I’ve wrung the life out of all those brats.”

But Hu San never intended to rely on such tricks to escape. Before Bai Xiong could even divide his forces, several bandits who’d slipped away to relieve themselves on the outskirts screamed—and met their end at the hands of death itself.

By the time Bai Xiong and his men arrived, only a few corpses, riddled with wounds, remained. Bai Xiong’s hatred deepened, but at least there was no longer any doubt which trail to follow. He immediately ordered pursuit.

Thus began a deadly dance spanning three days. In those three days, Bai Xiong’s men barely ate or drank, and Hu San rested even less. Whenever there was a chance, Hu San would ambush the outermost members of Bai Xiong’s party. After three days of relentless skirmishing, the entire hunting team was on edge, nerves frayed.

More than forty had died by Hu San’s hand. Yet Hu San himself fared little better; several times Bai Xiong managed to catch up, leading to fierce clashes. Though Hu San escaped each time by virtue of his inner strength and fleet footwork, he was left covered in wounds.

His left arm was in the worst shape, having been struck by an arrow from Captain Wu. Had Wu’s shot been at full draw, Hu San might have ended up a one-armed swordsman. Yet Wu paid dearly for it—Hu San hurled a stone that smashed Wu’s skull, spraying brain matter three feet into the air.

By now, both sides were utterly spent. Bai Xiong’s greater numbers should have allowed him to rest, but old wounds from previous battles had reopened, making it impossible to finish off Hu San.

“This can’t go on,” Hu San thought, licking his parched lips as he leaned against a locust tree, plucking flowers to eat for a bit of strength. “If it comes to it, I’ll have to abandon my plans to head north, and find a mountain village to hide in. It may bring disaster to the villagers, but I have no choice.”

Through the trees below, he saw a wisp of smoke rising—evidence of a nearby village. For the first time, he tasted the desperation of having nowhere left to run. Were it not for his childhood in the mountains, he would never have lasted this long.

Even so, he was at the end of his rope—vision swimming, limbs heavy. Now, even if he caught a straggler from the hunting party, he dared not attack for fear of being surrounded. As the saying goes, “A dragon stranded in the shallows is mocked by shrimps; a tiger fallen from grace is hounded by dogs.” Though Bai Xiong’s men were exhausted, they still outnumbered him and could maintain a supply of food and water, leaving them in far better shape than Hu San. It would not take a master—just ten ordinary men from the hunting party could finish him off.

Just as Hu San resolved to change tactics, a sudden disturbance caught his ear, and his expression changed drastically. Before him, the underbrush rippled—unmistakable signs of someone passing through.

“How can this be? How did they get ahead of me so quickly?” A bitter smile twisted Hu San’s lips; he knew this time there was no escape.

“So be it. If I am to die, let me go out in a blaze of fury. If they want my life, they’ll have to pay for it.” Quietly, he drew his black sword and caressed it gently. Because of its unique origins, Hu San never used the black sword unless he faced a lone foe—if anyone saw it and survived, it could bring endless trouble. But now, with death so near, he had no more misgivings. He would fight with the black sword, and perhaps drag Bai Xiong down with him.

A faint smile touched his lips as memories of his mountain village drifted through his mind. In the depths of his soul, these were his true experiences in life—not the bloodshed and violence, but the simplicity of home.

“I wonder how things are at home? Has my eldest brother married yet? My parents must have long since forgotten me and Second Brother. How tragic… I hope my younger brother and sister are well. Without us at home, perhaps life is better for them.”

A wave of longing washed over him, and for a moment, Hu San’s hardened exterior slipped away to reveal the spirit of a youth from the mountains.

“They’re coming? Very well, let it be a fight to the finish!”

Seeing the underbrush parting ever more violently, Hu San no longer bothered to hide. He leapt down from the tree, but his legs buckled and he fell to the ground. A wry smile crossed his face. Once, he’d been able to leap across rooftops and scale walls, yet now a simple descent left him sprawling—perhaps his time had truly come.

He forced himself upright, gripping his long blade in one hand and concealing the black sword in the other, slowly advancing toward the commotion.

Suddenly, the undergrowth split apart, and a squad of hardened bandits burst forth. They shouted on seeing Hu San, but did not attack; instead, they surrounded him.

“Are they trying to take me alive? No—something’s off. These bandits aren’t from the hunting party.”

Hu San sized them up—clean clothes, bright eyes, none of the exhaustion he’d inflicted on Bai Xiong’s men. An uneasy suspicion took root. “Could they be local bandits? If so, maybe there’s a chance yet.”

As he reconsidered his plan, Hu San quietly sheathed the black sword.

“Hu San!?” A voice called out from the woods—one he recognized at once.

“Zhao Feng!?” Hu San blinked in disbelief. Zhao Feng was alive? He must have retreated with the Third Chief’s elite troops, but why were they here?

“Could these be men from Wolf Heart Fortress? No… how did they get here so quickly?”