Chapter One Hundred and Four

Zheng Qi lay on the ground, gazing at the sun that had just risen in the sky. As he looked on, a faint smile gradually appeared at the corners of his lips.

Russian soldiers trod over his body, their boots pressing down relentlessly, sending waves of pain through him. They paid him no mind; cleaning up the battlefield was a task for the troops behind them. Their mission was to hold fast to this bandit force at all costs, ensuring none escaped safely.

Lopatkin’s face was devoid of any smile now. In war, unless the strength between the two sides is vastly unequal, the attacking side inevitably suffers greater casualties than the defenders, hence the ancient saying: "Among talents, those who attack cities are the lowest."

The brief battle on this hill had clearly proven this. The Russians’ fierce artillery barrage brought them no advantage whatsoever. In close combat, eighty-one Russian soldiers had fallen.

From morning until now, five hundred Russian soldiers had died—at the hands of less than four hundred bandits! Watching the fleeing figures of the bandits from the foot of the hill, Lopatkin let out a deep breath and commanded simply, “Pursue them!”

British journalist Mark observed the battlefield. At this moment, he no longer mocked the Russian troops but instead held his camera with a grave expression, capturing the scenes he deemed necessary.

“General! There’s one still alive!” a Russian soldier shouted, drawing everyone's attention. A living bandit! The first one they had encountered so far.

Before Lopatkin could respond, the reporters surged forward toward Zheng Qi.

Ilena was the first to raise her camera and snap a photo of the bloodied Chinese bandit. In the frame, Zheng Qi sat half-upright on the ground, clutching a rifle but not aiming it. In front of him stood a group of Russian soldiers, guns trained on this lone Chinese bandit.

After taking the picture, Ilena turned to the nearby Russians and said, “You don’t have to do this! He’s already wounded. He should receive medical care and humane treatment!”

The Russian soldiers ignored her. After several futile attempts at protest, Ilena stopped speaking and slowly approached Zheng Qi, speaking in Chinese: “It’s over for you now. Put down your weapon, will you? I’m a journalist. I promise you will be treated as a prisoner of war. Now lay down your gun. May I ask you a few questions?”

Zheng Qi smiled faintly as the woman drew near and whispered, “Go away.”

Ilena was taken aback. “What did you say?”

Mark’s eyes were sharp. Behind Zheng Qi, he suddenly spotted plumes of white smoke rising. Without hesitation, he lunged, grabbing Ilena and pulling her back: “Get back! Everyone, clear the way!”

“Bang!”

A tremendous explosion sent a gust of wind sweeping over the battlefield. Among the dozen or so Russian soldiers surrounding Zheng Qi, three were killed instantly; the rest lay writhing in pools of blood.

The scene stunned everyone. As Mark rose to his feet, he cursed, “Damn it!”

He quickly checked on Ilena. “Ilena, are you alright?”

Still shaken, Ilena burst into tears, burying her head in Mark’s shoulder. “Why did this happen? I just wanted to ask him two questions. Why would he do this?”

Mark patted her shoulder reassuringly. “It’s not your fault. He never intended to be captured alive by the Russians.”

Ilena continued to cry, but Mark had composed himself. After all, he was a man who had served in the military and faced combat. He helped Ilena to a nearby spot to rest. “Listen, get some rest. His death has nothing to do with you. Tell me, what did you want to ask him?”

Ilena wiped her tears and replied, “I wanted to ask why he became a bandit. Why did he follow that utterly despicable fiend Yang Dagui?”

Mark smiled wryly. “I think I’m becoming as interested in Yang Dagui as you are.”

Yang Xiaolin ran relentlessly. The bandits’ stamina was rapidly waning. After a whole night of marching and continuous fighting, they could barely keep going, pushing forward on their last breaths. Some collapsed mid-run, unable to rise again.

Nearly an hour later, they reached the entrance of the valley. Yang Xiaolin plunged in, but Akberier, who was behind, suddenly halted, hastily signaling the Russian soldiers to cease their pursuit.

The terrain of this valley was as Nirel had warned: dangerous even from the outside. The gorge stretched long, flanked by steep mountains covered in dense forest. If bandits were stationed along the ridges, any troops entering the valley would suffer fatal ambushes.

General Akberier was determined to eliminate Yang Xiaolin at all costs, hence the relentless pursuit. Yet, as a competent commander, he understood that sometimes the battlefield demanded caution rather than rash sacrifice. From the recent skirmishes, it was clear that these bandits could no longer be called mere criminals; he needed greater prudence.

Seeing the troops halt, Lopatkin didn’t send messengers but personally approached Akberier. “What’s going on? Why the stop?”

Akberier pointed forward. “Commander, the terrain here is highly unfavorable. I fear an ambush that could cause further casualties.”

Lopatkin frowned, not without some military knowledge himself. “So we just stay here? Akberier, what about taking a detour?”

Akberier shook his head. “No, that would let these bandits escape. We must send troops in immediately—let the Qing forces enter first!”

Lopatkin smiled. “Not a bad idea.”

Akberier’s plan was to use the Qing forces as cannon fodder. If there were ambushes, once the bandits revealed their positions, Russian artillery could bombard them. Driving them from their hiding spots would solve the problem.

The Qing forces were already considered expendable in this joint operation. Zeng Qi complied promptly, and Zhao Yansun was unfortunately chosen to lead. With over three thousand Qing soldiers armed with the latest German rifles, they nervously entered the valley.

Meanwhile, Akberier remained alert. The Qing troops’ role was to expose the bandits’ ambushes; the real fight would be handled by the Russians. First, the Qing forces were inadequate; second, even if they were capable, the Russians were unwilling to share the glory of capturing Yang Xiaolin.

Once the Qing forces moved into the valley, the more than four thousand Russian troops split into three groups: one stationed on a high ground near the valley’s mouth, another ready to charge into the valley at a moment’s notice, and two thousand soldiers with Commander Lopatkin holding the rear.

(Third watch! No requests for votes tonight—I have some evening engagements. I’ll try to return early and get a couple more chapters done.)