Chapter Twenty-Seven: The Heart of Victory

After leaving the pharmacy, Yang Xiaolin made his way into the forested mountains where Sui Bing and the others were hiding. The words of Doctor Hu had suddenly cleared his mind, making his thoughts exceptionally lucid and his resolve unshakable.

A soldier's combat ability is not determined by the weapon in his hands, but by his understanding of why he holds it.

Since his journey through time, Yang Xiaolin had wielded his gun as if playing a game, or perhaps fulfilling a promise to “accomplish great deeds.” Only now did he realize how many eyes were watching him, how discerning the common people truly were, and how many longed for him to continue as “Yang the Ghost-Slayer.”

What the people cherished was not him as a person, but a spiritual anchor. In this era, when foreign powers could bully them at will, they admired Liu Yikun, Feng Delin, Flying Monkey, and Yang the Ghost-Slayer. These men embodied deep-seated desires in their hearts—they did not wish for them to die, just as one does not wish to see beautiful hopes suddenly shattered.

They overlooked these men’s flaws, forgot that Feng Delin had once robbed and killed, or that Yang, formerly a Qing officer, had bullied them. The kind, oppressed people who dared not resist had placed all their pent-up rage onto the likes of him.

Sitting astride his horse, Yang Xiaolin let out a long breath. He had found a new reason to fight: for all those who needed “Yang the Ghost-Slayer.” In that moment, his confidence soared; he was certain Zhang Zuolin would lose to him this time!

He was ready to play a game with Zhang Zuolin, to make this bandit suppression a lesson the future King of the Northeast would never forget—so that whenever Zhang heard the name Yang Xiaolin, he would think twice before confronting him.

Upon returning to Haicheng County, Yang Xiaolin saw the signal left by Golden Broadsword, letting him know he was safe. This truly put his mind at ease. Whatever the reason, so long as Tang Dahu was willing to spare Golden Broadsword, it meant the man could still be won over—or at least persuaded to remain neutral.

Golden Broadsword was equally delighted at Yang Xiaolin’s safe return. “How is Xianhe?”

Yang Xiaolin did not deceive him and shook his head slightly. “Not too well. We must find a foreign doctor for him as soon as possible if he’s to have any hope of survival.”

Golden Broadsword’s brow furrowed. “Where are we to find a foreign doctor?”

Yang Xiaolin had no answer. He patted Golden Broadsword’s shoulder and said, “Let’s see what we can do. How are things here? Did Tang Dahu come looking for you? Did he say anything?”

Faced with three consecutive questions, Golden Broadsword forced a bitter smile. “Captain, you miscalculated this time. Tang Dahu hasn’t even shown his face.”

Yang Xiaolin’s brows knitted together. He was certain Tang Dahu would not help him for no reason—something had to be brewing! The calmer Tang Dahu acted, the more serious the matter must be.

“He’ll come sooner or later. Let’s keep our heads down for a couple of days. If he doesn’t seek us out, we won’t seek him either.”

Yang Xiaolin spoke with conviction, but Golden Broadsword seemed uninterested. “If you ask me, we should just accept the favor he’s done for us. When the time comes, we’ll return it, that’s all there is to it. Right now, what we should worry about is Xianhe. We must find a way to help him.”

The next morning, Zhang Zuolin set out full of confidence with his troops. He was eager to make his name known with the lives he would take on Gulu Mountain. Their advance was swift, and in just two days they entered the lands of the Changbai Mountains.

But once within those mountains, Zhang Zuolin sensed something was off. A group of around sixty or seventy men trailed them. Each night, as they camped, these men would approach the outskirts of their camp and unleash a barrage of gunfire. By the time Zhang’s men had donned their clothes and rushed out, the attackers had already vanished into the darkness.

The northeast was not like the interior. Though it was only October, the cold was already biting. Every night, just as the men had finally warmed their beds, they would be forced up and out into the chill. Trying to sleep again afterward became nearly impossible.

Sometimes the attackers struck during daylight, their timing unpredictable. Like at night, they kept their distance, firing machine guns from afar. Occasionally, a few bold souls would sneak close and shoot a sentry or two.

One day, Zhang Zuolin deliberately set a trap and managed to intercept the raiders. A brief, fierce battle ensued. Zhang’s men lost seven or eight, while the bandits left behind more than a dozen bodies as they fled in disarray.

Yet the next day, the attacks resumed!

This kind of warfare frustrated Zhang Zuolin deeply. By the sixth day in the mountains, he had yet to catch sight of Yang the Ghost-Slayer, and the morale of his troops was visibly flagging.

“Commander, we can’t go on like this. We must deal with the men trailing us,” said Yang Xiaolin, his forehead beaded with sweat and his face the very picture of anxious loyalty.

Zhang glanced at him. “Oh? Brother Yang, do you have a plan?”

Yang Xiaolin wiped the sweat from his brow and nodded. “It may not work, but I ask for your judgment, Commander.”

“Speak.”

“I think we should halt our advance immediately.”

“Halt?”

“Yes, Commander. Their numbers are small, and as long as we keep moving, they can harass us endlessly. If we blunder into the right spot, they might even set a trap for us.”

At this, Zhang Zuolin nodded slightly, his gaze sweeping over Yang Xiaolin, whose eyes were so clear that Zhang could read nothing from them.

“But if we stop, things change. We can send out small squads in all directions to hunt them. Our men can take turns. The bandits, meanwhile, will have to keep circling us to make sure we don’t suddenly move out. That way, the initiative is ours, and we’ll have a real chance to track them down and wipe them out.”

Yang Xiaolin finished and waited for instructions. Zhang Zuolin pondered for a moment. “Hmm, that’s a plan. All right, we’ll rest for two days. Tonight, you and your men will be on guard duty. Remember, if you spot those scoundrels, chase them down!”

Yang Xiaolin raised his head. “Understood!”

Zhang Zuolin smiled and patted his shoulder. “You can go now. Tonight, you and your men will have to work hard. Tell the cook to make you all an extra meal for the night.”

Yang Xiaolin appeared deeply moved. “Thank you, Commander!”

Zhang waved him off and called out loudly for Wang Jinhan. “Jinhan! Tell the men to set up camp. We’re not moving for the next two days!”

Wang Jinhan hurried over, watching Yang Xiaolin’s figure recede into the distance. “Big Brother, this plan is from that kid? You mustn’t trust him blindly. I’ve noticed something off about him these past few days.”