Chapter 36: Must Be Quick

As expected, the pursuers were soon closing in on his direction.

Once Zhong Yuan was certain they were following, he picked up his pace. After creating a slight distance, he deliberately crossed the ridge to leave a false trail toward the Myanmar border before doubling back to the ridge to continue heading north.

He walked for several hours. Along the way, he planted deceptive clues, leading them toward the Myanmar border one moment and toward Kanchanaburi the next.

By the time the sun had climbed to its zenith, they had traversed twenty or thirty kilometers along the ridge. Even if those men realized they had been duped and turned back now, it would be impossible for them to catch up to Zhong Da and the others.

The trail Zhong Yuan left behind simply vanished.

He circled around the western side of the ridge and, as night fell, returned to the vicinity of the valley. The valley remained brightly lit. Inside the perimeter wall, there were clearly more patrols than before. It was obvious that the escape of the three young people had made the guards even more vigilant.

Zhong Yuan sat in a tree, watching it all. His heart was calm as water, yet a strange bloodlust, born from who knows where, began to stir quietly in his eyes. He lit a cigarette and smoked in silence. When he finished, he slid down from the tree and followed the night toward the south.

He was not a hero, nor did he wish to be one. He could not save those people. In life, what is called "growing up" is, in fact, nothing more than the constant acceptance of one’s own powerlessness. That was the reality.

The mountain forest at night was both silent and noisy. It was silent because there were no sounds that did not belong to the natural world, save for his own footsteps. It was noisy because the world was speaking; various sounds intertwined to form a different kind of bustling life. At such a time, any sound that did not belong would disrupt this vibrancy—like his footsteps, or the voices that suddenly drifted from ahead.

They were speaking in Southern Thai.

Zhong Yuan stopped in his tracks, his figure gradually merging with the trees beside him. He was already seven or eight kilometers away from the valley. Logically, there should be no one else in these deep, ancient forests, especially not at night.

Zhong Yuan pondered: could it be the same group from early this morning? After losing his trail, they must have realized they had been played, yet they were not giving up? Had they actually pursued him this far south?

Since Zhong Yuan had circled back via the west side of the ridge after shaking them off, it was possible they had ended up ahead of him. However, because they were blocking the path, for Zhong Yuan to bypass them, he would have to descend the ridge and skirt around the hillside. Visibility was poor at night, and descending was dangerous; a single misstep could lead to a fall and injury. For safety's sake, that choice was unwise.

After some thought, Zhong Yuan climbed a large tree near the edge of the ridge, deciding to make do for the night and reassess the situation at dawn.

Time crept by. As the sky began to brighten, the men extinguished their campfire and started moving, not back the way they came, but further south. Zhong Yuan couldn't help but frown. Were they so obsessed with those three? From their perspective, a full day had passed; the chances of catching the trio were slim. Moreover, the fact that they had been led all the way to Kanchanaburi proved that someone was helping the fugitives. That made the odds of catching them even lower. So, why this obsession?

Zhong Yuan decided to trail them from a distance. If Zhong Da and the others made steady progress, they should reach the reservoir by noon today. This meant that if these men continued south at a fast pace, they might reach the same reservoir by nightfall.

Therefore... these men had to die. And soon. The further away from the reservoir they died, the safer Zhong Da and his companions would be. Once this thought took root, Zhong Yuan set his mind on taking action.

There were eight of them in total. Four carried old-fashioned rifles. Of the remaining four, two had pistols tucked into their waistbands, and while he couldn't see weapons on the other two, they certainly had them.

Zhong Yuan carried a pistol, but he was low on ammunition, with only five rounds left. He also had an old rifle taken from the bald man's subordinates, which had plenty of ammo—enough for two magazines—but a rifle was cumbersome in this dense forest. The butterfly knife was with Zhong Da; he hadn't taken it back.

Although these men were armed, Zhong Yuan wasn't intimidated. The real challenge was how to ensure none of them escaped. If the situation turned sour, they would surely flee, and once they started running, catching them all would be nearly impossible. If they escaped, they would remain a potential threat to him.

Zhong Yuan followed them for a while, mulling this over, until they stopped to rest. This was a good opportunity. They didn't seem to think there was any danger, or perhaps they simply didn't view the hidden Zhong Yuan or the fleeing trio as a threat. They had been arrogant and successful for too long, to the point where they believed that as long as they held guns, they were gods who could dictate the lives of others.

Zhong Yuan hid behind a tree thirty or forty meters away. At this distance, neither a pistol nor a rifle was ideal for a clean shot. In the dense woods, even if he hit someone, it was unlikely to be a lethal blow.

He carefully inched forward another ten meters. Now, he was close enough to see the expressions on their faces. Zhong Yuan adjusted his position, his gaze sweeping over them through the sights. Their lazy, weary expressions were repulsive.

One of them pulled out a green cigarette. Just as he was about to light it, someone beside him shoved him. "We haven't found them yet, don't touch that stuff now!"

The man looked unconvinced and was about to retort when, suddenly, gunfire erupted.

*Bang!*
*Bang! Bang!*

A rapid three-shot burst. The green cigarette flew away and hit the ground.

"Damn it..."
"Who is it?"
"Where are they?"

Panic broke out instantly. Two of the eight men were dead before they could react. The remaining six were tense and pale, clutching their weapons as they scrambled for cover.

Zhong Yuan stayed silent behind his tree. Time ticked away amidst the sound of their ragged breathing. Suddenly, one of the men on the other side lunged out and unleashed a full burst of gunfire in his direction. The dense forest vibrated with the roar of the shots; startled birds circled frantically, not daring to land. Bullets tore into the tree trunks, sending shards of wood flying like razor blades, searching for a life to claim.