Whetstone

The mountain road was more difficult to travel than I had imagined.

At first, they could form a long line that could barely be called a queue, but as the slope became steeper and the trees became denser, the line was quickly broken into pieces.

Beneath my feet lay slippery moss and exposed tree roots, above me a dense canopy of intertwined branches that blocked out the sun. The morning mist had not yet dissipated, and the moisture dampened my clothes and armor, making them heavy and cold.

Zhou Heng followed closely behind Wang Laowu, trying his best not to let the distance between them widen. The spear became a burden, frequently getting caught on the vines, which he had to struggle to pull away.

His breathing grew heavier, his throat felt like it was being rubbed with sandpaper. The cloth bundle and the jade pendant in his arms pressed against him through his clothes, yet strangely, they brought him a sense of security.

"Stay close! Don't fall behind!" came a low shout from ahead; it was the team leader.

No one dared to fall behind. In this unfamiliar mountain forest, everyone knew what being alone meant.

After walking for about an hour, an order to stop was received from ahead. The group leaned against trees or sat directly on the ground, taking the opportunity to catch their breath.

Zhou Heng untied the leather bag and took a small sip of boiled water. Li Gou'er next to him was almost collapsing, and Zhang Tiezhu was wiping away sweat.

"This godforsaken place..." Li Gou'er complained under his breath, "Why would bandits choose to live here? Don't they find it troublesome to go up and down the mountain?"

Wang Laowu sneered, "They know the ropes; it's us who'll be in trouble."

Before they could even rest for the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, the order came again: "Continue on! Keep quiet!"

The higher we climbed, the heavier the atmosphere became. The birdsong seemed to have diminished, leaving only the monotonous sound of footsteps and increasingly labored breathing.

Occasionally, you can see hidden markings carved on the trees ahead, probably left by scouts who went to explore earlier.

Zhou Heng noticed that Zhao Heita had somehow moved to the front of the group, where he was talking in hushed tones with Captain Sun and several members of the Xuanzi Battalion, his expression serious.

Around noon, the group stopped to rest in a relatively open clearing in the woods and distributed dry rations.

The two hard biscuits seemed especially precious at that moment. Zhou Heng nibbled on them, swallowing slowly. He dared not drink too much water, unsure how much longer the journey would take.

Captain Sun gathered several squad leaders and the commanders of the Xuanzi Battalion together, pointing and discussing a roughly drawn map on leather.

Zhou Heng vaguely heard the words "pass," "sentinel post," and "flank," and knew that he was not far from the bandits' lair.

Sure enough, the orders changed after they set off again. It was no longer "keep up close," but "silence, proceed slowly."

Everyone hunched over, moved with utmost care, and gripped their weapons even tighter. Even the most reckless Zhang Tiezhu held his breath.

The terrain became even more treacherous. They advanced along a narrow ridgeline, with a steep slope on one side and a bottomless ravine on the other, where mist swirled. The mountain wind howled, whipping their clothes and making it almost impossible to stand.

"Watch your step!" came warnings from ahead every now and then.

Zhou Heng's heart leaped into his throat. He was afraid of heights, and this place was practically the embodiment of his nightmares.

His eyes were fixed on Wang Laowu's heels, not daring to glance to the side. His palms were covered in cold sweat, and the spear shaft was so slippery that he could barely hold it.

At this extremely tense moment, the column in front suddenly stopped. It stopped without any warning.

Zhou Heng was caught off guard and almost bumped into Wang Laowu. The people behind him also squeezed forward.

"What's wrong?" someone asked in a low voice.

"I don't know... it seems like there's a traffic jam ahead."

A slight commotion began to rise in the line. Zhou Heng stood on tiptoe and peered through the gaps between the shoulders of the people in front of him.

The narrow mountain path ahead appeared to be blocked by several collapsed boulders and fallen trees. Several soldiers from the Xuanzi Battalion were trying to clear the way, but progress was slow.

Time ticked by. The group, like a snake with its throat caught in its throat, remained frozen on the ridge. The mountain wind seemed to grow colder. An uneasy feeling spread in the silence.

"What's going on? Why did it stop?" The people behind were confused and started pushing forward to see what was happening.

"Don't push! There's no way to get through!" The person in front, feeling uncomfortable from being pushed, whispered a reprimand.

The pushing and whispering grew louder. Zhou Heng, caught in the middle, felt a suffocating panic.

Just then, someone slipped while clearing obstacles ahead, causing stones to roll down, which caused a small murmur and more pushing and shoving for no apparent reason.

Chaos was about to break out—

"quiet!!!"

A thunderous roar exploded, drowning out all the noise.

It was Zhao Heita. He had somehow returned from the front, his face ashen, his eyes blazing with fury. He carried a stick, his gaze sweeping over the commotion like a knife.

"Anyone who makes a sound or moves again will be court-martialed!" His voice wasn't loud, but it carried an iron-blooded tone, instantly silencing the crowd.

Captain Sun also arrived with his men. He glanced coldly at the emerging chaos, quickly ordering increased vigilance and urging those at the front to expedite the clearing. The ranks returned to a deathly silence of waiting, shrouded in tension.

Zhou Heng breathed a sigh of relief; his back was soaked with cold sweat. He had almost wanted to shrink back too, but luckily Wang Laowu grabbed his arm.

"What's the panic?" Wang Laowu said in a low voice, his tone unusually steady. "In a place like this, moving around will only make you die faster."

The obstacle was finally cleared, creating a gap just wide enough for one person to pass through. The line began to incline again, moving at an agonizingly slow pace.

When passing through the narrowest part, Zhou Heng practically clung to the inner rock wall, using both hands and feet to inch his way across, completely afraid to look at the abyss on the other side.

After another difficult half an hour of marching, the leading Xuan-character battalion soldier suddenly gave a hand signal—stop and lie in ambush.

Arrived.

Zhou Heng lay down behind a clump of bushes and quietly peeked out.

Ahead, the terrain suddenly opened up, revealing a platform carved out of a steep mountainside, dotted with dozens of rough wooden houses and shacks.

A crooked wooden fence served as the stockade wall, and several watchtowers stood in a strategic location. This was Black Wind Stockade.

The village is small, but its location is extremely treacherous. There is only one steep mountain path leading up to it, and on both sides are cliffs that are difficult to climb, making it easy to defend and difficult to attack.

The gate to the village was tightly shut, and shadowy figures could be seen moving on the wall, clearly indicating that they had noticed their arrival.

Lieutenant Sun and several officers lay down behind the rocks further ahead to observe.

Zhao Heita crouched low as he ran back, whispering in Zhou Heng's direction, "Listen up! The Xuan-character Battalion will launch a feint attack from the front to draw attention. Our Ding-character Battalion's mission is to attack from over there—"

He pointed to a more densely wooded, gently sloping hillside on the side of the stronghold, "Go up there, find a chance to climb over the wall, and open the gate! Remember, be quick and quiet! If you're discovered, launch a full-scale attack!"