Rin - Chapter 228 The Rescue

Hidden within the thicket of the forest, a head peeked from behind a tree.

“Three men are patrolling the front of the camp. So far, they haven’t changed shifts.” Yin Changpu jerked his head back to the men behind him. “We need to take all three of them out if we want to get in.”

Fan Mingli stood beside him and snuck a glance at the Tuhan men. As Yin Changpu said, there were three of them. Three big, tall men with bristling beards, copper skin, and bulging muscles.

To someone of Fan Mingli’s stature, they were terrifying.

Swallowing the bile at the back of his throat, Fan Mingli took one hand and leaned against the ancient oak, his fingertips gripping into the crevices that ran through the bark. Under his boots, the golden leaves were as noisy as the static in his head.

Why did he come here?

He couldn’t fight those men. He didn’t have the strength like the rest of his comrades. Not like An Sun.

Remember what you’re fighting for…who are you fighting for?

These words, Fan Mingli could not help but remind himself. Taking a deep breath, he turned toward the rest of the men.

“There are thousands of them there. We’ll wait till dark…and then we’ll find Captain Sun’s friend.”

“How will we get past the guards out front?” A comrade man with small black eyes asked.

“It’ll be night, so they won’t see us sneaking around. However, someone strong will need to take them out.” Fan Mingli replied.

“You count on me for that!” Yin Changpu raised his hand, his mouth spread in a big, toothy grin.

Twitching his brows, Fan Mingli continued. “Like what we did in back in the village, we’ll disguise ourselves. Three out front, two inside the camp. Based on what I’ve investigated on the An Clan, they’d keep their prisoners close to the main tent.”

“Why?” A man couldn’t help but ask.

“Easy access for torture.” Fan Mingli answered simply.

Everyone fell silent; some swallowed nervously.

“But there will most likely be a guard or two in the front, so we’ll have to be quiet when we’re issuing our escape.”

Nodding their heads, everyone stared at Fan Mingli with commendable smiles.

“Then it’s settled.” Fan Mingli peeked behind the tree and smirked. “Now we wait.”

…

Before long, night came. The sky was black, not a single star in the sky. Just clouds and the glaring moon to shine down on the land.

Slipping within the shadows, Fan Mingli and the others moved. They leaned against the camp’s wooden walls and made their way close to the guards. Fan Mingli glanced at Yin Changpu, who nodded at his signal.

It was then he moved in and stepped toward the guards, his body still wrapped in the shadows.

Both men fell unconscious. Still holding the bloody bolder in his hand, Yin Changpu hovered over the unconscious men’s bodies and struck it down against each of their heads, blood pooling from their bodies like thick, red wine.

Having finished the deed, Yin Changpu turned around with a grin, only to meet Fan Mingli’s glare.

“What?” He cocked his head to the side.

“What do you mean what? I said knock them out silently!” Fan Mingli hissed.

Yin Changpu rolled his eyes. “Do you want them to wake up and alert everyone?”

Unable to refute, Fan Mingli just huffed and began stripping the clothes off the bodies of the corpses. Shrugging on a sheepskin vest, Yin Changpu glanced up only to halt. Unaware of his stare, Fan Mingli continued to put on the oversized Tuhan clothing.

When he was done, he glanced up to notice Yin Changpu watching at him.

“What is it?”

Walking up to him, Yin Changpu tilted his head and looked Fan Mingli up and down. Fan Mingli was a short man. A scrawny one as well. With less muscle on his limbs and such small stature, the Tuhan’s large clothing was much excessively large on him.

He looked nothing like a Tuhan man.

Yin Changpu glanced at the young man’s face, and his eyes lit up. Scraping some dirt on his hands from the ground, he stared back at Fan Mingli.

“Why are you—” Before he could finish his sentence, Yin Changpu was smearing wet dirt left and right on his face. It took every inch of restraint for him not to shout.

As if he hadn’t done enough, Fan Mingli felt the man run his hands through his shaggy hair and tussled it about. He could feel the soil scratching his scalp.

“There, now you look like a Tuhan.” Yin Changpu smiled with his hands on his hips.

Opening his eyes, Fan Mingli glared ferociously at him.

“You…!”

“Come on, we don’t have time.” Yin Changpu carelessly patted him on the back and turned to the other three. “Fan Mingli and I will search for Manchu, you all stay here.”

“Got it.” They gave a thumbs up and stood in their places.

Turning back to the scowling Fan Mingli, Yin Changpu just smirked.

“Well then, let’s go.”

Sighing, Fan Mingli followed Yin Changpu carefully into the camp.

…

“You seem to be hanging on well.” An Ruo was staring at the man tied to the wooden pole in the ground. His eyes were as cold as ice. But there was a glimmer of some joy. Not that Manchu could see his expression much.

His eyes were veiled by his long brown bangs, sweat sticky from his forehead. For the last three days now, Manchu lay on his knees, tied tightly to a pole in the ground, with gashes on his back, arms, and legs.

Everything had gone completely numb at this point. Although the situation still did not appeal to him.

“Despite your tolerance, it will all end soon. Tomorrow morning you will no longer have to suffer any more pain. Just death.” An Ruo announced after he’d watched the expression on Manchu’s face. To his disappointment, nothing had changed, but it no longer mattered to him.

Starting tomorrow, he’d have one less enemy to worry about.

With a bright grin on his face, An Ruo stepped out of the tent—on to enjoy the camp’s giant feast. Left alone, Manchu could hear the sound of men’s voices outside the tent. Their laughter, their shouts. All of it seemed to fade from his ears as he closed his sore eyes.

It seems he had failed An Sun. Holding back the urge to laugh bitterly as he feared he’d open the wounds on his back, Manchu’s head dropped even further.

“Psst!” A hush sounded from in front of him.

Opening his eyes slowly, Manchu lifted his head. Through the strands of hair in front of his eyes, he saw two Tuhan men crawling from beneath the back of the tent. However, upon a closer look, Manchu hadn’t recognized either of their faces.

“Are you Manchu?” The big man asked while the smaller one was still struggling to slide under the tent.

“Yes.” Manchu looked between the two when a sudden thought came to him. “Did Sun send you?”

At his words, the big man nodded his head. With a puffed up chest, he said, “Under Captain Sun’s orders, we’ve come to rescue you, Manchu.”

For the first time in four months, the dull look in Manchu’s eyes brightened. He suddenly broke out into his brightest smile. It was painful from his dry, cracked lips, that soon started to bleed–he didn’t notice at all.

All Manchu could feel was a light weight on his chest.

Yin Changpu took out the dagger from his hip and kneeled on the ground. He severed the tight rope on Manchu’s wrists, freeing him. Having been tied for so long, Manchu could no longer support himself, thus, as soon as he was released, he collapsed to the floor.

Luckily, Yin Changpu was there to catch him in time.

“Mingli, help me out here, will you?” Yin Changpu whispered to avoid the guards outside from hearing.

Finally having slipped out from beneath the tent, Fan Mingli panted heavily. When he heard Yin Changpu’s words, he gathered his breath and hobbled over. Helping him support Manchu’s other shoulder, the two men carried him toward the end of the tent.

To help him get on the other side, Fan Mingli crawled underneath, then held the tent while Yin Changpu lowered Manchu and pulled him.

Due to the rest of the Tuhan men enjoying their feast and drinks by the fire, the three men carefully snuck in the shadows unnoticed. They arrived in front of a wooden wagon and stopped to help Manchu lean on it.

“Okay, get in and hide underneath everything.” Yin Changpu wiped the dirt and sweat from his bushy brows.

Manchu looked down into the wagon and realized the ‘everything’ he had referred to was a pile of freshly slaughtered sheep. The edge of his lips twitched. But considering his previous circumstance, Manchu didn’t complain and obediently complied.

With the help of the two men, he slipped beneath the piles of sheep carcasses. When he was all settled in, they stacked more on top to cover him up.

“The Tuhan men are already expecting to deliver more supplies. Having us carry this won’t look too suspicious.” Fan Mingli lifted one side of the wagon.

The men’s boisterous voices sounded in the distance as they trudged forward. Looking ahead, they could see the opening to the came—their final way out coming closer and closer…

“Stop!” The sound of a man’s shout boomed from behind them, and Fan Mingli felt himself flinch involuntarily.

Yin Changpu sent him a gaze, his eyes sharp and full of warning. Inwardly, Fan Mingli calmed his heart, his sweaty hands clutching tightly to the wagon’s wooden arm.

A man wide and tall walked up with eyes that narrowed and circled their wagon. “What’s all this?’

“We were ordered by Commander An to bring meat to the troops at the northern bases.” Yin Changpu spoke sudden and deep, keeping a firm hold on the wagon with eyes dark and unwavering.

The Tuhan man’s expression hadn’t seemed to change, and instead, he moved in his steps with a strange gruff.

His eyes scanned their cart filled to the brim with dead sheep meat, and he lifted a calloused hand firmly around the leg of a sheep as he analyzed it.

Manchu, although practically immobile, felt his breath hitch beneath the corpses. Not only out of sudden uneasiness, but by the elongated, intoxicating smell of death on top of him. He stilled his breathing. Almost as still as the dead beasts atop him.

“This is too much meat. The other men and I hunted long and hard for this!” The Tuhan man smacked his lips, eyes glinted with greed and he let the leg of the sheep plummet back down carelessly amongst the others.

“The men are at risk of starvation. We’re just taking orders.” Yin Changpu didn’t fail to retort casually and kept his eyes steady.

The man, as if paying no heed to his words rolled his eyes with a waving hand careless with dismissal.

“Tsk, get out of here then. Go!” His voice held clear irritation, but he left behind them with one last gaze to their wagon and made his way back to the bonfire as he kicked a stone.

Fan Mingli and Yin Changpu both released a quiet, but relieved sigh. The tension in their backs relaxed, and the wagon moved with a light rattle as they disappeared into the night.