Several police officers led the way, escorting two young men, followed by Xu Nian and Qi Bai. Behind them were the rest of the rescue team, then Wang Yu and two other supporting officers. Guan Xia and her group were positioned toward the middle and rear, while Jiang Yingyao and the remaining backup officers brought up the rear.
The long procession moved slowly due to the varying physical stamina of its members and the damp, slippery ground at dawn. Guan Xia, having rested well the previous night, kept pace with ease.
As she walked cautiously, she pricked up her ears to catch the hushed conversation between Jiang Yingyao and the other officers who had arrived as reinforcements.
Apparently familiar with their identities, the officers spoke without much restraint, though in low voices, sharing only the essential details. Guan Xia gathered that they weren’t the first team sent up the mountain—they were actually the third wave. The officers had been dispatched from the city’s public security bureau, but their precinct was relatively close to this rural county.
The first team had reached the mountain’s base late last night, around 11 p.m. During their ascent, a drone equipped with infrared scanning had detected a figure trapped in a tree halfway up the slope. Based on the terrain, they deduced the person had likely fallen from the path and gotten stuck. The situation was perilous, and they suspected this might not be an isolated incident—there could be other fleeing civilians nearby. As a result, they altered their course and didn’t proceed directly to the location where the distress call had originated.
The second team, after rescuing some individuals, had picked up traces of the armed suspects. Not wanting to lose the trail, they left two officers to escort the civilians down while the rest gave chase.
This group was the third wave, with more teams—fourth and fifth—following closely behind. On their way up, they’d heard that armed police units were already en route. Soon, the entire wilderness would be cordoned off for a systematic search.
Guan Xia checked the time: 6:30 a.m. Nearly nine hours had passed since the gunshots the night before. The response had been remarkably swift.
She overheard Jiang Yingyao ask, "Was the person stuck in the tree rescued?"
One officer replied, "Yes, but they were severely injured and suffering from hypothermia. They were unconscious by the time they reached the base, though they’re expected to pull through."
Jiang Yingyao pressed, "Was it a fall or a gunshot wound?"
The officer shrugged. "No idea. We headed straight up after reaching the command post, so we didn’t get all the updates—just bits and pieces."
The conversation shifted as the newly arrived officers questioned Jiang Yingyao about the previous night’s events. Since Guan Xia already knew the details, she tuned out and focused on the descent.
Though the man-made path was steep and narrow, going downhill was easier than climbing up. By noon, they’d passed the halfway point, and the foot of the mountain was clearly visible.
However, it soon became apparent that the officers weren’t leading them back the same way they’d come. Guan Xia noticed the unfamiliar terrain—the path grew rougher, and they encountered no other hikers.
Someone ahead grumbled, "This isn’t the way we came up. Our cars are parked at the base—how are we supposed to get back?"
An officer reassured them, "The original route showed signs of armed suspects. For your safety, we’re taking a fully secured detour. Don’t worry—once we’re down, arrangements will be made to take you to your vehicles."
Though the woman muttered complaints, she didn’t argue further and trudged on.
For the first two-thirds of the journey, the descent had felt manageable. But as they neared the final stretch, the reality of the rugged trail set in.
The stone steps narrowed and grew steeper until, rounding a bend, they vanished entirely, replaced by a crude footpath worn by locals. The sporadic trail wound through dense shrubs, with tangled vines snagging at passersby. Occasional yelps of pain punctuated the quiet as hikers got caught in the thorns.
Even the agile Zhong Xiaoyu wasn’t spared—a vine lashed her neck, leaving a stinging welt. After checking that it wasn’t bleeding, she pressed on, using her knife to hack away at the overgrowth to ease the way for those behind her.
"Now this feels like a real wilderness hike," Meng Lan panted, still managing to joke. "Definitely thrilling. Lucky for us, we’ve only run into bugs—no snakes. Otherwise, I’d have rolled down the mountain by now."
No sooner had she spoken than a shriek erupted ahead. "Holy crap—snake! There’s a snake!"
Guan Xia and Pang Le froze, shooting Meng Lan an exasperated look. Zhong Xiaoyu raised a brow. "Well, well. Didn’t take you for a jinx."
Meng Lan chuckled awkwardly. "Pure coincidence." Then, curious, she added, "Also… you know another jinx?"
Zhong Xiaoyu ducked under a low-hanging vine and smirked. "Oh yeah. Someone whose bad luck strikes at the worst possible moments. So, for safety’s sake, maybe keep quiet the rest of the way."
Meng Lan mimed zipping her lips.
Pang Le sliced through another vine, then steadied Guan Xia before nodding toward the front. "Notice how that woman who looks like you keeps glancing back? Feels like she knows you’re here."
Guan Xia replied flatly, "So what if she does? As long as she doesn’t bother me. I’m not interested in some tearful reunion drama—'long-lost daughter found after twenty years.'"
Pang Le frowned. "Look, she’s checking on you again—making sure you haven’t fallen behind. Bet she’ll approach you once we’re down."
She then turned to Meng Lan, eyes narrowing. "Be honest—did you tell her about Guan Xia?"
Meng Lan raised three fingers solemnly. "I swear on my future wealth—I never said a word. Didn’t even interact with her. I only tailed her briefly to figure out why Guan Xia ended up in the orphanage. After that, I backed off. I admit, I was bitter seeing her happy family and even toyed with the idea of ruining it. But I never acted. Guan Xia would’ve killed me."
Pang Le merely let out a cold laugh, neither confirming nor denying his belief. After a moment of thought, he said to Guan Xia, "I’ve been observing her expression the whole time. She really doesn’t seem to recognize Meng Lan, so she probably learned about you through other channels—maybe her parents or other relatives. After all, getting pregnant and having a child in high school isn’t something you can hide completely. Anyone close to her would’ve noticed."
Guan Xia replied, "Who cares how she found out? I just hope she has enough self-awareness not to shamelessly come and bother me."
It was rare for Guan Xia to speak so harshly, but the thought of being disturbed in the days ahead filled her with irritation.
Fortunately, the path grew increasingly treacherous, forcing them to focus entirely on their footing. Guan Xia soon forgot about whether anyone was watching her, and her mood settled as she concentrated on the hike.
After another hour or so, just as they were nearing the foot of the mountain, Guan Xia suddenly thought she heard gunshots.
At first, she wondered if she’d imagined it, but before she could turn to ask Pang Le, another volley of shots rang out—this time unmistakable. The rapid, overlapping bursts clearly came from multiple firearms.
Though no expert, Guan Xia immediately understood: the police searching the mountain had finally confronted the fugitive, and a fierce firefight had broken out.
A mix of excitement and worry surged through her. The killer was armed, and she could only hope none of the officers were hurt.
The gunfire lasted several minutes. As tension thickened and hearts pounded, the radio carried by one of the backup officers crackled to life. A terse message followed: "Armed suspect neutralized. All units, stand down."
It was finally over. Guan Xia exhaled in relief, then felt a rush of exhilaration.
But her relief was short-lived.
A sudden, primal dread crawled up her spine—an instinctive warning, as if prey sensing a predator’s gaze. Her body stiffened before she whipped around, eyes locked on the dense thicket behind them, her expression sharp with suspicion.
Pang Le noticed her reaction first. He stepped back to her side, following her gaze. "What’s wrong? Did you see something?"
Ji An, standing behind Guan Xia, also moved closer. "What are you looking at?"
Guan Xia had expected her system to activate, but it remained silent. Still, she trusted her instincts. Just as she opened her mouth to speak, rustling came from the bushes a few meters away—and two figures emerged.
They were middle-aged men in hiking jackets, baseball caps, and oversized backpacks.
Startled by the group, the men reflexively reached for their waists before forcing their hands down. One of them plastered on a sheepish grin, his voice disarmingly earnest. "Thank goodness we ran into people! We were terrified—heard gunshots and bolted without thinking. Did you hear them too?"
His eyes then landed on the police officers, and his smile widened, though his feet edged backward. "Oh! Didn’t notice the officers here. And in tactical gear too… Must be quite the criminal you’re after, huh? Must’ve done something real bad to warrant this kind of manhunt."
Their reaction—retreating instead of relief at seeing law enforcement—set off alarms even before Guan Xia could voice her suspicions. The group’s expressions hardened.
Seizing the moment, Guan Xia tugged Pang Le and Ji An’s sleeves. Turning slightly to hide her lips from the men, she mouthed a silent word: "Murderers."
Though her system hadn’t triggered, the intensity of her intuition left no doubt. These men had blood on their hands—likely more than one life. Even during the Chen Yuanwei case, her instincts hadn’t screamed this loudly.
Years of working cases together had honed their teamwork. Pang Le and Ji An understood instantly. Guan Xia, standing close, caught Ji An’s subtle hand signal to Zhong Xiaoyu behind them.
Zhong Xiaoyu reacted swiftly, pulling Meng Lan protectively back while feigning casual curiosity. "You two here for tourism? Doesn’t look like you’re locals. And those shoes—covered in mud! How many days have you been trekking out here? Camping trip gone wrong?"
The men glanced down at their filthy, near-unrecognizable sneakers and took another half-step back. The talkative one chuckled awkwardly. "Oh, not too long. We came up the day before yesterday. Poor planning—took some wrong turns, missed the campsite, ended up roughing it a couple nights. Meant to head down today, retracing our steps, but then those gunshots… We panicked, ran blindly, and wound up here. Lucky we found you."
His tone was convincing, but the group exchanged skeptical glances. The story was riddled with holes.
First, the timing: they hadn’t mentioned last night’s gunfire, meaning they’d heard none. Yet if they’d truly been on the mountain, even at a distance, they’d have noticed. Unless they’d been mid-slope or lower—which contradicted their claim of retracing their path. Today’s shootout had ended mere minutes ago; no one could’ve strayed this far off-trail that quickly.
Then there was the mud. Guan Xia discreetly studied their shoes.
She’d checked the weather before setting out—no rain for days. Dew might dampen shoes, but not cake them in layers of grime. Even their group, taking back trails for safety, had only light dirt on their footwear. These men’s sneakers suggested days of bushwhacking.
Why would tourists deliberately choose the hardest routes? And how did non-locals even know these hidden paths?
As these inconsistencies clicked into place, Guan Xia noticed the group’s smiles turning knowing. Two officers at the rear tightened their grips on their weapons, stepping forward casually. "Mountains are dangerous right now. You’re lucky you made it. Since we’re all here, we’ll escort you down together."
As the police officers approached, the forced smiles on the two middle-aged men’s faces instantly faltered, their expressions stiffening. "N-no need," one of them stammered. "We’re practically at the foot of the mountain already. No trouble necessary. You go ahead—we’ll follow behind. It’s just as safe."
The man at the front spoke while subtly retreating another step, edging dangerously close to the shrubbery behind him.
Sensing their intent to flee, the officers quickened their pace, clearly aiming to close the distance and subdue them. But the sudden movement only heightened the men’s alertness.
In a flash, the lead man yanked something out and hurled it forward, bellowing, "Run!"
Seizing the moment as the officers dodged, the two men vanished into the thicket, escaping without a trace.
Only then did everyone realize what had been thrown—a short-handled axe, its blade glinting ominously under the sunlight as it narrowly missed an officer lunging forward and clattered to the ground.
The sudden assault and escape only confirmed the men’s guilt. Without hesitation, the remaining officers gave chase.
Guan Xia barely had time to blink before realizing that, aside from Ji An and Meng Lan, everyone else had bolted. Zhong Xiaoyu, in particular, surged ahead with startling speed, leaping over the shrubs in a few bounds and disappearing from sight.
