# 184
Chapter 184 – Rescue
To Lin Qiye and the others, the landslide was nothing more than a minor hiccup on the march; a rampaging natural disaster couldn’t stop them. They quickly re-formed and sprinted along the original route.
Time crawled past, and they drew closer to Village No. 1.
Mud smeared the greatcoats until black cloth and filth were one; boots sank into soft earth again and again, yanked free only to let rotting leaves ooze inside—an indescribable misery.
Cold, hunger, fatigue, pain—every negative sensation pressed on them, yet no one complained.
A year of tempering had made them used to it.
They were no longer the civilians who had entered the training camp; they were soldiers about to swear the Night Watch oath!
The radio at Instructor Hong’s waist crackled. He pulled it out and ran on, talking as he went.
After a while his brows knitted tight.
“Instructor Hong, what happened?” Lin Qiye asked, catching the change.
Hong hesitated, voice hoarse. “The Chief is missing.”
“Missing?” Baili Pangpang blinked.
“Been gone eight hours. The last two instructors at the forward CP saw him. They thought he’d gone to help in one of the villages, but no one’s seen him since.”
“So they’re asking us?”
“Exactly. We haven’t reached No. 1 yet, so we don’t know. But at the Chief’s speed, if he’d really headed here he’d have arrived in under two hours—he could be waiting for us.”
“How far to the village?” Lin Qiye asked.
Hong pictured the map he’d memorized. “Half an hour at this pace. You’ve been running non-stop—want a breather?”
“Almost there.” Sweat-soaked Baili Pangpang gritted his teeth. “No stop! One push!”
No one disagreed. They accelerated toward the village.
Soon the trees thinned; the view opened. A corner of a mud-buried hamlet appeared.
The nine halted amid the ruins, gasping. Rain and sweat dripped from their greatcoats; every shirt beneath was soaked.
“The Chief never came,” Hong said, scanning the debris. “He really is missing…”
“He’s a Sea-realm powerhouse—shouldn’t be an accident. Maybe he left early for something,” Deng Wei offered weakly.
Hong said nothing. He knew Yuan Gang better than these recruits: under such circumstances the man would never abandon them mid-rescue without a word.
Something unforeseen had happened.
Hong drew a deep breath. “Forget it for now—save people first. Split as planned. Keep your weapons. Shout the moment anything feels wrong!”
“Yes, sir!”
The eight scattered. Lin Qiye used his power to locate victims; Shen Qingzhu, Molly, Baili Pangpang, Deng Wei, Li Jia, Li Liang, and Instructor Hong dug them out; Wen Qingqing treated the injured.
Lin Qiye ghosted through broken walls. Whenever he sensed a survivor he carved a cross in the mud or masonry with his star-forged blade.
With his Forbidden Ruins fully released, the rescue flew. One after another, survivors were hauled to a half-roofed ruin where Wen Qingqing worked under leaking thatch.
Village No. 1 was tiny—mostly elderly hold-outs and a few youths who refused to leave the mountains. Thanks to the team’s speed, within half an hour every survivor was out.
“Team One reporting: rescue complete. Seventeen survivors treated and awaiting follow-up.”
Hong acknowledged the reply from command.
“Relief column needs a day. We guard the wounded till then,” he told the others slumped against a broken wall.
“When they arrive, we go down together?” Baili Pangpang mumbled.
Hong shook his head. “We slip away just before they get here. No contact.”
They understood: they were the Night Watch’s ghost advance unit—officially non-existent. A meeting would only complicate things.
Nine black-coated figures leaned against the wall. A short stretch of masonry blocked some rain, but droplets still slid down their collars.
Baili Pangpang’s head drooped, eyelids magnetized shut. Li Jia and Deng Wei were already asleep.
They were spent—nine hours of brutal march, zero rest, then frantic digging. Average age: twenty.
Molly stared at the falling rain, lost, until a head bumped her shoulder. She almost jerked away, then saw the exhausted face beneath the cap and stayed still.
Baili Pangpang was out cold, slumped against her. She hesitated, then let him stay, cheeks warming as she gazed back into the downpour.
In his sleep, Baili Pangpang’s lips curved in a tiny smile.