Twisted Logic Sets a Trap, Remnants Walk Into the Net

The oil lamp had been extinguished for a long time when Chen Wuya slowly opened his eyes. The wind whispered outside the shack. The wet patch was long gone, dried up, but he remembered the position where his fingers had pressed against the bucket's rim. He didn't move, merely placing his palm against the edge of the bed board, circulating his energy inch by inch through his meridians until a barely perceptible tremor formed at his fingertips.

He knew that person would come again last night.

As dawn broke, he got up and walked out of the shack. Smoke curled from cooking fires in the camp, and a few children tumbled and played on the dirt ground. He walked directly to the central clearing, picked up a dry branch, and drew a long line in the sand.

"In three days, we go to North Valley," he said, his voice not loud but each word clear. "We'll cut off their supply lines and burn their tents."

Several villagers carrying water stopped. Someone frowned, "North Valley? It's all cliffs over there, how do we get across?"

"We go around the poisonous swamp," Chen Wuya continued drawing the route, a crooked path through a blank space marked "Quicksand Area." "Then we cut through Broken Ridge and launch a surprise attack at night."

"That route won't work!" an old farmer couldn't help but interject. "The poisonous swamp bubbles up every rainy season. Step on it and you sink, leaving not even bones behind."

"That's why I said the timing is set," Chen Wuya brushed the sand off his hands and stood up. "Last night, I dreamed a golden light split the swamp, revealing stone steps—this is heavenly will."

The crowd stirred. Some didn't believe, some whispered, and others shook their heads and walked away. From the corner of his eye, he swept across the cooking tent in the northwest corner. The flap was pulled open a crack, and an eye quickly retracted.

The corners of his mouth curved up, and he turned to leave.

Old Wu Tou sat in front of his shack, still holding his jujube wood cane. Seeing him approach, he looked up. "Are you really going to fight?"

"It's a bluff," Chen Wuya squatted beside him. "But we have to make them believe it's real."

"You're using absurdity as bait?"

"The more absurd, the more believable," he said in a low voice. "A sensible person wouldn't lay out a suicide plan. But if you're bluffing, you have to make it sound exciting."

Old Wu Tou was silent for a moment, then suddenly said, "I'll patrol the dry well tonight."

Chen Wuya nodded, saying no more.

As night fell, he hid behind a rock at the edge of the woods, staring at the dry well a hundred paces away. Just past the third watch, a figure appeared silently, skillfully digging away the loose soil at the well's edge, burying a small wax pellet, and then quickly covering it up again. The moonlight shone on the person's face—it was the woman who had joined them half a month ago.

After she left, Chen Wuya didn't pursue. Instead, he waited for the time it takes an incense stick to burn, then quietly approached the dry well. He took a small pinch of gray powder from his sleeve and sprinkled it on the spot where the wax pellet was buried. This was the medicinal sand he had concocted; it would emit a very faint green light when exposed to body heat, lasting less than the time it takes to drink half a cup of tea.

The next morning, the camp was in an uproar.

"North Valley caught fire last night!" a boy herding sheep rushed in shouting. "I saw smoke rising to the sky from afar, there must have been a thousand people fighting!"

The crowd buzzed. Some asked if it was infighting among the foreign races, while others speculated that our people might have acted preemptively. Chen Wuya stood in the crowd, his expression grave. "This is bad, the news leaked."

He beat his chest and stamped his feet in front of everyone. "Someone must have overheard my deployment and passed it on! Now the enemy is on guard, and our surprise attack has failed. We might even fall into an ambush!"

Before he finished speaking, he noticed the woman's hand, holding a pot, tremble slightly, spilling some of the soup. She lowered her head, quickly cleaned it up, and disappeared into the tent.

That night, she went out again.

This time, she didn't go to the dry well but headed straight for the abandoned kiln ten miles to the northwest. Chen Wuya and Old Wu Tou had already ambushed them halfway there, watching from a distance. A tattered cloth curtain hung at the kiln entrance, and a faint light emanated from within.

The two lay prone on the slope, hearing hushed voices from inside:

"...The leader has confirmed. They will set an ambush on the return route in three days, and must kill the enemy leader."

"Is he really going to take that poisonous swamp route? Isn't he afraid of total annihilation?"

"He says it's divine guidance, so we'll follow it. Anyway, as long as he's on the road, there's a chance."

A low chuckle came from inside the cave.

Chen Wuya slowly exhaled and turned to Old Wu Tou. "We've made contact."

Old Wu Tou nodded, untied a string of copper bells from his waist, and gently tied them to a few withered vines at the cave entrance. He then took out a handful of fine sand and sprinkled it around the entrance—this was sand mixed with iron filings, which would make a very faint sound with the slightest vibration.

"You stay outside and keep watch," Chen Wuya said in a low voice. "I'll start a fire."

He retreated ten steps, sat down cross-legged, and slowly infused his energy into the ground. This wasn't an attack, but a vibration—a new application he had recently discovered, capable of making the earth produce a dull echo resembling the movement of a large troop.

A moment later, the voices inside the cave abruptly stopped.

"There's movement!" someone whispered.

"Don't panic, it might be a wild beast."

"No, it's footsteps! Many people!"

Immediately, the cloth curtain was violently pulled aside, and someone poked their head out to look. Old Wu Tou remained still, his finger resting on the bell rope.

The person hesitated for a moment before retreating back into the cave. But less than half an hour later, two more people rushed out. The moment they stepped out, a tripwire suddenly tightened under their feet, causing one to fall to the ground and hit the copper bells on the vines.

"Ambush!" Chaos erupted inside the cave.

Chen Wuya no longer hid, leaping up and charging towards the cave entrance. He kicked open the wooden door and pushed out his right palm, his energy transforming into an explosive stream that slammed into the oil lamp. The lamp extinguished instantly, and darkness swallowed the entire kiln.

He didn't use his eyes, relying solely on his sense of energy flow to perceive the air currents. Someone lunged from the left; he dodged, striking the person's shoulder well with his index finger. A blade swept past his ear from the right; he bent his elbow, striking the attacker's wrist, disarmed them of their short blade, and swept it horizontally, forcing back a third person.

The last person tried to escape through the back window but was intercepted by Old Wu Tou, who knocked their dagger away with his staff, grabbed their neck from behind, and pinned them to the ground.

Chen Wuya lit a fire starter, the dim yellow light illuminating three terrified faces. The young man kneeling on the ground trembled. "We were just messengers! There are people giving orders from above!"

"Who?" Chen Wuya squatted down, staring at him.

"I don't know... each time we just receive a wax pellet and act according to the instructions..."

"Then how did you determine if what I said was true or false?"

The young man looked up, his eyes complex. "Because... every time you told a wild story, you were very serious. As if... it could really happen."

Chen Wuya smiled.

He stood up, brushed the dust off his clothes, and looked at the wooden box in the corner. The box was locked, but the latch was loose. He walked over and opened it. Inside, more than a dozen wax-sealed messages were neatly stacked, each marked with a date and a direction.

"So there's more than one contact point," he murmured.

Old Wu Tou approached, dragging a captive. "What should we do with them?"

"Bring them back to the camp," Chen Wuya closed the lid of the box. "Let them see for themselves how the intelligence they sent became a death warrant."

The two escorted the three back. Along the way, the youngest captive suddenly spoke, "You knew all along, didn't you? You were waiting for us to show ourselves from the very beginning."

Chen Wuya didn't look back. "I wasn't waiting for you; I was waiting for you to believe me."

"But you said you were going to North Valley... that was a lie."

"Yes," he continued walking, "but I also mentioned 'heavenly guidance.' You didn't believe in heavenly guidance, but you believed I'd be foolish enough to walk into a trap. So—"

He paused, his tone calm.

"You weren't tricked by a scheme; you were trapped by your own thoughts."

By the time they returned to the camp, the sky was beginning to lighten. Chen Wuya had people spread out all the wax-sealed messages found in the kiln on the table, arranging them in chronological order. One read, "If the enemy leader moves, he will pass through Broken Ridge," and another was marked, "Ambush on the return journey in three days."

He picked up the last message, his fingertip tracing the edge of the wax seal.

"They thought I was laying a trap," he said softly. "In reality, I just pushed their own logic to its conclusion."

Old Wu Tou stood at the doorway, looking at him. "What's next?"

Chen Wuya put the wax-sealed message in his怀, then looked up at the sky, which was gradually turning white in the east.

"Let them send another message."