The next day, before dawn, a faint scent of medicinal herbs already permeated the tent.
Qing Chen took out the potion he had carefully prepared, along with the human-skin mask he had spent several days tanning to perfection.
He motioned for his second younger brother, Qing Jie, to sit still, then focused and steadied his breathing, beginning to apply the method recorded in the Appearance-Altering and Bone-Shrinking Art.
Using a special technique, Qing Chen spread the potion evenly over Qing Jie's face, then carefully laid the human-skin mask over it.
The process lasted an hour. By the time Qing Chen withdrew his hands, the "Qing Chen" before him bore a seventy-to-eighty-percent resemblance to himself.
The only flaw was that Qing Jie had never practiced the secret bone-shrinking art, so his build and bone structure still differed from Qing Chen's own.
Still, in dim light or viewed from a distance, it was enough to confuse people's eyes and ears.
"Remember, speak less and observe more. Handle everything as I instructed."
Qing Chen instructed him in a low voice, "If any urgent military matters arise, leave them to Niu Dali. All you need to do is preside over things and carry yourself as I would."
Qing Jie-or rather, the disguised "Qing Chen"-nodded solemnly. Though somewhat uncomfortable, he did not dare move carelessly.
Shortly after seven in the morning, Qing Jie and the trusted Niu Dali mustered three units of troops and set out toward the vanguard army's main camp under the banner of Li Muyun, the Second Battalion's military commander.
Qing Chen, meanwhile, led another handpicked squad and waited until nightfall before setting out for Northern Mang Mountain under cover of darkness.
When the last trace of sunset was swallowed by ink-black darkness, with neither stars nor moon giving light and the deep night providing the best cover, Qing Chen commanded in a low voice, "Move out!"
Like phantoms, the party silently left the camp on the gentle slope and hurried through the shadows of the mountain forest toward Northern Mang Mountain's northern foothills, a place ordinary people considered impassable.
Northern Mang Mountain's northern foothills indeed had sheer cliffs thousands of feet high, ancient trees towering into the sky, and tangled vines.
Ordinary soldiers could not cross them at all, and a large army had no room to deploy.
Yet Qing Chen felt quite confident.
That confidence came from a grievously wounded man whom the original Qing Chen had saved in his youth, many years ago.
Before dying, the man had not only taught him the martial skills of the Jade Forging Art, but also revealed a secret concerning Northern Mang Mountain.
A little-known hidden tunnel that led straight to the rear of Northern Mang Mountain!
Now, with Ford City's army massed at the front of the mountain, banners fluttering, the bandits' main force was surely tied down along the front mountain's defensive line.
The natural defenses at the rear were the barrier they believed most secure.
And that was precisely Qing Chen's greatest opportunity on this expedition.
Progress through the dense forest was extremely difficult.
A rank smell and miasma filled the air, while mosquitoes and horseflies swarmed, their buzzing incessant.
Fortunately, Qing Chen had prepared in advance, ordering everyone to apply a specially made insect-repelling potion. Its pungent smell barely kept the flying insects at bay.
Otherwise, even without the bandits lifting a finger, bites from venomous insects alone would have been enough to deplete the squad's numbers, with unthinkable consequences.
The route was treacherous, sometimes requiring them to climb moss-covered rock faces.
They could only rely on the ropes they had brought, hauling one another laboriously upward.
Sometimes they had to ford swiftly flowing streams.
The pebbles underwater were slippery and offered little footing. They had to grip vines dangling from the banks or protruding rocks to steady themselves; the slightest carelessness could send them sweeping away in the torrent.
After less than four hours of traveling in such conditions, complaints began to surface among the troops.
The grueling march and tension wore down everyone's strength and patience.
"Fuck! Is this damned path even meant for people? It's going to kill me!" a broad-shouldered, thick-waisted man cursed under his breath. Several bloody scratches were indeed visible on his arm, with blood streaming from them.
"Have we... have we lost our way? How long have we been walking? We haven't seen so much as a ghost of a tunnel!" another, somewhat scrawny young man muttered. He had twisted his ankle while climbing earlier, and now the pain made him bare his teeth.
"Have we come to the wrong place? We've been walking so long, and we're still not there! Is this a dead end, Centurion?" a middle-aged man questioned, his tone deeply dissatisfied and his voice somewhat louder.
The grumbling rose one voice after another, breaking the tense atmosphere.
Qing Chen heard them too. He spun around, fixing his gaze on the middle-aged man with the loudest voice.
He understood with perfect clarity that morale was now like a taut bowstring; the slightest slackening would cause it to collapse completely.
"Anyone who shakes the troops' resolve will be killed without mercy!"
Qing Chen's voice reached every man's ears clearly, sending a shudder through them all.
In a few strides, he reached the middle-aged man, his gaze dark and menacing.
"You question the route, which means you question military orders! For misleading the men before battle and disrupting their resolve, the law decrees that you be beheaded!"
Before his words had faded, the long saber at his waist was already out of its sheath! In the forest's faint light, its gleam traced a cold, bleak arc.
Squelch!
Blood burst forth!
The middle-aged man's terrified expression froze on his face. His head rolled to the ground, and his headless body swayed before collapsing heavily.
In an instant, deathly silence fell over the forest, leaving only the men's heavy breathing and the soft patter of blood dripping onto leaves.
All complaints stopped abruptly, and every face filled with terror.
Qing Chen sheathed his saber, swept his gaze over the men, who were as silent as cicadas in the cold, and shouted:
"I know this has been hard on everyone! But this route is absolutely real! Success is right before us!
I, Qing Chen, swear here and now that if we successfully infiltrate the rear mountain and destroy the bandits' lair, every man here will earn merit! At minimum, each of you will rise one rank and receive twenty taels of silver!"
He paused, then abruptly raised his voice like the thunder of war drums. "For anyone who earns outstanding battle merit, I guarantee a promotion of two ranks and a reward of a hundred taels of silver!"
A promotion of two ranks!
That meant even an ordinary soldier could leap straight to squad commander, leading fifty men and entering the ranks of the Jing Kingdom's ninth-grade military officers!
And a hundred taels of gleaming silver would be enough to buy a sizable house in Ford City and establish a secure home!
Under a lavish reward, brave men were sure to arise.
The fear of a moment ago was instantly replaced by burning greed.
The soldiers' eyes reddened, and their breathing grew heavy.
"Fuck it! For rank and title! For a hundred taels of silver!" someone growled first.
"That's right! Follow the centurion and give it everything!"
"Find the tunnel and wipe out the bandits' nest!"
Shouts rang out one after another, and morale surged again in a peculiar fashion.
The men tightened their grips on their weapons and continued following Qing Chen, trudging through the dense forest with even greater effort.
About another two hours passed, and the night deepened.
Suddenly, a quick-witted veteran brother of the Twin Eagles Association quietly approached Qing Chen, his voice excited:
"Chief! We've found it! Come and look! There's an old pine over there, and it looks like a cross has been carved into its trunk!
At the foot of the rock wall behind the tree, there's wild grass half a man's height, and some loose stones scattered in front of it. They're arranged rather strangely-it doesn't look natural!"
At these words, Qing Chen's spirits soared!
This was exactly the entrance marker that the wandering martial artist had described before dying!
Suppressing the wild joy in his heart, he said quietly, "Good! Well done! Once we get back, I'll make sure you're richly rewarded!"
He immediately followed the association member, moving swiftly and stealthily over.
Sure enough, an ancient pine stood before him, its trunk so thick that it took two men to encircle it. On its shaded side, a cross-shaped carving was clearly visible.
Pushing aside the thick grass revealed a pile of scattered rocks beneath the cliff face. On closer inspection, however, their arrangement seemed to follow some hidden pattern rather than being entirely haphazard.
Qing Chen drew a deep breath and signaled for the men to watch their surroundings, then stepped forward alone.
He extended both hands and carefully felt along the rough, damp rock face.
Suddenly, his fingertips touched a slightly protruding stone whose texture differed a little from the surrounding rock.
This was the spot!
Qing Chen's heart settled. Without hesitation, he swung his fist and knocked three times on the protruding stone, neither too lightly nor too hard: thunk, thunk, thunk.