Back in the village, Yang Yong took over a house.
The house stood at the easternmost end of the human settlement. A half-dead locust tree stood by the door, its bare branches creaking whenever the wind blew.
Long Ya propped the sniper rifle on her back against the doorframe, rolled up her sleeves, and started cleaning.
She swept the floor, plugged the windows with rags, and wiped the ash off the stove three times. At last, the place was fit to live in.
"Master, I'll make some food."
Long Ya crouched in front of the stove, tossed a few ears of corn into the pot, added water, and lit the fire.
She didn't know any fancy ways to cook, so she just boiled them in plain water.
Flames licked the bottom of the pot, and the water slowly came to a boil.
The sweet smell of corn seeped through the gap beneath the lid, mingling with the smell of stove ash, warm and cozy.
Yang Yong sat in the inner room, clutching a small mirror.
Its surface was polished to a shine, reflecting his expressionless face.
He stared at the mirror for a long while without a word.
It wasn't vanity.
He was waiting for a message from Wan Qi.
But...
Just like the previous few times, the mirror remained completely still. It didn't so much as let out a fart.
Yang Yong set the mirror facedown on the table and frowned.
That lousy strategist Cao Xianming should have worked out his location long ago.
Why hadn't he managed to send even a single message yet?
That wasn't right.
Little did he know that Cao Xianming was cursing up a storm at that very moment.
"Fuck! Yang Yong, you bastard, what the hell are you doing!"
Cao Xianming crouched beside